Ghostyle

Lyrics

Yea, ayy, hold on (Chorus) Countin these Jacksons Making a play then I'm getting some action Ain't doing no talking, I don't need me a caption Niggas knew me, before I was rappin Get off my phone, bitch why is you cappin? You not a freak and yo head game was slacking Bringing her back and I'm breaking her back in Smacking her ass while I'm counting a backend(Hey!) (Verse 1) I'm smoking woods on the way to LA Get off my line, you cannot be my bae Run up some commas, ain't with all the drama My diamonds all white like I fuck with the K Know I'm a beast but I'm not in my prime I'm at the top but I still gotta climb Bitches want me but they won't get a dime Patek on me but I can't tell the time Got a lil' bittie and she suckin' it slo-mo Throwing that ass back and forth like a yo-yo Can I fuck you and use it on my promo? Know I'm a star, feel just like I'm Monroe All of that ass, make it shake like it's jell-o Good with her hands on the whip like a cello I ain't even have to go with her, say "hello" Diamonds too icy, sometimes they be yellow Said that it's smoke, we can do it wherever Walk on yo show, that shit dry like a desert Get me some top and make sure that I'm clever It's the Gho$t boy, you know that shit forever I'm tryna see lil bitch, if you can work it Shoot me a flick and make sure that it's perfect Nut in a minute, I don't care it was worth it Hop in the coupe and I'm gone and I'm skrrtin' Bad lil' bitch and she know that she thick Sleep off the roll, I might take me a pic Chill with my dog, nigga just like I'm Vick Don't fuck with them niggas I turn into wicks Smoking on gas with my nigga Obama 44 blunts and the roll with no vomit Fuck all that talkin, ain't with all the drama Get in my bag and run up me some commas Bitches see me and jump out of their panties Wait till they see me hold up me a Grammy I'll never fold I put that on my Mammy But I throw shows in LA and Miami Ass so fat and shit look like a planet Getting some Jackson's, ain't talking bout Janet Bad lil' bitch she took me right for granted Oh well, fuck her, my diamonds still dancing I made a killing off eating these beats Your bitch got full from eating my meat Give her a trick and I give her a treat I ain't taking no L's, I cannot be beat Gucci on me and my shoe bottom red I don't know her name but we still in the bed I know I'm the shit nigga fuck what you said Get off your ass and go get you some bread (Chorus) Countin these Jacksons Making a play then I'm getting some action Ain't doing no talking, I don't need me a caption Niggas knew me, before I was rappin Get off my phone, bitch why is you cappin? You not a freak and yo head game was slacking Bringing her back and I'm breaking her back in Smacking her ass while I'm counting a backend, ha, ayy