Bol-Bol

Lyrics

[Intro] Ooh, shit, that's a Danny G beat Huh, ayy, everything fun and games, 'til you Huh, everything fun and games 'til you unplug the— [Verse] Everything fun and games 'til you unplug the cord I know he sittin' there wishin' I could un-fuck his whore I know he sittin' there wishin' we could un-up the score The whole gang fucked up, y'all just fucked up galore You bought your whip fucked up? I just fucked up my Porsche Bitch, clean this nut up, you just fucked up my shorts I'll take the automatic, and now I'm fuckin' up North Too much money in the dresser, I done fucked up my drawers My mind racin', runnin' to the paper, no time wasted Throw my B with a M, then 7-2, no sign language He never got to live through his prime, he died basic Balenciaga-aga-aga, these hoes cost five aces You still share a parkin' lot, I'm a driveway-er Boy, you stuck where it's cold, Militia, we some migrators I ain't live a beeper phase, unky, he had nine razors I pop out playin' brown tee, I'm not a MyPlayer This bitch cost a thou', he was a rat before he passed, throw the coffin out What I'm puttin' in my lungs, I might cough one out You never bought a Hellcat, just to dog one out, grr Hoes used to have cooties, now they got the clap They had a series against the gang, now they 'bout to pack Talkin' 'bout, "The scams dead", let me guess, they 'bout to trap Talkin' 'bout a weddin' ring, this bitch off a pound of crack If ain't no ERD jeans on Earth, then VIP me Finest shit out the group, I got D.I.B.Bs If you ain't DSM, can you D-l-E, please? Usually scream Unky, but it's free my TT Wouldn't buy your bitch Coney, she can eat my pee-pee Ride 'round, ninety shots, probably think I'm three deep Ride 'round, three-hundred grams, probably think I'm Chief Keef I go stupid up in Sacks, probably think I'm RiRi Couple seconds left shootin', I'm just thinkin', "G.G" I'ma hit 'em where it hurt, I'm just thinkin' deep three Love the crib, but for the summer, shit, I'm thinkin' Peach Street Long hair, fake buffs, shit, he thinkin' he me J-Dub and Shea, me and fuzz tucked up under If the gang on your slip, best not go for under ShittyBoy, I might get a bust, rose gold plunder I turn the Faygo cream to Bobo's color Bahamas or Jamaica? Bae, go get your passport You know what I came from, I won't forget your last four Creatin' fake beef, oh, you hashtag that bored? I got two Benji Frank's on the digi dashboard Must've had a red rapper 'cause they're Kitty Kat tour This is not a white tee, silly, it's a dance floor Could've played the Goyard 50 in the JanSport I slide, slide, slide, forgive me, said my hands sore Know they call me MegaTron, Jimmy finna transform Ball Harbor, Blue 60, really could've cashed more Go against the team, that's a really bad choice You a hit-drank heathen, lil' silly-ass boy Stop askin' for the sauce, go cook and find the recipe This psilocybin got me sweatin' like some ecstasy Bitch, you wouldn't be my bae out in Chesapeake I'ma slam you through the bed, we can't wrestle free Unk gotta play for the— out in Dundee I'm a YN cut on tune, not no Bunna B Can't believe you cuffed the old girl, that lil' butt stink You should go and try to buy Ritz from lil' Chuck, stink Yeah, I know I'm rich, but don't trust me We'll slime him out, throw him in the toilet flushin' Lamar Jack' ex-Vick, try and rush me I told you that I want a Fanta, please don't try to crush me I'm on forty-five milligrams, please don't try to bump me That'll be the worst mistake that you ever made My big fella James shoot like he Escalade Don't hit that blunt too hard, boy, your chest gon' cave Huh, is your chest okay? We sent a .50 out the drum, is your vest okay? It ain't no way How was that? He outta there? Seven-seven, double seven, Troncic Seven-seven, double seven, Troncic