Lyrics

[Intro: Damedot] (Welcome to the trenches, stay dangerous) Hey Hey, hey Yeah [Chorus: Young Will] I want you, baby, your nigga a HAM Twistin' my fingers, I'm five-letter fam I got her bent over showin' her yams I'm in a drop-top coupe on the 'Gram She make a move without usin' her hands She give me head without usin' her hands I just got 'em wacked by— I just got 'em wacked by the nod of my head That's what he get for not usin' his head Twenty-four hundred, that's just for my pants I hit her already, I'm wantin' her friend Bustdown APs, presis, Cuban link Diamond links, nigga, you know how we playin' Bitch, I just might fly you to Turks Bitch, I just might buy you a purse Bitch, I should charge you for a verse, bitch [Verse 1: Young Will] You know that I'm puttin' in work I'm slidin' in Demon to church Put a fuck nigga right on a shirt Hey, then I go make me a verse Ice on my neck and my hands to sleaze Niggas get spinned tryna go 'gainst the team The shirt got no print, but the bitch said "Celine" The money turn me out to a fiend Your bitch on her hands and knees I'm sellin' P's, ten of 'em gone in a week Can't go for bargain, my price my fee Zaza hit like Muhammad Ali This bitch go from 0 to 60 in three How many bitches could I fit in a sleeve? Rick Owens shirt and it's made out of sheep These hoes love a nigga who spend, not cheap [Chorus: Young Will] I want you, baby, your nigga a HAM Twistin' my fingers, I'm five-letter fam I got her bent over showin' her yams I'm in a drop-top coupe on the 'Gram She make a move without usin' her hands She give me head without usin' her hands I just got 'em wacked by— I just got 'em wacked by the nod of my head That's what he get for not usin' his head Twenty-four hundred, that's just for my pants I hit her already, I'm wantin' her friend Bustdown APs, presis, Cuban link Diamond links, nigga, you know how we playin' Bitch, I just might fly you to Turks Bitch, I just might buy you a purse Bitch, I should charge you for a verse, bitch [Verse 2: Damedot & Young Will] Yeah, I'm fresh like I'm goin' to church Have you ever been to the Turks? Bae, can I buy you a Perc'? Hey, she fine, I'ma Louis her purse Switch on the Glocky is makin' it squirt They skip the sheep just to make me a shirt Maybach truck, I'm knowin' they hurt Due plays, we pressin' for a quart How I'ma want you, your nigga a fan Tattoo my body, I'm five-letter fam I walk in the bank, they know who I am Bustdown Rose Gold AP, plain anniversary diamond links, you heard what he said Bitch, I might just fly you to Turks Bitch, I might rain if you twerk Bitch, you know I'm the greatest on Earth (Yeah, bitch) [Chorus: Young Will] I want you, baby, your nigga a HAM Twistin' my fingers, I'm five-letter fam I got her bent over showin' her yams I'm in a drop-top coupe on the 'Gram She make a move without usin' her hands She give me head without usin' her hands I just got 'em wacked by— I just got 'em wacked by the nod of my head That's what he get for not usin' his head Twenty-four hundred, that's just for my pants I hit her already, I'm wantin' her friend Bustdown APs, presis, Cuban link Diamond links, nigga, you know how we playin' Bitch, I just might fly you to Turks Bitch, I just might buy you a purse Bitch, I should charge you for a verse, bitch