TOO MANY GRAMS

Lyrics

[Intro] Shit [Chorus: Damedot] Yeah, plug just sent too many grams This shit pure, it ain't touch too many hands She got too much booty in the pants Bad bitch asked me if she can get a chance (Damn) Nah, I ain't into romance (I ain't into that) Bitch, we could fuck or we could count these bands White Gucci hoodie on, Ku Klux Klan How you backstab me and you my mans? [Post-Chorus: Young Will] This bitch ain't bad, I need two of her friends (Nah) The ho ain't shit, she'll fuck for seafood Boy, you in a room at the Holiday Inn (Haha) We got ARs, pistols, and chops Whenever we ride, that's held up behind tint (Brrt, brrt, brrt) Got a nigga mad, probably fucked his bitch Nigga, if you ain't talkin', how you gettin' out quick? Niggas broke, chillin', sittin' in the house sick [Verse 1: Young Will] Big ten-milli' on my hip make me walk with a limp It ain't no murder if you squeezin' the triggеr Ain't hittin' your target, they call it attempts Nigga, I'm a boss to your bitch, you a shrimp I fuck whеnever I please, I pay her to leave Lil' nigga, I'm somethin' like a pimp He tried to diss me for clout I'm playin' like I never seen him, but I'm sendin' hits [Verse 2: Damedot] I'm over the stove, I ain't cookin' grits My bitch a homebody, she ain't ever in the mix I was sleep off the drank, she was tryna take a pic I'm a quarterback, I ain't tryna get blitzed In the kitchen with a mask on my face like I'm Rip He ain't no dancer, we gon' make a nigga strip Nah, I ain't no thief, but I'll steal a nigga bitch [Verse 3: Young Will] Then send her ass home 'cause her head ain't shit My nigga wanna shoot, he don't wanna take a pic How many bands can I stuff in the vent? Niggas be chasin' these hoes, they feelings get hurt He got killed for thinkin' with his dick My niggas lay in your grass and get on your ass It'll be over before you can snitch On the dark web tryna search up a brick Niggas try to steal all the sauce then switch That bitch too basic, bro, I couldn't even hit I'm bored as hell inside of the crib Turn on Alexa to play all my shit He was so gangster, now he in a blunt Since he so loud, we gon' turn him to Runtz I fucked that bitch and I went on the run She keep on callin', ain't seen me in months [Chorus: Damedot] Yeah, plug just sent too many grams This shit pure, it ain't touch too many hands She got too much booty in the pants Bad bitch asked me if she can get a chance (Damn) Nah, I ain't into romance (I ain't into that) Bitch, we could fuck or we could count these bands White Gucci hoodie on, Ku Klux Klan How you backstab me and you my mans? [Post-Chorus: Young Will] This bitch ain't bad, I need two of her friends The ho ain't shit, she'll fuck for seafood Boy, you in a room at the Holiday Inn (Haha) We got ARs, pistols, and chops Whenever we ride, that's held up behind tint Got a nigga mad, probably fucked his bitch Nigga, if you ain't talkin', how you gettin' out quick? Niggas broke, chillin', sittin' in the house, sick