Olive

Lyrics
[Intro with Hiiighroglitch] Aye bro, what's the nig Uh, I just got a real quick question It's just like, why is it that you just be obsessing over these girls I mean like, come on man But if you like it, I love it [Pre Chorus] If you like it I love it If you like it I love it If you like it I love it If you like it I.. LOVE IT. 2x [Verse 1] Crash-landed where it's filled with dope poverty cashing Metal arm, bad man, soldier bitch I want the Jacksons Rolling slower than the speed limit in swerving traffic Stopping time, rewind to find my self and my holy passion Booty strippers, Hennessy and Carties get the party started Cocoa butter black skinneded women on 8 and Harper Westsider, riding dolo coney trippin' with 11 dollars Chicken tender salad, share it with my family y'all can't understand me [Chorus] I love it I love it I love it Yeah I love it I love it I love you Yeah Killing yourself when divided Loving just God & the Squad [Verse 2 with Whyandotte] Round and round the merry go There he go, with his shawty lo' Baby ratchet, flapjacks smackin' on the kitchen floor Baby let me know, formula, warning ya Don't be swaying in the morning bruh She'll cut those five fingers off I love the way that she feel, yeah I love the way that it moves, yeah I love the cadence and shaking and breaking the points Everything that she do, yeah I make it do what it does, yeah I make it do what it does, yeah Keep it locked down like a drug, yeah Baby girl know I got love, yeah [Chorus] [Verse 3 with Atlas] Yo, fuck it homie I be staying in Game over, watch me play again Falling deep in love with cadences Patience is not a virtue, why you labeling? None of my homies been aiming in None of my homies got hate in they hearts It's all love where I come from, 'less you talkin' shit and then we make you depart My whole conglomerate taking the globe, paving the road and (I don't know y'all) I got homies who paint and can sculpt turn pages to poetry (I don't know y'all) If you ain't in with the clique, don't act like you slick bitch (I don't know y'all) Arms are open to the closest folks, hope you going ghost though 'cause (I don't know y'all) [Chorus]
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Credits
- Writers
- Patrick Kelly
- Nick McCorkle
- John Johnson Jr.