Whats Ours

Lyrics

[Chorus: Joey Fatts] Hop in that [?] body, swerve Young nigga straight off the curb Really get to it, boy, fuck what you heard [?] on ice My bitch [?] splurge I tell her don't trip on the price But she's still mad, girl, you got your nerve Hella boujee but not for the burbs [?] my hand up her skirt And we ride with my strap in her purse [?] taking the charge They ask how I'm living, I'm living it large, ayy Cut throat, let no one or no thing come between [?] [Verse 1: Joey Fatts] [?] ashes on my chrome hearts My bitch told me she was leaving but I'm knowing that she never go far My lil bro got a demon, drive that bitch like it was a go-kart All thе shit that we achieving, we ain't got a choicе but to go hard (Go hard, nigga) Self-made, need a real paid bitch who gon' suck and fuck and don't say shit I brought the homies, girl, who you came with? In some years from now we gon' be on the same shit All blue strips in the duffel, money gon' be coming in double Mac and cheese coming out truffle Just stuck in my rich nigga ways now Let a bitch nigga play now Once we get that location my niggas gon' slide We treat that boy's block like a playground Before the pandemic I wasn't outside I been getting money since K-Town Nigga get down and you can lay do Wn with the same niggas 'cause they stayed down Since we moved packs on greyhounds I'm way out of these niggas range now And all of my niggas is paid now Out [?] grinding myself Hit the bank, deposit $100K, that's just notch in the belt, Fatts [Chorus: Joey Fatts] Hop in that [?] body, swerve Young nigga straight off the curb Really get to it, boy, fuck what you heard [?] on ice My bitch [?] splurge I tell her don't trip on the price But she's still mad, girl, you got your nerve Hella boujee but not for the burbs [?] my hand up her skirt And we ride with my strap in her purse [?] taking the charge They ask how I'm living, I'm living it large, ayy Cut throat, let no one or no thing come between [?] [Verse 2: Dave East] Hella boujee, my crib in the burbs Hop in my Maybach and swerve Smoking, I'm knocking G Herb [?] niggas get on my nerve Y'all niggas got some nerve I don't drink lean no more I almost relapsed 'cause I got some syrup [?] right off the curb [?] my pocket, tryna make profit Niggas is trash, the rest of 'em garbage [?] stuck on my conscience I [?] back then pull up with chopsticks Presidential on the Rollie Pockets is fat, I be feeling like Joey (My nigga) See me on Instagram but you don't know me See you on TV, you niggas don't know me If I'm in LA you know I'm in the [?] I got the drop that I got from a birdie I feel like Pac, I'ma pop it like [?] Louis my socks, I be coppin' shit early I'm [?] and I'm thinkin' 'bout Yams And I [?] on the grams Pull up in pink like I'm Cam Used to think what I can keep off these grams I'm talking staircase, private sales Niggas'll murder you bear face No mask, we toe tag Know a nigga did it when he stay away Grimy niggas, they be still around At the funeral and all that With your name on their ball cap Claiming they love you, it's all cap [?] they call, I don't call back I feel the [?] through their handshake No witness [?] can't trace They know I'm the artist they can't trace [?] look in the mirror and can't face [?] [Chorus: Joey Fatts] Hop in that [?] body, swerve Young nigga straight off the curb Really get to it, boy, fuck what you heard [?] on ice My bitch [?] splurge I tell her don't trip on the price But she's still mad, girl, you got your nerve Hella boujee but not for the burbs [?] my hand up her skirt And we ride with my strap in her purse [?] taking the charge They ask how I'm living, I'm living it large, ayy Cut throat, let no one or no thing come between [?]