Wit U

Lyrics

[Intro] Like, we overly P, like, capitol P Like, the biggest one, nigga Huh, fuck you talking 'bout? Talking 'bout real deal playa [Verse 1: RXKNephew] She talking 'bout trust, but I don't know that Flexing that money, you don't own that Dope hit like a throwback BBL, she ain't doing none of that With the Glock I turn to a running back Please put respect on my name I'm talking all three of yall I'm not gon' say it no more I used to fuck on the air matress I got more money than a step daddy In my twenties, I could be her sugar daddy Diamonds dancing while she looking at me 'Cause when I'm with you My Glock come in two-ooh-ooh I'll up this bitch shoot everybody Don't touch the doorknob, you better not Whoever came with you, they getting shot Glock in my pants, do you like Cheddar Bob Chain bigger than Flava Flav clock That's not my wife, that's my thot You gon' rob who? No you not My bitch pussy wet, splash Put you in a body cast Me and Tony pull up like Furious Fast Chain dancing, don't you try to grab Fuck more shit than AR-AB My bitch badder than SZA I hit it from the side, I was lazy These pills got me going crazy Don't make me kill you for my dog Doo-doo-beep, one phone call Glock .40 on your ass like drawers Glock'll hit your throat, pause Opps move like RuPaul They in jail with no phone calls Can't pay your pill, they turned your phone off Bitch pussy hit like mashed potatoes and coleslaw I hit more licks than Bojangles They gon' give me more time than jangalang Two Glocks look like Ying Yang Lil' bitch, Ling Ling She eat beef patties and wing dings We on [?] not Peachtree [Verse 2: Tony Shhnow] I'm killing her body, she say she would die for me She wanna choose so I lie to her, honestly No, I ain't perfect, the closest I gotta be One hand in the air while she riding me I fuck her mouth, make her talk to me We ride double G, used to park triple C I done came a long way from that triple [?] I hit [?] clothes, now I get [?] I just wrap it, it look like I hit for the [?] Smoother than silk, when I hop out, I walk out, I finger fuck money, no Vaseline I'm with my side hoe, she like popping beans My choppa taller than Baby Keem Used to be on [?] now I go cross gold, Franks on me, big bankroll [?] now I got a bad bitch, look like J-Lo I know some niggas riding 'round with that pot, nigga, used to have shooters on payroll I know some niggas balled out on the Varsity, now that just manage in metro [?] but it ain't hard I can let that shit go I take shrooms up to the face just to cope I cross a fuck nigga out like the Pope I cross a fuck nigga out like Kyrie Play if you want, but I got it on me I don't like A&R's, they the police I spent five-hunnid for that white tee Rappers going 12-23, I guess you could say they going Ice-T And you niggas nothing like me It would be a cold day in hell 'fore I take opinions from a hypebeast Pulling out 2020, bitch, I'm blowing quarter, laid up with a dimepiece She sucking dick while she talking to me, so I just lay up and let her mind speak I know niggas went sour on Lemon Street You could flex a lil' money, ain't shit to me You can act like you hard, you a bitch to me These niggas fake, when we say they be trapping, we using parenthesis Real steppers, my niggas, they strike, y'all boys still stuck in the Little League I write and they call me a plugg artist, and that's what I came from literally These rat niggas killing me Me and the money same like simile I made the man in the mirror my enemy I'm getting lost with the money, come get with me If you ain't stay in the traphouse when them lights got cut off, nigga, you can't sit with me [Outro] (Shadow Banned 2)