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    Was at the cookout with my other, other, other man, mm
    That done got me into some motherfucking trouble man
    Texas boy, the way I love it, love it, love it, man, mm
    All these new niggas they stealin' but it don't hit the same, uh
    Feel it in your veins, uh, nigga, I love my gang
    That's why I fuck my gang, mm, why I fuck my gang, uh
    Ain't no play today, these ain't just 808s, uh
    This a murder case, uh, this a murder case, uh
    Ain't no pushin' me, uh, uh, I shake your head, it deceased, uh
    Ayy, don't hit on me, uh, uh, if that boy ain't seen it
    He lucky that nigga still breathin', I don't know what y'all seein'
    Take my shirt off, run off, then I swallow that nigga's semen

    Uh, done being humble so I had to flex
    Way that I rack up my bands make 'em sweat
    40 acres and a mule on my neck
    Better to talk to me with some respect
    Heard they ain't make it, I couldn't have guessed
    I'll cut the ram that connects to your vest
    And I'm chiefing the keef of a pound of the best
    Doin' it right, takes a couple attempts
    Had to keep climbing and catch the ascent
    Made it look casual 'cause I'm the best
    Studio gallery all on our wrists
    Hold on exactly what do you suggest?
    When I'm aiming, ain't no use for a vest
    When I'm on Tinder, I get cream at the scene
    And when I leave, it's grotesque, it's a finesse, yes

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    Way she throwin' it so fast you'd think she need some Tommy John
    Surgery, nurse gon' pass me over, gimme that scalpel please
    Diggin' through this shit like it was '06, polka jeans
    Green Lamborghin' look like Bulbasaur, and his dad
    Catch 'em all, bubblegum ain't allowed
    Sittin' up on that terrace, drinking red wine with cantaloupe
    Thousand-dollar phone, what the hell I can't answer for?
    I can't see the haters man, uh, Harry Potter cloak
    Let this shit rock, we come in like a landslide
    They don't call me up, they hit the cell, don't hit the landline
    Feet up sippin' hibiscus, I'll burn my damn tongue
    Sea salt on that cookie plate, I call that Atlantic crumbs
    She from Idaho, friends call her "tater thot"
    She from outta town, she never seen the ocean, wow
    She asked me, what's my favorite place to spend a lot? Uh
    That depends, like an eight dough bagel box

    Información de la canción

    Composición: Joba, Dom McLennon, Matt Champion, Kevin Abstract, Jonah Abraham y Kiko Merley

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