Badu

che

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    (Che on the beat)
    (You're now smoking with the best)
    (Che on the beat)

    If we locked in, you don't gotta worry, boy, you know I got you
    Bitch wan' play like monsoon
    Sayso say he might just pop you
    Niggas only worry about what you do, or what I do
    Glocky hit his spine (Glocky, you know, Glocky)
    That shit feed ya just like some hot food
    Yo' girlfriend a Badu
    I'm sharp as a shark tooth ('kay, okay)
    Girl, know that we shot you
    Pussy boy, we caught you
    Shootouts, yeah, we all do (that)
    She Erykah Badu (yeah, yeah)
    [A school, that's summer part two?]
    Who ain't run your block, dude?
    Who gon' run your block, dude?
    They the feds that caught you
    Gangsta boy, that's not you (no)
    Some soldiers that I lost too
    Ain't nobody that Iost too
    I shoot guns and rob too
    I take Oxy' bars too
    Spam the trigger, R2
    Count up guap, that's all I do (count up guap, that's all I do)
    ARP, that's all I shoot
    Mind gone, that's all I knew
    Pistol whip, he lost a tooth
    All my soldiers in the booth, boy, now your soldiers in the juve'
    I ain't tryna get in to you, I just wan' get into you (yeah)
    This brand-new stick, it's for you (yeah)
    My dick, she lick, 'cause she boo (uh, oh-yeah)
    I don't do kisses, lil' boo (no)
    I just do flat sex, lil' boo
    Eat me like a edible
    Dump the mag' of ammo
    Boy, the H big intervals
    Caught yo' mans, now he a ghost
    M-M-Margiela belt, yeah, I like clothes
    Tell her come through, yeah, I like hoes
    Smoke out the bong, yeah, and the bowls
    Shootout with all the internet trolls
    Show 'em on the internet, ho
    I don't even fuck with Instagram hoes
    B-b-but I might fuck with you for the one time
    Nigga ain't clutching my gun, that's mine
    N-n-nigga like: Who you be with that's a bop?
    I'm tryna take up my sis' and my mom
    In the airport, I'ma bring a fucking bong
    Oh, she on Pornhub. Com
    Oh, she wanna fuck, that's true
    Uh, get 'em hot just like a bomb
    My bank account came with some commas, yeah
    I don't really come without dro', yeah
    Come out, and I probably done shot you (woah)
    They'll probably say I've been the highest
    If they don't know then I'll remind it
    Got stars on the roof, yeah, that's what I did
    In the booth, but you know I don't write shit
    Couple hoes, couple hoes, and five spliffs
    You say you make money, like, type shit
    Ran off with my swag, that's my shit
    Say you got that weed like my shit
    Niggas want everything, boy, you're hiding

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    (Woah, woah)

    Song details

    Composition: Che

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