MDMA (feat. Destroy Lonely)

Ken Carson

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    Yeah, I've been sippin' way too much drank, I think I need a new kidney
    Every time I see a soda, I gotta pour some, I keep hittin'
    And every time your bitch see me roll up, she reminisce 'bout how I lick it
    I'm not your mans, I'm not your bro, don't call my phone when it get sticky
    I don't go nowhere, ayy, yeah, without my blicky
    I don't got no opps out here, niggas just hate me, niggas just envy
    When I was in school, I had to ask on my mama, now, she stay with Fendi
    Remember I could not afford designer belts, now look at me, boy I got plenty
    Balenci', Celine, Chanel
    My shooter, he dressed in designer, he ready to kill
    Put that lil' boy on a plate, he get ate like a meal
    All of these niggas be fake like a BBL
    But my bitch all real
    Yeah, my bitch look like a model, ooh
    He shot his shot but ain't follow through, ooh
    Rick on my collar, ooh, ooh
    This is not Prada, ooh, ooh
    Yeah, she not a toddler, ooh, ooh

    But I call her baby
    She let me drive a lil' Benz, now me and my friends slide in a Mercedes
    This a S550, nah, this not a Maybach, but yeah, it's the latest
    I get money, I get racks, I get paid, bitch
    Book a show, want a verse? Send a payment
    If you try, you gon' die where you lay, bitch
    None of my niggas won't miss, let you feel how that K hit
    I don't know what's on my kicks but it looks like I stepped in gravy
    Everybody rockin' all black, I wanna be different so I'm rockin' navy
    Lil' boy, you should've signed to Opium, I laugh at that nigga, he slavin'
    You ain't get no money, you ain't get no funds
    I count that shit up and I'm savin'
    I'm makin' ten, twelve, fifteen times whatever these niggas be makin'
    These niggas got it fucked up and these niggas be lyin'
    These niggas be cappin' on Instagram and Twitter
    Fuck a Tweet, fuck a post, nigga
    Talkin' 'bout racks, I get the most, nigga
    Talkin' 'bout hoes, I fuck the most, nigga
    I fuck on that bitch, then I'm goin' ghost
    You know you gotta keep your friends close, but your enemies closer
    That's why I walk with a Glock. 43 on my holster
    I put my bitch in Balenci', I told her to take off that Fashion Nova
    And she got Givenchy striped boots on her feet, they come a lil' closer
    Haha

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    Yeah, yeah, yeah
    I put that ho in ALYX, yeah, then tell her: Come closer, huh, yeah
    She say that she feelin' me, yeah, she tell me: Come over
    Yeah, got a freak, I'm finna hit right now as soon as we over
    Yeah, and I got some ice on me right now, lil' shawty, I'm cold
    Huh, huh, I can't leave my crib without my pole
    Huh, huh, I can't leave the crib without my pole
    Huh, yeah, I count up these racks for sure, for shit, for show
    Yeah, huh, I get the racks for a show, then rock that show
    Yeah, I just pop my shit, then pop that ho
    Big bro still serving rocks, yeah, but please keep that on the low, yeah
    Shawty, I'm a rockstar, my guitar got a scope

    I'm rockin' all black and my cross upside down, I'm not the Pope
    I'm smoking strong, I'm boolin' with this model ho and she love coke
    I'm in Europe, shawty spent like twenty-five on a new coat
    I'm gettin' paid, lil' shawty, I buy what I want up out that store
    If they in my way, then I'ma up that stick and let it go
    Huh, I been countin' up like too much cash, enough on my roll
    Yeah, we been breakin' the dash, this SRT been huggin' the road
    Huh, she just wanna come and fuck on the gang, that's for sure
    Yeah, I just wanna put some pointers all in the chain, for sure

    I get money, I get racks, I get paid, bitch
    Book a show, want a verse? Send a payment
    If you try, you gon' die where you lay, bitch
    None of my niggas won't miss, let you feel how that K hit
    I don't know what's on my kicks but it looks like I stepped in gravy
    Everybody rockin' all black, I wanna be different so I'm rockin' navy
    Lil' boy, you should've signed to Opium, I laugh at that nigga, he slavin'
    You ain't get no money, you ain't get no funds, I count that shit up and I'm savin'

    Song details

    Composition: Tobias Dekker, Ken Carson, Star Boy, Bart Hoewijk Van, and Am

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