Coco (feat. Lucki)

Lil Tracy

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    (Ginseng)

    [Lil Tracy]
    Hold up, dropped a hundred rackies on a house
    Used to sleep on my grandmama couch
    Now my bitch got Chanel on her blouse, ooh
    I'm finna have sex with her mouth, okay
    Ain't none of my checks finna bounce
    I think her ass fake, it don't bounce
    I'ma just get the face and then bounce
    How you rich? You don't have an account
    She told me she wish I was dead
    I'm like, "Wait, was it something I said?"
    He not rich, that's just special effects
    Swear to God I stay lemonade fresh
    Fuck a job, I get paid just to flex
    Fuck the cops, I got hate for the feds
    I just hang with my money, no friends

    No friends, no friends, no friends (Woo)
    I'm in New York City, so I just bought me some Timbs, yeah
    Fell in love with Coco, I got Chanel bracelets, yeah
    Walked inside of Toto', I put Prada on my limbs
    Black Benz, black rims, black tints
    The way I live my life, I hope that God forgive my sins
    I don't believe the hype, I know you broke, boy, don't pretend
    Yeah, all my diamonds cold, they make me shiver just like wind
    I was quarantined with a bad bitch and we made a movie just like Brad Pitt
    Mike Amiri jeans came from Saks Fifth, and the pockets full, so I'm saggin'
    I don't want Z's, I just want M's, I'ma have to do some mathematics
    My feet got the Raf Sims, and that bitch told me I'm attractive

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    Hold up, dropped a hundred rackies on a house
    Used to sleep on my grandmama couch
    Now my bitch got Chanel on her blouse, ooh
    I'm finna have sex with her mouth, okay
    Ain't none of my checks finna bounce
    I think her ass fake, it don't bounce
    I'ma just get the face and then bounce
    How you rich? You don't have an account
    She told me she wish I was dead
    I'm like, "Wait, was it something I said?"
    He not rich, that's just special effects
    Swear to God I stay lemonade fresh
    Fuck a job, I get paid just to flex
    Fuck the cops, I got hate for the feds
    I just hang with my money, no friends

    [Lucki]
    I just hang with my money, no friends, ayy, ayy
    I just hang with my money, no, uh
    I just hang with my money, no friends
    Trackhawk, supercharged Jeep
    That's just Tune, he be gone with the wind
    Crazy girl, superstar me
    We just live for the moment and sin
    AMG, not the regular Benz
    Put her life in some devilish hands, uh
    I'ma be on TV when you see me
    Bet these boys nod off in a meeting
    Junkie boys all wanna be me
    Really no flaws, it's different
    She love when we come, we the tippers
    No more love for no stripper, uh
    Codeine clogging my liver, uh
    You said I'ma be on TV when you see me
    She said, "I'm done," but I miss her

    [Lil Tracy]
    Hold up, dropped a hundred rackies on a house
    Used to sleep on my grandmama couch
    Now my bitch got Chanel on her blouse, ooh
    I'm finna have sex with her mouth, okay
    Ain't none of my checks finna bounce
    I think her ass fake, it don't bounce
    I'ma just get the face and then bounce
    How you rich? You don't have an account
    She told me she wish I was dead
    I'm like, "Wait, was it something I said?"
    He not rich, that's just special effects
    Swear to God I stay lemonade fresh
    Fuck a job, I get paid just to flex
    Fuck the cops, I got hate for the feds
    I just hang with my money, no friends

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