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    Bitches, rappers
    Rappers, bitches
    Way yall talkin on twitter
    Lil boy I can't tell the difference
    Purple herb in my swisher
    Yeah lil aahj my witness
    Pull up engine so vicious
    That seven digits the mission listen
    60 Fps
    These other rappers movin slow mo
    I was broke as shit and now I'm drippin in sum polo
    I dont pay for promo
    I stay on the low low
    I'm the kid who run the game call it miyamoto

    Bitch I'm heaven sent
    This is jus my genesis
    Marble floor my residence
    Pocket full of presidents
    My money so thick that I cannot fold the shit
    Talkin all that shit on twitter lil bitch kindly hold my dick
    Yeah I'm in gettin to the bag
    Watch me double park the whip
    My lil shawty break it down
    Roll it up and spark the shit

    U gon respect me as a lyricist
    I ain just a hair cut
    I ain just a face tat
    I'm sendin shots at everyone

    Keep all that designer
    I rock polo and tommy
    Rollin up my marijuana
    While she give me the sloppy

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    And all you trash ass soundcloud rappers I surpassed you
    Pull up in the aston I'm blowin past you

    U might see me do the dash blowin gas out the sun roof
    Lil bitch I'm so great I can't relate to not a one of you
    Can't nobody keep me down
    Or hold me from nothin
    If I want it ima get it
    Man it ain't no discussion
    As of lately I been tryna write a rap with some substance
    I was sick and tired of tryna be somebody I wasn't
    And I ain in this for a check
    I do this shit cause I love it
    You know I won't stop at nothin
    I take that feeling and trust it

    How you rock designer but you look like a clown?
    How I pull up to ya city and I shut the shit down
    I'm gettin paper
    I just copped a mercedes
    I'll catch you later
    Step up out the scraper
    Ballin like a laker
    In some purple bapesta's

    I think I'm feelin myself
    Shawty dice that pineapple that replinish my health

    Bitch its lit
    Find me with my clique
    Smokin out the zip
    Guy fieri wit the sauce
    Paul walker wit the whip
    Bitch

    I hate flexin but I can't help it
    Drop top burnt out on the pavement
    Dope rolled in some polo
    Let the champagne flow throwin c notes
    Backwoods rolled vacay for the weekend
    Couple girls gettin high in the deep end
    You want to you should come through
    Got the champagne flutes and the orange juice

    Información de la canción

    Composición: Oliver Fran

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