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lyrics
[Damn son where they do that at
When did they get used to that
I'ma fool with the money
You can say I'm blowing stupid racks]
Damn bruh, what you, Talking bout
Rolling up an, I'm smoking loud
Ask around,,I'm blowing up
An posted up, hear me now
Strike em out,Three Strikes
My money crispy,Clean nikes
An my hands they filthy
Tuning up no Street bikes
Get in my level,You not
Don't try an touch me,I'm hot
She huffing and puffing
An I was fucking that thot
Turning it up ,A notch
She slummin it with,My squad
We jumping an bussin
Running the money we got
Where they do that,Right here
You know we keep it, Hype here
My crew go, get blue notes
You too slow, An we strike fear
We don't bark,we bite here
On Adderall, My mind clear
Like basketball, I'm boutta ball
Like curry, with that hype gear
[]
Slumburb, Dystopia
Five one three,I'm holding up
Right by me, one three seven
Dirty money, we blowing up
Them dirty bands,Make dirty work
I get the worm,The early bird
Moving percs, turning turn
More smoke than wood they burned
Tryna fuck it up,We go hard
I know it all,Tarot card
Im showing off, I blow it all
I'll make it back, ain't no harm
I'm taking off,No post card
School you wit,No note cards
I do this shit, I'm bulletproof
Got air time no Phone card
Add them numbers up,Like grade school
So much ice, I stay cool
Liked bright lights, my ice shine
An I grind like a Straight fool
Slow and steady,Zamboni
Ain't no fronts,Cash only
Rolling blunts, fool me once
Fool me twice, you a damn phony
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