In The Beginning
Oh, oh
Da-da, oh
Who see me? Hmm
Oh, oh
Hmm
Hmm, la-la, la-la
Uh, da-da
Bitch I did this by myself
Nobody was checkin' on me like last year
Made it out, it's a problem, now these bitches claimin' they helped
You should tell me "I'm sorry", for callin' me with all that bullshit
Bitch told me "I ain't bout it", we be violatin' that full clip
Told her "That's on everything, yeah", got my opp bitch on the floor beggin' for wedding rings
And these niggas hatin' on me, they all pussy, you know they all fake
Bitch you don't know me, bang it out on broad day (Yeah)
Tell a bitch I want my guap, you know we keep them guns heavy
Cummin' all up in her face, bitch what you call that cumfetti
I ain't runnin' from nobody, we gon' leave 'em done empty
Bullet holes up in his body, brodie keep they own. 30
All these niggas 'round me strapped, that be the reason why he mad (Mad)
So addicted to this smoke, my mother researchin' rehab
Bitch I'm really from the X, no none of these niggas know me that well
Ended up robbin' my father, for his coke I want that cash well
Sniper get 'em, I don't play 'bout my shorty, he shootin' well (Boom)
How you claimin' you a huncho, in real life you by yourself?
'Cause if I kill you, ain't nobody gon' give a fuck about your death
You really pussy, actin' like you gangster, lyin' to yourself (Oh, oh)
I swear to God I might go off a nigga, catch 'em woppin', nigga (Oh, oh)
Run in the bank, I gotta package, twenty thousand dollars, nigga (Oh, oh)
I just wanna know why, they keep talkin' on a nigga? (Oh, oh)
Grab your bitch then make her fly, show her who a boss nigga
Real rap, my ex ain't really love a nigga, hmm
I'm traumatized from all this love, my nigga
Soon as I go turn my back, they throwin' subs, my nigga
That man callin' me his brother 'cause I'm up, my nigga
Bought a bitch a Birkin bag, yes I'm too lit, brother
We throw big colors
Big dripper, leavin' big puddles with my big brothers
That be meanin' we all live together, that's a big hustle
Shout out Bando, he ain't missin' nothin', we got big guns, it could get done
Hoppin' off a jet, I got the drop, my brodie swervin' off (Yeah)
Heard she really fuckin' with a broke nigga, she hurtin' now (Fuck 'em)
You ain't even got no money to talk to me like first of all (Ayy)
Yeah you got me bad, in my bag, got a purpose now
Got a lot to say, I'm holdin' back 'cause I don't give a fuck (Nah)
Gangsters move in silence, he was talkin', I'm still pullin' up
My new shorty mad 'cause I was in the studio workin' hard
Like bitch, I'm really workin' now
Bitch I did this by myself (Oh)
Nobody was checkin' on me like last year
Made it out, it's a problem, now these bitches claimin' they helped (Yeah)
You should tell me "I'm sorry", for callin' me with all that bullshit
Bitch told me "I ain't bout it", we be violatin' that full clip
Told her "That's on everything, yeah", got my opp bitch on the floor beggin' for wedding rings
And these niggas hatin' on me, they all pussy, you know they all fake (All fake)
Bitch you don't know me, bang it out on broad day (Broad)
Tell a bitch I want my guap, you know we keep them guns heavy
Cummin' all up in her face, bitch what you call that cumfetti
I ain't runnin' from nobody, we gon' leave 'em done empty (On God, yeah)
Bullet holes up in his body, brodie keep they own. 30 (Own. 30)
All these niggas 'round me strapped, that be the reason why he mad (Mad)
So addicted to this smoke, my mother researchin' rehab (Yeah)
Bitch I'm really from the X, no none of these niggas know me that well (Know me that well)
Ended up robbin' my father, for his coke I want that cash well (I want that cash, brodie)
That's on everything, yeah
Beggin' for wedding rings
They all pussy, you know they all fake
Yes I'm too lit, brother
Who see me?
See me on the Tv
Showin' all my Vvs
Compositores: Adrian Justin Baez (Justin Rarri), Levi R de Jong
ECAD: Obra #36629964