No fist fight, and I run up a check
You know I get the bag
My wrist cold, I don’t know what to say
I make you sad and mad
Drugged up like a zombie
Snort lines I got no sleep
Racks, yeah, I got a lot
Count a lot and spending on it
I just wanna go and count the bands
with the whole team
F- it, I ain’t gotta stop
Took a molly, getting top
I ain’t got no time to give a f- about
it’s true or not
Sipping on that Blueberry Faygo,
I can’t talk a lot
Take her to the crib,
I’ma take her to the parking lot
I’ma slap you like you’re Chris Rock
Oh, yeah, shorty sipping Wock’
I’m not a paparazzi, yeah, but I’m taking shots
Fire it like a fireball
We could’ve still been friends, yeah,
but I hit it from the back
She took my Louis V, but still,
I don’t know her name
Even the money calling,
I can never switch lanes
Money counter counting up
Still yelling, “F- fame”
Yeah, I’m counting blue cheese, every day,
I’m getting cake
I didn’t know that you got a man
No fist fight, and I run up a check
You know I get the bag
My wrist cold, I don’t know what to say
I make you sad and mad
Drugged up like a zombie
Snort lines I got no sleep
Racks, yeah, I got a lot
Count a lot and spending on it
I just wanna go and count the bands
with the whole team
No fist fight, and I run up a check
You know I get the bag
My wrist cold, I don’t know what to say
I make you sad and mad
Drugged up like a zombie
Snort lines I got no sleep
Racks, yeah, I got a lot
Count a lot and spending on it
I just wanna go and count the bands
with the whole team
F- it, I ain’t gotta stop
Took a molly, getting top
I ain’t got no time to give a f- about
it’s true or not
Sipping on that Blueberry Faygo,
I can’t talk a lot
Take her to the crib,
I’ma take her to the parking lot
I’ma slap you like you’re Chris Rock
Oh, yeah, shorty sipping Wock’
I’m not a paparazzi, yeah, but I’m taking shots
Fire it like a fireball
We could’ve still been friends, yeah,
but I hit it from the back
She took my Louis V, but still,
I don’t know her name
Even the money calling,
I can never switch lanes
Money counter counting up
Still yelling, “F- fame”
Yeah, I’m counting blue cheese, every day,
I’m getting cake
I didn’t know that you got a man
No fist fight, and I run up a check
You know I get the bag
My wrist cold, I don’t know what to say
I make you sad and mad
Drugged up like a zombie
Snort lines I got no sleep
Racks, yeah, I got a lot
Count a lot and spending on it
I just wanna go and count the bands
with the whole team