Songtext
Got a few pounds on me nigga, I been moving up
Ain't no tweeting in the studio until the music done
I don't even need a gun, my niggas shoot'm up
My main shorty like computers, she be bootin' up
New whip so stupid and it maneuver dumb
F&N grip so big, can't use my thumb
Weight ain't even weight now, you get used to tonnes
Niggas talk slick wit me and they lose a tongue
Say everything wit my chest, sorry to Janet Jackson
Don't even hit the zigzag, this a semi 'matic
My old shorty slept all day, she a xanny addict
I can get your nigga top twisted like candy wrappers
Nina staying on my hip boy, we just fanny pack it
Donnie might be Johnson how he can handle magic
New money meet old money, I do geriatrics
Crop top, lil' shorts, big belt— I look very balanced
Plate got a bunch of color on it, it's a varied palette
In the gym, got a big back and it carry Dallas
Niggas try to cross me, momma ain't Mary Magdalene
I can disrespect a opp, nigga he get buried backwards
You don't get no heads up nigga, just prepare the ratchet
We don't even keep tabs, your momma shared the address
Ooh, yeah
We don't even keep tabs, your momma shared the address
We don't even keep tabs, your momma shared the address
Donnie
You heard it here first
Ladon Alex
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