[verse] That ain't really loud Couldn't raise his voice Cause the wave gone Niggas sound like reggie (already, already Nigga goin' in, fuck it) Pray to the pipe, (fuck it) I slide deep inside Not too deep, not too shallow I might, full at sight She shock full of my swipe Like a capsule so tight With that substance you need Start a family tonight Big body murk, led lights And it's all overpriced The dollar been cheap than a bitch Tuberose and two lips On the boxes you ripped From the holes in your skin Hit the road and get rich Or stay home and get broke It's your choice in the end Yeah they watching my fence Like they next to my kin Like they paid by the pope Got some priests by the door Frisk the dealers before They step into my glow Oh my my Get it, get it
Compositor: Christopher Breaux (BMI)Editor: F R e S H Produce Music (BMI)Administração: Bourgoise-music Co (BMI)ECAD verificado obra #15461879 em 20/Mai/2024 com dados da UBEM