Young Rich Squad) Aight, yeah I think I be countin' bread too much Yeah (Yeah) , look, haha
I think I be countin' bread too much Bambo choppas make him double dutch, haha I just got here, what the fuck is up? Yeah Bitch, what's popping? Let's roll up a blunt, yeah Niggas hatin', but just chase a bag Represent the Puerto Rican flag, haha Fuck your daughter, I make your shorty gag, ha I hit Gucci, never check a tag I love money, that's a fact, uh-huh, haha She a baddie, make it clap, uh-huh, yeah Bitch, I'm 'bout it, I don't act, uh, uh, yeah Pistol make him heart attack, uh, uh I've been rockin' Yves Saint Laurent, yeah Can't pronounce it, always say it wrong, yeah Call me Trap, I'm smokin' on some strong, yeah Flip a pack, I got the birdies gone, huh, ayy Bitch, I get them bands, uh I get-, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh, uh I count dividends, yeah, mm, yeah You can't see my lands, uh I see through the glass, uh You see through the fence, uh, shit, uh Niggas on defense Why you so defensive? (Bitch) But you just offensive (What?) I just had to throw the Vvs' on my necklace Ask the other opps, you pussy boys do not wanna test us, yeah
Bitch, Trap
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