I got a bad b*tch to my left and my right
She wanna come over I don’t fu*k with dikes
I can’t fu*k with her it just don’t sit right
Gotta pull over the cops wanna fight
I got a notification on my phone
Its from Brooklyn but that b*tch can stay home
My b*tches like a deck of cards cause I got 52 sittin' at home
I got money in my backpack aye
I really be serving them crackheads aye
Making my money, quick bread aye
Lowkey I fu*k wit them red heads aye
Your b*tch is looking at me like I'm a snack
She wanna fu*k on me and I’m breaking her back
Then I gotta break her off like a kat
But once I brеak her off she actin like a brat
Shе saying I'm using her like a welcoming mat
Well wonder why my replies were flat
Ion give a fu*k about that b*tch she whack
I'm on to my next her ass is fat
We’re making it slap, we makin it clap, we making it echo in out of the back
I'm focused upon my craft I'm gonna blow up, Tunnel Vision, like Kodak Black
I’m really living in the dream I got a clingy b*tch and making music that is heat
She seems attached to me give it a couple years I'm gonna be on the scene