DCG Shun - Damon Sharpe lyrics

[Intro: BabySantana] Is it recording? Alright, let's get it Ayy, yeah (Uh) Ayy, yeah (Ayy CGM, where you at?) Ayy, yeah Ayy, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Ayy, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Ayy, yeah, yeah, brrr [Chorus: BabySantana] She said hey to me, I thought she was Damon Sharpe Mona Lisa, she a painted work of art Gas so high, I think I could touch the stars And my pockets fat, yeah, my pockets they all large (Woah, yeah) [Verse 1: BabySantana] Please don't hit my phone, you gon' get ignored Me, Dami and Sonny we gon' up the score I got hella girls that seem a galorе And my pockets fat She grabbing on my Ksubi's asking me likе what is that I got way too much to lose, if I need to call my slatt I'm a young stunna boy they say I look like my dad [Verse 2: KA$HDAMI] I'm paranoid, I'm always watching for that back door You ain't finna bust a ni**a, what you got that strap for Pop a ni**a like a zit, this 19 open up your pores I-I-I'm with Tana in Chicago on the top floor Private location, overnight sensation Sonny light the J and then we put it in rotation Baddie tryna pull up on me, text her the location ni**as steady in my phone, they begging for the placement [Verse 3: BabySantana] Hating on my Twitter, they ain't know that's motivation 2 girls in my crib and they ain't know they got relations Woke up in the party, we gon' shoot it up Shoutout to lil' Lawsy I'm so booted up So much True Religion, I stay truey'd up Sorry baby, I ain't mean to make a fool of ya [Chorus: BabySantana] She said hey to me, I thought she was Damon Sharpe Mona Lisa, she a painted work of art Gas so high, I think I could touch the stars And my pockets fat, yeah, my pockets they all large (Woah, yeah) [Verse 4: DCG Bsavv & DCG Shun] (Uh) Hey Santana we in a [?] You riding with us, just know we strapped We gotta make sure you get back A ni**a move wrong just know it's that Look, don't listen to sh*t on the net I hit from the back [?] on the cat I was 16, I running the bag We coming for ni**as, we all on they necks If you wanna talk don't go through @'s Whoever die next, we got get back I got a mil', so I could sit back You ain't a gangster, lil' boy get back We sell weed then we bought crack They bought crack and we got racks My opps get sick I'm rich off that Go through that b*tch and pass out the pack You don't know the half, I'm in it to win I stay with KA$H, yeah that's my twin I bought a Benz for my new friend I bought a clip for my new gym He boutta say that, "This my first mil'" b*tch, you never made that I'm loving the crowd, I might jump in I'm yelling, "Where my rage at?" I love grown b*tches, they be asking what my age at 10k for a show, I might not come if I get played with I leave with who I came with I shoot when I see strange sh*t They say I'm weird 'cause I hate lame sh*t And I'm never with the same b*tch [Chorus: BabySantana] She said hey to me, I thought she was Damon Sharpe Mona Lisa, she a painted work of art Gas so high, I think I could touch the stars And my pockets fat, yeah, my pockets they all large (Woah, yeah)