Peacock Beats - Diet lyrics

[Verse 1] Wake up every day, boy, I'm swagging to the core I'mma pull up in a whip you never seen before Pack a few dubs when I'm out riding around Your b**h probably with me if she nowhere to be found Getting paid, getting laid, getting faded away Bad b**h walking by, you know I'mma say "Aye" Take her back to the crib, pop a bunch of Rose About 2 mollies later, and it's time to play Next day when I drop her off at her paddy She say "You look a little like my little girl Maddy" I threw that hoe right out of my caddy 'Cause on God, I ain't going to be no motherf**ing daddy I got more money than you'll ever get Broke n***a trying to steal some, we finna hit Man, all of this money be flowing to me Ain't nobody here matching the swag of the Z Money on the mind, money in the hand When I go out, carry 'round a band Loud on deck, be smoking it up Pouring way too much codeine in my cup Foreign cars, foreign hoes #Redbone, you already know All these haters trying to say I can't rap n***a, I'mma pop one in yo' a** Keep talking, and I'mma pop one in your head I got swag, enough said I hustle to keep my n***as high You got d**, I'm gon' buy I trap mo' than Gucci I swag mo' than Tunechi I wear so much Louis Broke n***a looking sad, ain't that funny? [Hook] Girl, you get with me, I pay yo' bills You could call my house a motherf**ing paper mill Yung Zee swagged out, man, I'm hella trill Packing loud, drank, and every kind of f**ing pill My pockets need a diet, diet, diet (x3) Me and all my n***as, man, we finna start a riot [Verse 2] So iced out, looking like the North Pole Going to the club, b**hes be on the pole To hit 4 commas is my goal I'm a hot n***a, f** you, you cold Life be different out there on the streets Never f**ing know who the hell you gon' meet Might see yo girl, now ain't that sweet? I see yo a**, man, you finna get beat If I catch a n***a talk sh** on the telephone Send a n***a out, tell him, "Put one in his dome." All my n***as know how I like my girl, redbone Pull up to the mansion, boy, now I'm home No sympathy for dead fake n***as Hell, I might have been the one who pulled that trigga White a** crackers, man, f** them wiggas I make them pussies hop like Tigga Some of these n***as trying to hate on me I don't give a f**, man, can't you see? While they be janking, in a mansion I be When they click play, I get mo' money Riding 'round 'lanta with me and my boys Rolling with the Techs, man, ain't no toys Hoes everywhere, that's what I enjoy Wack rappers make me annoyed My Sprite dirty, man, that sh** need a bath Got a n***a count my money, I can't do math All white rappers be fake a** white trash Pull up on them, drive by, back out in a flash All this money and fame make life fun Shouts out to all the real n***as ain't got none Man, I'm 2 fye, hotter then the damn sun Hoes be clapping for me, ain't no pun [Hook]