Mancala ft. D Tenox Lyrics

I pick up your bitch

And I'm dropping her off

I play with that hoe like Mancala

Then hop in the Wraith

Turn the hoe to a Casper

They after the sauce, my marsala

Shawty looking like a feen, shit

I send her ass home with no dollar

I fuck them then block them, I'm the king shit

No LBJ on Iguadala

They thinking I'm feeling them?

Nah n- I'm yawning

Their aura subpar to the shit I'm embarked in

I just flew a hundred from LA to Parkland

They think I'm the man

What the fuck is they talking

Ain't post on the gram

Because them twelve and the Stocktons

I'm looking like a Rockefeller

Way I sip this wock, forever

I'm signed up to Glock-a-fella

Way I keep it cocked and ready

You're looking like a dead man ay

I wouldn't even dap you up with the left hand

Silent hitmaker

That's why my paper come from Def Jam

Brothers not from blood

Shit run deeper than the step-fam

Forties military

Going to eliminate the lead jam ay

You a dead man

You a dead man

You a dead man

I pick up your bitch

And I'm dropping her off

I play with that hoe like Mancala

Then hop in the Wraith

Turn the hoe to a Casper

They after the sauce, my marsala

Shawty looking like a feen, shit

I send her ass home with no dollar

I fuck them then block them, I'm the king shit

No LBJ on Iguadala

They thinking I'm feeling them?

Nah n- I'm yawning

Their aura subpar to the shit I'm embarked in

I just flew a hundred from LA to Parkland

They think I'm the man

What the fuck is they talking

Ain't post on the gram

Because them twelve and the Stocktons

I'm looking like a Rockefeller

Way I sip this wock, forever

I'm signed up to Glock-a-fella

Way I keep it cocked and ready

Know they're sleeping mane

Two k' to a dime up for that feature mane

Whose cc did we swipe

For that ether flame

Two zips up to the face

Sixteen eighths, before we see the plane

LA to MIA

Hundred racks, no packs get seized up

Cali pack

Out to the mountains

Go fly thousand back

Ronald's back

Drive thrus and corner's

Where they found me at

Slack a sack

Made up for the weight

In all the pounds they lack

Give me that

All them custys

That's gon' blow them folds and stacks

I pick up your bitch

And I'm dropping her off

I play with that hoe like Mancala

Then hop in the Wraith

Turn the hoe to a Casper

They after the sauce, my marsala

Shawty looking like a feen, shit

I send her ass home with no dollar

I fuck them then block them, I'm the king shit

No LBJ on Iguadala

They thinking I'm feeling them?

Nah n- I'm yawning

Their aura subpar to the shit I'm embarked in

I just flew a hundred from LA to Parkland

They think I'm the man

What the fuck is they talking

Ain't post on the gram

Because them twelve and the Stocktons

I'm looking like a Rockefeller

Way I sip this wock, forever

I'm signed up to Glock-a-fella

Way I keep it cocked and ready