#GLAM Lyrics

And I told this bitch don't hit my phone

Boy you Smellin' fruity, just like a cologne

I told this bitch go, don't stay in my zone

Can't fuck with a clone, they be on my bone

And I told this bitch don't hit my phone

Boy you Smellin' fruity, just like a cologne

I told this bitch go, don't stay in my zone

Can't fuck with a clone, they be on my bone

Told this hoe for real

Eat you like a meal

You know I got steel

Tryna' pay the bill

Boy you bet that is a deal

200 Miles, give me the wheel

You know I ball like I'm Shaquille

Smoking on gas, never a pill

Only green stacks, in my pocket, let them hang

Only green stacks, in my pocket, make it rain

Only green stacks, in my pocket, let them hang

Only green stacks, in my pocket, make it rain

And his bitch name, Emma

Got a pistol full of ammo

Boy you better check your grammar

You got no swag, got no Glammer

Hit you in the head, with a hammer

Yea, bag full of money, I'm a spammer

And I told this bitch don't hit my phone

Boy you Smellin' fruity, just like a cologne

I told this bitch go, don't stay in my zone

Can't fuck with a clone, they be on my bone

And I told this bitch don't hit my phone

Boy you Smellin' fruity, just like a cologne

I told this bitch go, don't stay in my zone

Can't fuck with a clone, they be on my bone