Fuck your repost nigga. Lyrics

Hahaha Haaa

This shit just keep me calm at this point

You hear me

Hmm hm

Aye I got a- I got a real question

How the fuck all these hoes got a innie belly button

Like every hoe

Every- every hoe got a innie belly button?

God damn

No originality

These nigga hate me

Lil bitch keep trying to date me

Bro trying to bate me

What

Nigga ask me what's my location huh

I'm on vacation yup

Until I find a way to beat my probation damn

The judge tryna break me

My grandmama told baby that's just Satan baby

These niggas be on dicks

Everybody know I don't be on shit

I stay out mix with a thick bad bitch

I get too much money for conflict

I think it's time put me on the list

If I ain't your five I gotttah be six

She thinking Zara

What

Baby these Rick's

What

My bank account came with a switch

Don't get confused nigga I ain't rich

Yeah I say cuz naw I ain't crip

They probably think that I write this shit

I'm like that

They just don't want to admit

Niggas be hating in groups and shit

Sounding the same like a duplicate

Talk about gang like they true to this shit

Nowhere to be found when its time to blick

My Instagram shadow banned got me like damn

One hundred mans we going rock till I'm up again

Fuck a shout out don't repost till you confident

I got less followers than accomplishments

Man don't nobody want to hear about that shit mane

Niggas don't want to hear about you preach about support

None of that shit

Don't nobody want to hear that shit

Matter of fact fuck your repost nigga

Don't repost my shit unless you confident in me

If you ain't confident in me, fuck you

I'm the nigga from trenches

I ain't make it up to riches

But bitch I'm a get it

I got twenty in my bridges

But I got forty by my belt if you play you get finished

All these niggas say they next

But all that drip hit the same you need to replenish

I don't do it for the fame and I ain't part of no gang

Put me in the Guniness

My mic be a treesh

Roller, thot, hoe, bitch

Hop on it and beast

And I give up for free

So you can say all of my music belong to the streets

Yeah my pocket filled with quiche

Fuck is that

Dats some high level grated cheese

I ain't dealing wit a piece

Cuz if my palm itch

Hope you know that I'm a squeeze

Haha haaaaa