PASS IT Lyrics

See, I think I'ma call this song

Two Face

Two, man, I don't even know

It's like two sides on this song

Two robbys

I put some wedding cake up in my raw cone I ain't getting married

I put the hours in my back hurt cause I had to carry

Think he buff but he ain't got no forearms, he looking like Larry

Take a puff, I'm flying like a hornet, like I'm Scary Terry

Bro, lil' shit, nobody like him, his air is too airy

Got DR on lock, the whole city off Diddy, I'm shitty

Like a little ghetto bitch, to carry my semi

I ain't fucking with a druggy, like the bitch Demi

You hear something, you can keep shit, you can go and tell everybody

Fucked that hoe once now she want me to send her some money

Ain't falling for the trap hoe cause I ain't no dummy

You turning on your mans, but you saying you don't trust nobody

Bitch, why the fuck would I trust you

There's some people in my family I don't even trust

And you thinking I'ma trust you

You a goofy lil' hoe, go pack up and go hit the road

Need me an exotic bitch, I'ma go pack up and go hit Rome

Strapped up with three fives, I take it straight to the dome

Fuck her real good, she screaming loud like nobody's home

Yeah, I'll admit I been eating good cause my stomach grown

Can't tear this shit apart, it's okay cause I know how to sew

Not to mention all the side cheese from the p's that I been selling

Gotta give a shout out to all the fiends that been supporting

And I had to step up, take your spot, now you demoted

And I still do better numbers than you, I ain't use promotion

What's in my cup? In the studio, a magic potion

Watch out for April 21st, I'm bout to cause commotion

11's casually, remember when they laugh at me

Now everybody around me want something from me

That's weird, my main goal to make music that helps someone cure

Like a bitch that sick, pretty upper class chandelier

Need someone to talk to, baby I got a ear

If you hold it down I'm putting VVs up into your ears

Like double R, baby girl this is that real talk

I be doing shit your pops ain't doing, I'm a real boss

You gotta fake social life, how you not feeling like a fraud

Shady shit, you had to hit your family's jewelry box and hit the pawn

I lock in, I got your drop, I'm all up in your spawn

Fade away, breakin records, man I'm feeling like LeBron

YSL, real slimy, shit, I'm all in Saint Laurent

Devin Booker, how I'm balling, and I'm scorching like the sun