Headless ft. Phloee, Yung Dul & LikPreme Lyrics

Let's go

Kick back

Yeah, yeah

They just be waiting for the get back

Yeah

What you gon' do when we get that?

What you gon' do when we blow up?

Yeah

Take the top off, off the coupe

I'm feeling hella cool

They say I trust too hard

They say that I'm a fool

Yeah

They just been on my nerve lately

Yeah

Baby, I know it get crazy

Yeah

Baby, I know it get crazy

Yeah

Baby, I know it get crazy

Curtains in my car, got stars on my roof

I boss out of space, I be higher than the moon

Bitch, I'm married to the money

I need all my paper blue

Patek fresh to death, I belong in the tomb

Shawty blowing up my line, want me to come through

Baby, I don't got time

Rich shine I'm the youth

Going Gordon Ramsey on the mic, got me whipping in the stew

I'm a culinary artist, so Im the shit with the juice

Young ass nigga, so my hunnid's brand new

Red dot on my Glock, I'ma aim it at you

Pop 3 tabs, now I'm flying through the roof

It's not the weekend, she loving the crew

Bitch from Sweden, she wet like a cruise

In love with the drugs, I swear its my muse

You was not mine, why you acting confused

After I nut, I just throw up the deuce

What

What

Laying real low, but I get out of pocket

Just trying to go, but some demons, they got me

Thinking they winning, like, nigga, please stop

Baby, you got a problem

No, we can just box it

Nah

Boy, that shit is typical

Finna go make a move, I'm over critical

Mix up the game, and they say that I'm pivotal

Feel like a titan, I know I'm invincible

I tag in on sight, and I don't need no order

Heavy and cold, you could call me a boulder

But I spit the heat like I'm way down in Georgia

Snakes in the grass, and I'm seeing them cobras

So I know I'm a grower

Destroy the Beat, and you know the shit over

Aye

Aye

Oh, my god

Yeah

Picture myself out wiping Range Rovers

But, ha, this shit ain't over

Till I'm counting paper, Range Rover , Green Clover

But I be lucky, yeah, I become like, oh

Everybody see my blue jeans

I got them blue shoes with my favorite blue cheese

Yeah, they watch me stack up a 50 ball

They say, like, ooh-wee

I just miss my old hood, but they ask me what I really bleed

Now I reap this cool shit

I just reap this blue money

Oh, shit

I ain't really be with the trends

I'm always rocking with my old shit

Old shit, but new shit

Yeah

New to you, boy

New to you, boy

New to