Mr. Johnson ft. Sha Boogie Lyrics

Pear-shaped diamonds, bitches on my Johnson

I got fans in New York City, all the way to Wisconsin

Niggas on that bullshit, but I ain't with the nonsense

Raised inside the trenches I aint really

have no options

Yeah, heart-shaped diamonds, yeah, this bitch the finest

If I said I love you, baby, just know I was lyin

Damn, I got her cryin', she said I'm always lyin

I got hoes from the A, yeah, all the way to Bompton

The pack came in from Compton

pass it like I'm Stockton

This opp pack got me fried, it got me talkin' to my conscience

This bitch think she new, new, off of ATL, she poppin

Yeah, come and get your bitch, she keep on grippin' on my Johnson

I don't spin, I make a block spin, me and money locked in

I won't do no shows if they won't let me in my Glock in

Yeah, high school, late to school, like every day, I'm stackin' profit

Wait, I need an accountant, I'm sick of all this countin

Pair-shaped diamonds, bitches on my Johnson

I got fans in New York City, all the way to Wisconsin

Yeah, heart-shaped diamonds, yeah, this bitch the finest

If I said I love you, baby, just know I was lyin

Yeah, come and get your bitch, she keep on grippin' on my Johnson

Supercalifragilisticexpialidocious

She might be your fan, but she love OG the mostest

Came up with a plan, I got the bag, cause I had motion

Smokin' on that gas, it's in my clothes, because it's potent

Please don't call my phone, because I'm somewhere in the ocean

Makin' movies with some hoes, and I will never post them

Two girls by my side, and they twins just like the Olsens

Can't tell you if I fucked, cause I was too high off the potion

Damn, her pussy wet, wet, uh, she wanna have drunk sex

She said she don't need to smoke, but she fried off of contact

She said she was gon' leave, catch me cheatin', this ain't no contract

Lil' ho, you ain't nothin' special, we just fuckin' ill keep in contact

I'm smokin' out this prime pack, she asked me where my mind at

I told her where her head at, she asked me where the bread at

Please don't play, or get your head tapped

Niggas be rats, they set a fed trap

That boy tried to run, he caught a head tap

Pair-shaped diamonds, bitches on my Johnson

I got fans in New York City, all the way to Wisconsin

Yeah, heart-shaped diamonds, yeah, this bitch the finest

If I said I love you, baby, just know I was lyin

Yeah, come and get your bitch, she keep on grippin' on my Johnson