What I Be On! Lyrics

Whoa

Whoa, oh whoa oh whoa

Whoa, oh whoa oh whoa

Huh, yeah

Yeah, yeah

Yeah, yeah

Huh, yeah

Yeah, yeah

Yeah, yeah

Huh, yeah

Yeah, yeah

Yeah, yeah

Huh, yeah

Yeah, yeah

Huh, yeah

Yeah, yeah

Hop in the AMG, doors go up, this shit look like a butterfly

Racks inside my jeans my shit be looking like it's mummified

I walk right up into Saks, I buy it all, these bitches love the sight

I just 5% the tint, when I come through you cannot see inside

But I cannot fuck with no broke hoe

I'm stacking my money it's too long (whoa)

Yeah, this the type shit I be on (whoa)

Yeah, I cannot fuck with you peons (whoa)

Hit that bitch, she like Oh my God

Blowing my phone like I'm her type

Freaky lil' bitch tryna fuck all night

You think you him, you not that guy

I got my swag, I got my swag, I got my swag up

I'm rocking that Rick, I'm rocking that Rick, I'm rocking that Rick Owens

These bitches mad, these bitches mad, these bitches mad at us

We came in with sticks, we came in with sticks, we came in with sticks on us

Hold up wait (hold up what?), I've got this money of course

Look in my closet, it's full of shit you can't afford

Damn, look at my whip, you know that I'm finna go floor it

And I'm sick of all you trick ass hoes you know this shit was getting boring (okay okay)

Hop in the AMG, doors go up, this shit look like a butterfly

Racks inside my jeans my shit be looking like it's mummified

I walk right up into Saks, I buy it all, these bitches love the sight

I just 5% the tint, when I come through you cannot see inside

But I cannot fuck with no broke hoe

I'm stacking my money it's too long (whoa)

Yeah, this the type shit I be on (whoa)

Yeah, I cannot fuck with you peons (whoa)