
C.O.T.B. Lyrics
- Genre:Hip Hop & Rap
- Year of Release:2023
Lyrics
Small-town boy turned big-city Goon
I revive like I came up right out a tomb
I thank God that I get to see another noon
I thank God that federale boy saw his doom
We hitting that floor, we sweep it WetJet
I'm fucking commas up, Goonie Hendrix
We high on our supply, we got metrics
I just killed that pussy, call forensics
I don't do a thing for aesthetic
I'm just tryna fuck up on a RiRi
If I pop out in the 6, I'm hitting Ring Rings
Like I'm Bruce Springsteen, pulling big strings
She mistook me for mechanic tryna fix things
I hit the chicken spot, 2 tenders & 6 wings
In a Range Rover with like, 6 tings
Feel like the king of pop how I make a bitch sing
We at the Ritz Carlton, come get her back
But I can't promise she ain't coming back
Imma move it 'till my skeleton detached
If my mood is bad he'll end up in an ambulance
Shooter, I can't hesitate or he'll be in a bodybag
The secret's out, the cat's out the bag
The secret's out, the cat's out the bag