Beach House Lyrics

Ayy, get back, Lamborghini

Temperature 900 degrees, that's 200 on that dash

Hit that weed, I feel a lil' breeze Back in the trap, yeah, I'm countin' up cheese

Tryna get 20 homes on the beach Big Lope Dope the prodigy

I walk in the Neimics, I'm like Prada me, Mix-match designer on me

From the head to the toe to the feet Hittin' my weed, man, my celery

Yeah, my mama, she be proud of me You fuck with the gang, you turn it to history

Got too many racks, I can't wear no skinny jeans

We'll come and light you up like a Christmas tree And I'm just speakin' so damn honestly

You wanna meet death, boy, you're talkin' to him

Your breath hot as hell, boy, you lookin' stupid

Got Amiri on me and your bitch rockin' that two-piece

That I got her last week, I'm really rappin', lil' boy

You weak, I'm smokin' on zaza, I'm smokin' out the peak

Ain't playin' no games with you, lil' boy

Know I got my toolie and I ain't no rookie

I'm the GOAT, the fuck you mean

Been rappin' for a long time, pain in my notepad

Too much paint on my notepad

You a damn lame, can't condone that

Get away, before I up that rod

I just say, fuck it and blow that

Don't make me do that, yeah

Put your grass in a bag and take it away like I was mowin', yeah

The whole gang pull up to your city, boy, we patrollin

Hey, you know that wrist, it's a rollie

So get away before I up and blow it

Got two pints, I'm feelin' my cuppy

I be slidin' on that beat like a hockey puck

Pucker in your lip, I'm up here bucker than a bitch , I'm up here thuggin

In public with it, you know I got my glick

Brick wall, lil' boy, you talkin' that flim-flam

I ain't budgin' for shit, I'm a real rapper, lil' boy

Get on this mic and talk about life

These rappers, they talkin' that bullshit

Yeah, going ghost

Danny Phantom, I'm out this bitch