I aint trickin Lyrics

Switch on the back of the Glock

That's one, that's one, that's one

Yeah, two freaky hoes on the yacht

That's two, three more pints of the wocc

That's three, she lovin' the way that I talk, on me

Shawty, she stay with that mop

She stay with that mop like I stay with my Glock

Brodie be tweakin', he need more Perky's

Ayy, bruh, chill, this all that I got

Wop, I swear that bitch, she a thot

Box, Brodie be punchin' for real

Gang inside this bitch

She think it's my dick, but this an extended clip

Oh, you wanna slide on my crib, lil' bitch

You need a permission slip

Ayy, do your homework, bout

These hoes needin' permission slips

All this ice straight from the pole

This shit feel like a Christmas gift

She wanna spend the night, I know, I'm sorry

I ain't trickin', bitch

I just might pull up to school in a Rari

On some different shit

In my head, got street knowledge

Man, you can't study this, I'm on probation

Call my cousin up, cause I got dirty piss

Ayy, what you want, lil' mama

We'll go to Saks, get some Chanel or buy a Birkin bag

Say, what you want

You a designer fiend or you like cash

And if it really make you happy, I'll buy you an ass

But I ain't trickin' tho

Ayy, this a calm song

You sit back and you chill with it

Go through so much pain, I pour a four

That's how I deal with it

Might take a trip to Bora Bora

Man I feel like Quanny

My father said, if you go out, always bring a Johnny

I'm Mr. Clean with these fists

Just peep the pics

I was in my monogram

When I got booked, I pled the fifth

You niggas broke, so I don't expect for you to know what that is

Designer fiend, I spend like 10 racks

Just on my fit

And no, this ain't a flex

I just ain't never had it as a kid

But now I'm ballin', I got cheese

Might ice out my wrist

As a kid, was tryna get this cheese

Was takin' every risk

I already know these hoes ain't shit

So I don't ever trip

Why would I waste my time with a bitch

When I can chase a check

You think I miss you

Then you dumb

I don't want you back

You left me, so why you mad at me

Cause I'm in my bag

Oh, you say you miss me

And you want me

Womp, womp

I can't waste my time with you

Just stand on all that shit you said

Remember you had left cause I was down

Now I'm in my bag

I'm shit-talkin' on this beat

I'm just spittin' facts

I'm just havin' fun

Why the fuck would I ever leave my crib

If I don't got my gun

Why the fuck would you think you can leave

And I'll just take you back

Bitch, you must be dumb

I like Glock 19s with buttons on them

But this a 21

No holes in my watch, this Cartier

Yeah, this a 41

I'm 18, you trynna beef

Bitch, ain't you 41

Take care of your kids, get off my dick

Go get a job or some

I don't like promotin' violence, nigga

But this a dropper song

Usually like to sit back, drop like 50

Now they get him gone

Mr. Clean with all these miracles

Lil' bitch, I'm 1 of 1

Bitch, had tried replacing me

There's only one, you must be dumb