Drip Too Much ft. Lowjack & Dorsey Lyrics

It's Johnny Cane on the beat bitch

Yeah man, This LowJack

Woo, big drip like the faucet running

Don't hit my line if you ain't talkin' money

All that hatin', it was all for nothin

I still fucked your bitch and had her walkin' funny

Had the drip on her, put that dick on her

Shoot my shot, extend the clip on her

Water on my neck and my wrist, homie

Lil' nigga chill, I'm a big homie

Diamonds on me they dancing

Trap spot like a mansion

Count money with a passion

Designer clothes they fancy

Foreign cars, a nigga motivation

Fast life, a nigga impatient

Plug call, but I hate waiting

Married to the game and I ain't playin

I wanna run it up fast, run up that check and it last

I wanna, make love to the cash

Nun but hundreds in the stash

Three fives of the gas

Roll the shit up out the bag

Pull up on the scene, just drip on em

Cartier frames look good on me

So fly, I don't have to drive

Wet flow signs when I'm drippin' by

I been doin' this for a minute

Acrobats nigga, we flippin

Never personal, this business

Fly guy shit, we did it

I'm just tryna see what's the problem

Got my young niggas with me Dorsey and Guala, we drip on these bitches in dolce & gabbana

Yeah

It's like, with this beat it's like, it kinda give me like

Like a gangsta type, gangsta paradise type vibe you know

Like a, like a gangsta paradise type vibe like

Listen to the saxophone you know what I'm saying

Like just the instruments and shit you know what I'm saying RH3 type shit

Yea

Guala

Ooh ooh ooh

Drip on these bitches in dolce & gabanna

Think bout my family I know they got prouder

Gucci on me I got snakes on my collar

Nah that's too much designer

I sit & I dream about driving maybachs

Count cash & I laugh in the back with Lowjack

Diamonds on my wrist think they wanna match

Bitches on my dick since I started to rap

Took off the top I'm allergic to it

My niggas tight like some virgin pussy

I Can't stop rapping I love the music

My boys in the hood yea they love the coolant

Freon, Guala Young Guala these niggas some peons

Wish I could take Brian back like a refund

I run that check up like I'm mf Deon

I know imma make it I put the whole team on

Drip on yo ship like Titanic or some

Them diamonds gone move like they dancing or some

If feds in the spot I won't panic or nun

Yea, nah I won't panic or none

Been rappin' and shit I just do it for fun

They can't keep it real, these little niggas false

I've been through it all, you know imma ball

Say what they want let them little niggas talk

Crumbs want the code to the vault

Drippin' they trippin', they don't know the cost

Think we the same, not cut from your cloth

Blame it on Guala, bitch it ain't my fault

Found you in the grave, your life, it got lost

Can't talk to the cops, my memory lost

Aye Lowjack

Aye Guala

Let me drip on these niggas real quick

Talk my shit man, yea

Saxophone finna make a nigga fall asleep in this bitch

Haha

Dorsey

Dolce & Gabbana, I said it before got designer from head to my toes

They hate too much, cause we drip too much

Fucked around and left puddles on floors

Got LowJack and Guala

And we would put dollars, on your head if you play us like hoes

Niggas know they ain't with it

And no they don't get it

They ain't never been down that road

I had to go get it the fastest route, I finally found it out

Why niggas be broke, staying at mama house and sleepin' on momma couch

They ain't listen to us, now they hear us out

Now you see what I'm talkin' about

I went from nothin' to somethin' now

Now I'm drippin' like tubs in the house

Ooh Yeah, I'm drippin' like tubs

DJ play our shit and we turn up the club

Nigga I'm ballin', don't play for the Cubs

Diamonds so wet yeah we makin' it flood

Fuck nigga reaching, I'm wishin' he would

I don't need no bitch or no nigga, I'm good

Step on they neck with my motherfuckin' foot

Ain't no hoe in me, let's get that understood

Yeah, it's a glacier on my motherfuckin' wrist

Point me to the stool, cause I am the shit

These niggas broke and you know you can't fix

Ain't talkin' LowJack when I say that I'm lit

Yeah, we got Gucci, we rockin' that Prada

I cop some shit, call it mix match designer

Looking for your bitch but no one can find her

We drip on these bitches in Dolce & Gabbana