Cut Enough ft. Jay Sav Lyrics

Ayy, ayy, they gon' fuck it up

My Glock 19, horny, it's tryna bust a nut Catch a nigga slippin', make him strippin'

He gon' give it up I don't give a fuck about a hater, bitch

I live it up Bitch, bitch, yeah, I live it up

You think I'm slippin', run up on me, bet my semi bust

Nigga think he ballin

I just seen him on the Muni bus

Fake-ass chains off Amazon, you ain't foolin' us

Nigga really lame as hell, thinkin' that he cool as fuck

Whole city full of fake niggas, I don't know who to trust

All them niggas movin' iffy, I don't know who to bust

Burger for that bag, hit the stash with some new bucks

Fuck a nigga, bitch, I know he mad, cause she gon' tell it

Snatch a nigga chain, if it's real, then I might sell it

I only beat the pussy up if I cannot smell it

But her girlies up in her guts, so yeah, it's gettin' hectic

Fuck her, get her back, over skeezy hoes, I'm not stressin

But if I put my dick over your bitch pussy, I'm gon' stretch it

Whack her, I been hit, they block her, yeah, I'm too reckless

She keep blowin' up my phone, I won't send her no message

Huh, get your bag right You watch my gram, just like the news, boy

you the bag type I only hit your bitch just to see just what

That ass like Glock with the .30, but I think I want a flashlight

Ayy, ayy, you ain't cut enough All my niggas run me solid, you can't fuck

with us I got the .30 in this bitch, yeah, you know

it's tucked Call your bitch, she came with her best

Friend and they gon' fuck it up Ayy, ayy, they gon' fuck it up

My Glock 19 horny, it's tryna bust a nut

Catch a nigga slip and make him strip

And he gon' give it up

I don't give a fuck about a hater, bitch I live it up

Ayy, I got the flashlight, would've hit her, sister, but I know that bitch the fag type

Bro jump in' the whip, and he got an extra mag right

Fuck the nigga, bitch, now I know that nigga mad right

Hold on, nigga, you ain't cut enough Bounce out on a nigga broad day and make him give it up

In a high speed, no license, tryna run it up

Me and Z3, 580, quick ten & up

Im finna start taxin' niggas, bitch, ten & up

If you ain't talkin' bout no money, don't hit me up

I had to sit down for a minute, now I'm liftin' up

Pigs talkin' bout investigatin', tryna set me up

I don't want the prometh without the codeine

Since the age of 15, I've been a bo-fiend

My bitch don't like it, so she callin' me a dope fiend

I was kickin' off the red, I need some more green