F.I.C.O. Lyrics

Yeah, uh, what I got, what I got, what I got

Bad lil shorty in some tight clothes

Tell her keep it hood, that ain't even no typo

She ask me if I'm getting it, please check my FICO

First I Come Over and then I lay that pipe though

She fucking with the opps so I keep the pipe close yea that's usual

I'm trying to get a bag, I ain't worried bout what you would do

Yeah I rubberband them stacks, wrapped around it like a hula hoop

Homie get up off your ass, yeah that shit is inexcusable

Shorty let me hit on the first night, it might turn to date night

Yeah I'm only eating chicken trying to get my stakes right

Yeah I'm whipping on the road trying to keep my tank right

Maybe I deserve this shit, gotta keep my place tight

And I'm riding around with Semi, huh

Vibin' with family, not friends

This NO LOGO, it ain't Fendi huh know we setting the trends

& the opps is getting dizzy huh spinning and spinning again

What's the drop? I got the bin

All we do is win, bitch