Courtside Lyrics

She don't wanna go home she wanna stay with me

Ima hot boy like 500 degrees

I spent like 500 on these jeans

Addicted to money baby I'm a fein

I show a ho some shit she never seen

She say that dick her favorite cuisine

Pass me the rock I'm coming off the screen

Wake up, get fly, yeah that's my routine

You wanna learn baby I can teach ya

You say you hungry baby lemme feed ya

You want some indica or some sativa?

When you walk in, get naked, that's procedure

Bitch I stay hot, I always got a fever

Take a guess on what I spent on these sneakers

She suck the balls too this bitch a keeper

I put her courtside from the bleachers

Yeah

We gettin' high, soon as we done she wanna roll another

We gettin' fly, me and her both got on some undercover

You must wanna die, my boy keep that stick on him like he a drummer

I can't even lie, she suck it so good I told this bitch I love her

I can't even lie, she suck it so good I can't let her go

I can't even lie, a minute ago I did fuck yo ho

I can't even lie, I peeped that you niggas did steal my flow

I can't even lie, I peeped that you niggas all be some hoes

Yeah I peeped you niggas wanna be me

You ain't peep yo ho was tryna freak me

She got all the BMO songs on repeat

Got the music vid all on her TV

Keep some green on me like I'm Luigi

I got more gas than a BP

Bitch I'm the final boss and you can't beat me

Givenchy on me, Riccardo Tisci

Yeah, I can tell you niggas what I got on but y'all still can't find it

Baby bring me back a couple cards, yeah that's yo assignment

Balenciaga hoodie so big it cover up the diamonds

She ain't wanna fuck until I put the rollie on, that's perfect timing

Yeah

When she seen the racks, It's like the legs open automatic

Yeah

Like 200 onna dash, I ain't never stuck in traffic

Yeah

I got bad bitches lining up for me like it's a pageant

Yeah

They gone come back in five years and say that this a classic

Yeah

When I seen that shit up on the runway said"I gotta have it"

Yeah

She got that ass that poke out on it's own, I can't help but grab it

Yeah

You ain't put in for the gas, so don't expect for me to pass it

Yeah

I make the racks disappear and come back like I know magic

You niggas can't fuck with me man

Stop fucking playing bro

You niggas ain't

You niggas ain't nowhere on my fucking level bro

I promise you

You can't swag like me

You can't get the cash like me

You can't get to the bag like me

Stop fucking playing bro

BMO