F.M.M.U (fuck my mood up) Lyrics

Yeah, woah, woah, yeah, bruh, the headphones just fell

Look, lil' bitty don't waste my time and I don't even need her

It go me, marv and ron we keep three strips like Adidas

We keep 30 shots like I'm Steph Curry, don't fuck with Heat

I'll spit yo' block once spin, again, just to clean it

I'll spit yo' block once den call my girl, cause she ah shooter

I don't never need the Glock, I can always use the ruger

If I catch you talkin' to other dudes, you gon fuck my mood up

You gon fuck my mood up, baby, you just trippin

I got Ice from Johnny Dang, blue and white, bitches it glisten

I can dress from head to toe, for that money, I be hissin

Man, I got yo' girl and I drip her up like water fountain

You ain't slide on nobody, You at home you still poutin

I got a Cartier on my left, got a AP on my right

My cousin tryna diss send him higher than a kite

I'ma go to his funeral, Look at auntie this ain't right

She don't know that I did it, rockin' Louis fitted

I'ma spit in all black, you can't even see in it

Throw the shades in the car, cause you know this bitch is tinted

And that Lambo in my driveway, you know that bitch ain't rented

He a fat boy catch him lackin' at the donut palace

It's a sleepover, I lay his body on the ground like we just made a pallet

40 kickin' in, his hard, this bih got diverse powers

I'm in Florida' with that cuben, I feel like Danny Towers

Yo' girl said I got the sauce, ain't talkin' bout sweet and sour

Ain't talkin' bout sweet and sour, y'all can keep on typin' on the net

But, y'all are still sum cowards

But when you drop the fuckin' low, I spin by every hour

I spin by every day, even drop by some flowers

I'ma drop you some flowers like you is my bitch or sum

You keep typin' on the net, leave you in a ditch or somethin

And you keep typin' on the net, what am I gon' flinch or somethin

Y'all know I'm crazy in the head, say I want me kill somebody oh