Bleachers Lyrics

9th grade I'm in the bleachers, first car was a Kia

Now I'm charging for the features, and now it's like fuck all my teachers

Yea I'm Smokin on that reefer, I feel like a little Khalifa

My brother whipping in the beamer, I pour up a pint in the liter

Yea, I'm flexing these bands wit ya bitch, poppin these xannies and shit

I don't give a shit, I might throw a rack at ya bitch, then hop in the whip

And beat up the clit, then pass the bitch off to the clique, I'm done wit that shit

My mind on the money I'm hitting these licks, I burn through the zip

And don't even trip, I make a few racks when I cut up the brick

I throw the ones with these hoes, never make time in advance for these hoes

I'm cool with the bros, I stay on my toes, I'm never gon fold

I keep it a hundred I'm chasing the roll

Dab on em with the Rollie, no cheap hoes need freak hoes

I stayed down that's G code, you disappear like Nemo

My bitch white like kilos, ain't Drizzy Drake no free smoke

I'm charging yo ass for the pack

The only people getting benefits was the people who helped put the Ville on the map

Everybody talking trap trap trap trap, but no one really even trap trap like that

Oh yea, nobody had my back, fuck it I do it myself

You can tell by the chains an the belts that I got it myself, I ain't had no wealth

I got these bands by myself, I did this shit with no help

I was out serving them bells, and breakin down shells

Fuck 12 I never tell, you can throw me in the cell, woah woah

Smash on ya bitch, pass her to Brodie, I'm off the shit, pouring the Codeine

Ya bitch on my dick and she thottin for free

What you gon do when she mobbin for me

What you gon do when she get on her knees

How you gon feel when she suckin a g

How you gon feel when she passed through the team

How you gon feel when she passed through the team

9th grade I'm in the bleachers, first car was a Kia

Now I'm charging for the features, and now it's like fuck all my teachers

Yea I'm Smokin on that reefer, I feel like a little Khalifa

My brother whipping in the beamer, I pour up a pint in the liter

9th grade I'm in the bleachers, first car was a Kia

Now I'm charging for the features, and now it's like fuck all my teachers

Yea I'm Smokin on that reefer, I feel like a little Khalifa

My brother whipping in the beamer, I pour up a pint in the liter

How you gon feel, gon feel, when she down to fuck with a G

She rollin, she rollin, she rollin, she rollin, she rollin with me

Ain't given her back, I ain't given her back, and she done fuck all of the Gs

And even at that, I had to doubt that, that she catching all the diseases

Cuz you can not roll it with me, oh no

Made it from the bottom now we gettin it

Everyday's a holiday we staying lit

Yo bitch is my present fuck her when she strip

Her motions with my hands like on some Disney shit

I'm getting it, I'm getting by, my team they ride do homicide

Ya bitch has got this lit disguise, I''m lit lit on the Percocet

I cannot die, no suicide, I gets gets so lit lit

Im big bitch I'm on fire I burned out that back tire aw yea