112718 ft. Tsuni & Mr. Studio Lyrics

I throw that cash on her back cause that ass fat

You just throwin' cash cause your bitch drive a hatchback

We sippin' wine at the dinin' table While I'm hitting the pine I know that my mind is able to create rhymes for the finest labels

In the basement covered with pavement is where I made shit

Every night I'm getting wasted Couple J's to the face got my brain split

Wakin' up with a bitch I ain't met yet Baking up with a bitch I ain't met yet

I call an Uber that's the best bet Cause no bitches in the house equals less stress

And I'm all about less stress

I hit the gando like it was Rambo and all of a sudden I'm stressed less

Just when she thinkin' she done I put that ass through a stress test

Workin'

I watch you workin' while I'm burnin'

Twerkin'

I watch you twerkin' while you workin'

I think they heard of me

Cause my house came with security

They never worried about it

They never worried about me

Ima live it to a hundred

Keep stuntin' while I'm runnin'

She a bad bitch runnin'

But I'm a bad boy huntin'

Yeah

I'm thinkin' time to meet

She wanna ride with me, while we ride the beat

Tellin' me I'm a G

Callin' my phone up

She wanna come over

Yeah, she wanna come over hey

Ridin' a wave so goddamn big

All of my friends stay around me cause I'm that lit

All the bitches keep comin' it ain't even summer yet

Ima get you where I want you

Cause I know that you want me to give it

Keep sendin' me pictures when I'm gone

I'ma be home in a minute so we can get it goin'

We in the zone

You and me, make a team

Couldn't ask for a better ass thing

Ain't nothing better

That ass is so sick it be under the weather

My flow is the shit

She ridin' me cause I deserved all of this

Chain drippin' like you took a sniff

Yellow gold, I just took a piss

I'm not a sweet lick

Charles Bronson, you must got a death wish

I see you tryin' to tip them scales

We gon' wear the feather with the fish

Forty weigh two pounds

But it's heavy with the clip

I'm like Pharrell with the clips

I grind harder than a bitch, its

Plenty more you can get, if

You take more of a risk

Life's worth more than a brick, she a queen

She more than a bitch

All dogs go to heaven

We can play fetch with the stick

I swear that I'm lit

Lit like a wick

Your girl keep callin' me

I ain't even tell her to pick

She want the house with the fence

Blew out her back, it was tence

She mumblin' not makin' no sense

Her legs keep on shaking again

Indy's Favorite Sons Radio Network you know what's happenin'

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