Bait ft. Sxcrface Lyrics

New tags, I blew all through your city

I got the mask on

Quick to drift the whip it’s a hemi

I get the cash off

I got automatics and semis

I hit the rémy

My bitch need a double

Met her in philly

She into trouble nickname lady Hussle, She don’t hit the breaks

I love the tase

She Put it in my face, that pussy like a lake

Ain’t mean to struggle splashing like a puddle, tryna keep the pase

Made the mistake of loving bitches my heart won’t hesitate, nah

One up em and they done with you (They done with you)

That’s why you can’t let these niggas get to comfortable

Nah they ain’t really with you don’t miss you if you don’t come around

Last time that I checked life was better when ain’t no one around

Bought her self a body want Gucci and new Céline

Whipped the Bentley to hit a double to triple on everything

Outta body that Maserati, Ducati’s come out in spring

And I done lost to many brothers I keep a tech with a beam

I was rolling never sober they was moving on a mission

I had went to toss a bottle they was shooting through the kitchen

It was just like 20 seconds But it felt like 20 minutes

We ain’t get shit on a witness, see with me they act seditious

They gon do it for the fame

Got Smoke like bacon ain’t a soul I trust

And know we patient we gon double up

We know they faking when they wanna rush, aye

They get to shaking at the thought of us

And I ain’t tripping off no bitch now where the hoes at that’s fucking

Double Dutch in that pussy that’s right her WAP done had me jumping

She a freak but she quiet, so when she done she get to sucking

I got 30 in singles know ima blow it if she bust it

Blowing 50s got hoes in different cities

Flew a couple cross the country got on and hit my diddy

I got all them hoes in fendi, I’m the wildest in my city

Don’t care if niggas with me

New Montclair 5050

On the gang

Hickory Dickory dock

Bitch I ran up with the glock

Tryna beef of the internet you get Poppy, poppy, popped

His body gon droppy drop

That bitch she a thotty, thot

Counting up all of the gwap

I told the feens ima shop

They say how you go from gas moving to powder and rocks

Bitch I came up with the quickness I’m in too deep I can’t stop

Stomp him out in new balance, 990 go straight to his top

Counting all this money, bitch I’m running up all of my gwap

We gon bake em like ziti

Swerving a blue Mitsubishi

And all these people wan’ beat me

But that cause they cannot be me

You gotta problem can see me

I rub my glock for a genie

I make a wish just like magic

I bless a swerve so easy

Go and grab the choppas and .40s we war ready

Go and cop a zip and finesse him with four 20s

high free falling, aint talking bout tom petty

Pull up 4 deep we gon hit you with 4 semis

Ion ever lack and I always got drums ready

He be missing when he shooting he can’t hold the gun steady

Get to poppin hear the noise we ain’t shooting no confetti

Had this money on my head so I told him to come get it

I got shot up in my face but I still lived

Throwing up the mils but I’m still winning

If you pull up on me wrong we get to hitting

Them bullets gon fly through your fitted

I was really out there wiping chickens

Bagging up the work and the shipments

He cappin bout the life that he living

He ain’t really posted in the trenches