Mirror ft. LT Lyrics

I'm finna turn into this nigga belly dancer

I'm finna turn into this nigga belly dancer

I'm finna turn into this nigga belly dancer

I'm finna shake my hips like shakira

Move my hips, he get the big picture

I'm finna turn into this nigga belly dancer

I'm finna turn into this nigga belly dancer

Hips, hips, hips

I'm finna shake my hips like shakira

Hips, hips, hips

When i need me a friend, i just talk to my mirror

I don't give a fuck, like

Middle finger thrown up, like

He tryna come lay pipe, like

I don't finesse on sight, like

I don't pop out for the free

Gotta pay me a fee and that's just how i be, like

If you wanna fight we can fight, like

Might set ya mans up tonight, like

If you wanna fight, we can fight, but don't bring knives to fight

Send you up like a flight, like

Send homies to you for to strike like-

Alright, bro carry a strap like a dike

He wanna fuck me, it's warm and tight

I don't wanna fuck him, he womanly-like

I'm having a threesome with Mike and Ike

Don't play in my face

Bitch, i'll end ya life

I'm finna turn into this nigga belly dancer

HIPS!

I'm finna turn into this nigga belly dancer

HIPS!

I'm finna turn into this nigga belly dancer

HIPS!

I'm finna shake my hips like Shakira

When i need me a friend, i just talk to my mirror

Mob, Mob Gang

Gogo

Go

Go, go, go

You already know this shit ain't nothing man

I was a rookie, i only fuck with tookie

Miserable, all i thought 'bout was some money

Still goofy, all of them act like a doofus

Fuck 'em, pull out the glock, let it do 'em (Graa)

Can't stop what i'm doing

Niggas can't hang for fucking with me (Can't hang)

Niggas can't hang with a G

Can't get a pass for rumors, I'm a put you in a photo

Don't fuck with no hoes

Mob gang!

Stay with a gun,

My lil bruh stay with gas and the guns

This shit is not for fun

All of us gas and our sons

Nigga we already won

Derick, he stay with a gun

Can't fuck with my cousins, Nigga, we all above it

All of the opps gon' be running, Same on a Sunday

Passing for none of the shots, unless they got shot

Killing the man above us

Sending you home, sending you home to the top

Same on a Sunday

Passing for none of the shots, unless they got shot

Killing the man above us

Sending you home, sending you home to the top