Lyrics
Pussy-ass nigga (woo)
Maybach with the curtains
And it's perfect like my mama, yeah (slatt)

I just fucked a bitch, she was too fire
I just made a half a million, too fire (ah)
I just poured a four in my soda pop (pop)
I just rolled me up an L, I'm smokin' dead opps
I was sittin' back, seein' shit one way
Had to realize I had two eyes (two eyes)
Niggas be talkin' that gunplay
They pull on the block and it's suicide (suicide)
I hang with the killers and murderers
Don't be a victim of homicide (homicide)
Givenchy, Chanel, we ringin' them bells (yeah)

Murakami on my body, I pop Oxys, not no 'Ollies
King of the Hill, father figure, just like Hank's, word to Bobby
Speak of the hills, I keep me a Tommy
Bitch, I'm a Don, but don't call me Donny
We got them rounds, we shoot at your body
She fuck around, she off of the molly
I just popped a Percocet
Heard you hatin', is it workin' yet? (workin' yet)
I'm so up, you so upset, I'm so up, a homage check
I'm so up, Obama check
Bitch, I blow up, Osama, yeah
Maybach with the curtains
And it's perfect like my mama, yeah (woo, woo, woo)

I just fucked a bitch, she was too fire
I just made a half a million, too fire (ah)
I just poured a four in my soda pop (pop)
I just rolled me up an L, I'm smokin' dead opps
I was sittin' back, seein' shit one way
Had to realize I had two eyes (two eyes)
Niggas be talkin' that gunplay
They pull on the block and it's suicide (suicide)
I hang with the killers and murderers
Don't be a victim of homicide (homicide)
Givenchy, Chanel, we ringin' them bells (yeah)

Dead guy, I'm a red guy
Pull up on the block, shoot you, headshot
Had that bitch take the red eye
Smokin' dope, I got red eyes
I'm high as hell, yeah, high as hell, oh my God
High as hell like God, I'm high as hell like God
I'm up as hell like God, she like, "oh my God"
She wanna blow my cock, tryna hit up the spot
I told her beat up the block, bitch tried to leave her socks
Took a trip overseas, why not? 'Cause, bitch, I'm hot
Bitch, I'm hot (hot), can't believe I'm hot (slatt)

I just fucked the bitch, she was too fire
I just made a half a million, too fire (ah)
I just poured a four in my soda pop (pop)
I just rolled me up an L, I'm smokin' dead opps
I was sittin' back, seein' shit one way
Had to realize I had two eyes (two eyes)
Niggas be talkin' that gunplay
They pull on the block and it's suicide (suicide)
I hang with the killers and murderers
Don't be a victim of homicide (homicide)
Givenchy, Chanel, we ringin' them bells (yeah)

Copyright: BMG Rights Management, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Writer(s): Adrian Rupke, Igor Mamet, Khirye Anthony Tyler, Michael Lamar White




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Too Fly
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