(Intro)

Yeah
I rap about shit I know about
Fly forreal
Baby
I like ya pants

(Verse)

Ass like Keisha lance I got to the bottom of it
What's up beloved I kissed her in the stomach
Nothing indicative no symbolism
I'm slipping off my dickies putting down this ism
Optimism she praying that we get hitched
Playing with her nose like bewitched
Not quite bridal it'd be suicidal
Bereavement she public domain without the easement
Percocets gone where the trees went
Percolating like it never mean shit
Eyes without a face Billy Idol
On Tidal she said Willie really feels entitled
Toxic poisonous like a hamhock
A pad lock for the Ad hoc my shamrock shake
Popped the Motu at Hancock
No cock blocking pop at ya girl I bet
She wit it only fuck outta town niggas it sound more elite
Geo-tagging her post she still belong to the streets
But I ain't tell her that tho
Free game but I ain't sell her that though

Yo, free game but I ain't sell her that though

(Verse 2)

Reputation costs a lifetime
Who wants to be a millionaire the lifeline
White wine when it's night time the skyline
Catch a flight covid price on Priceline
Priceless she moved away to the A adviceless
Start a new life a real estate license
A clean slate you still looking great
Know how to make check stubs and cook a steak
Breaking up with ya baby father he cheated major
You got a new man you just met at Tanger
Could've worked it out I understand the anger
But now you getting cheated on by stranger
Man, I ain't tell her that though
Free game I ain't sell her that tho
I be rapping what I know about
Restaurants pretty women with they toes out
Cribs down south Trips over seas
LLCs from 2003
But I ain't tell her that though
Free game I ain't sell her that though

(Outro)

TCP
V12
Yeah
Dirty Game
Filthy

Copyright: Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group
Writer(s): Mack Loggins, Willie Jackson