I like this song, we love you Tecca
"Why you look so mad?" (Ginseng)
"Why you look so mad all the time?"
I like—
Fuck out of my face, nigga
You niggas bitches, leave me the fuck alone
I don't even fuck with y'all, what the fuck you talkin' 'bout?
Tecca
Just woke up, I freestyle, nigga, man, this shit don't stop (Yeah, yeah)
Yeah, rockin' Rick Owens on my bitch, she bad, got a Gucci crop top (Yeah, yeah)
Run up on a nigga, get it lit like BIC if a nigga talkin' hot (Bitch)
I just make new hit today, nigga mad 'cause I'm hot and you not (New hit)
I just pour up a deuce of that cup
Pour up a deuce of that Wock' (That Wock')
And your bitch on my dick, gettin' top
Bitch on my dick, gettin' top (Gettin' top)
Whole time he think he on top
He an addi', he sippin' on drop (On drop)
Man, I know that they don't understand me, whole time and I don't give a fuck (Don't give a fuck)
They like, "Tecca, why you so moody?" Lil' nigga, I'm just in my mood (Why you so mad?)
I don't fuck with you niggas, I'm not quiet, I just don't talk to you (Talk to my bitch)
They say "Tecca, why you look mad?" Lil' nigga, that just be my mood (My mood)
They say "Tecca, why you look mad?" Lil' nigga, that just be my mood
Two bitches on my dick, they arguin', nigga, like Family Feud
They say "Tecca switched up on the gang," lil' nigga, yeah, you know it ain't true (Fuck your gang)
Some niggas, they stole from me
Some niggas, they flopped on me (Punk-ass niggas)
Got your bitch givin' top on me, if a nigga talkin' hot on me (Niggas is bitches)
Man, some niggas try to steal sauce, nigga think I don't peep that shit (Stealin' the sauce)
Man, some niggas try to steal from my house, I peep that shit (Steal from my house)
I peeped that bitch, she move funny, nigga, I peep that shit
And you think that you gotta watch the opps, whole time, you gotta watch your clique (Watch your own gang)
And I see the gang do funny shit, whole time I gotta make that click (On gang)
And I know who was real right that one day I got hit (I got hit)
Man, these niggas think they angelic, I don't even really fuck with you, bitch (Yeah)
Man this shit too easy, freestyling in the mic, really do this shit (Yeah, yeah)
Fucking so many thots, I damn near forgot I knew this bitch (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Man, I just got a check, I ain't even gon' lie, I blew this shit (10K)
Ran down on a opp crib, man, they thought we just moved in (Moved in)
I don't fuck with no thots, I ain't gon' lie, they choosin'
They choosin', you ain't winnin'
I do this, I got your bitch and she fuck with the clique
I don't got no clique, I just gotta die
I stir up the pot, bro sippin' that 'Wock
He can't even walk, I got the gas, no NOS
Gas, no NOS, gas, no NOS
Ay, shout out Ginseng
You know how we fuckin' comin', fuck outta here, nigga
Man, these niggas bitches
compositores: Tyler Justin Sharpe
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