Bitches (feat. Domo Genesis & Hodgy Beats)
Bitch
It's the five-nine taper fade; Sideline Laker game
High time save a page; They already know the name
Doms in this bitch I mean it's real shit taking place
Money still the motive and I'm clocking it like Flava Flav
Let me take my scarf off five-four-three-two-one bitch
Hodgy bout to barf logs, I be spitting fire campin makin s'mores
My flow be tramping like you whores I'm suicidal fuck the door
I'm and if but and or
Bitch what the fuck is you talking bout if you ain't getting no money huh
Broke niggas is talking loud I swear you niggas is funny bruh
We what the fuck is up 2012 clutch as fuck
Fast lifestyle nigga slow me down double cup
Old school visans rhyme ambidextrous
I switch hands five o clock when your bitch lands by six
She will be quicksand better than the next nigga: this man
Pockets swell up like a sick gland killing your whole ambition
Bitch
My hat says high cause that's exactly how I feel bitch
All I need is green grass and gold on my real bitch
Watch me get it nigga I'mma sell it real quick
Hodgy drew the master plan and Domo hit the kill switch
I'm young fellow guy peddle by reppin MellowHigh
Girlfriend never settles why? To busy in the meadows high
Out to Dena I'm fresh like I'm out the cleaners
Hardwood like an angry beaver I'm nuts like my fucking t-shirt
Get it?
A phantom you never hand a random rapper eating cannibal
She can't refuse so I let her drink it like it's Danimals
Handsome dude she wanna be with standing by camera crews
I let her snooze and dream cause none of them wishes tangible
I'm balling like Benjamin it's all about the Benjamins
That's why people acknowledge me and I ain't even friends with them
Call a ho then stall a ho I'm also dope across the rope
Catch my fade I bang grenades and beat your face 'til it's off your throat
Please shut the fuck up let me put this shit to sleep
The shit he speak got him all antsy like his Christmas week
Silly me, riding with several bitches with slim physiques
And I'm tryna see lights cameras action like Mr. Cheeks
Army fatigue Bape boxes for the league
No ghetto barrettes and weaves down to the sleeve for the fees
If packaged she'll be petite know how to roll up my weed
Her doing's doing the deed and she don't really need shit
They asking Domo "where you been?" They feel they got ditched
Just look for the influence I be under that bitch and
It's a headlock when it come to that grip
You ain't never met a motherfucker done in that sick
I'm the best thing yet the I'm the best thing next
I bet I'll mess with presets and jet around all these vets
That don't know how to let go; this game is filled with a bunch of grey hair dead souls
Promise 90 retro, ho
Hey y'all get out of he way cause I'm going AWOL
Bitch lay off the gas that they giving your head tank dog
Thinking that you better than me will get you taked off
You either gotta win or go home, bitch it's the playoffs
More luxurious that a throwback with no low Jack no driver but it got doormats
Zero to sixty in like 4 flat; you know any nigga that own that
I ain't stuntin' I'm a youngin' me and my niggas we be thuggin'
At our shows that we be bugging groupie loving and we buzzing
So meet me in the trap; it's going down
MellowHigh leaning like the jaw of Bobby Brown
Cops arrest me for a DUI prohibition
We don't need you motherfuckers to stop and listen
Golf Wang Bitch
compositores: DOMINIQUE COLE, GERARD LONG, VYRON TURNER
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