FNGSM Lyrics

Bitch geeked off a half p play she ain't never seen no real pape

Perky bottle say don't mix it with the liquor but I feel safe

That fake ass wokhardt bottle that ain't real drank

Know some niggas that could never make a band and they still can't

Tell a fuck nigga get some motion

I got used to the money I get racks and don't post it

I was wondering why that shit wasn't hitting it's the wrong bin

Bitch you vic high you ain't perk high that's the wrong ten

I ain't never wanna hoop I looked up to the dope man

If you fucked up I'll get you on your feet I'm the bow man

Threw Micah a bow he fucked it up chasing hoes damn

How the fuck it's been a whole year and you still owe bands

Out here looking for a dad you a grown man

I don't owe a nigga shit I'm my own man

Guess a nigga couldn't get the bag it's okay lil' poor ass nigga

These phones scan

Bout to make love to a pint of Trish play a slow jam

All trap money off dior I wear my own brand

Niggas getting pistol whipped bout a spank of bud you a whole ham

Couldn't be me bitch I'm riding around fully and it won't jam

Shit at this point get a application

How you ain't have the hammer on you thought your ass was maintenance

I would of pulled up got the clapping at that nigga like congratulations

Kept spinning til his shit boarded up and the trap look vacant

But I'm getting off topic I ain't have to say it

I could tear the drink off the look I ain't have to taste it

Fit crazy how I get the fear of God to match the Maisons

Dior shoes off Savage kicks match the fragrance

G g hold the FN looking like I'm playing scrabble

Have a opp bitch freak em then we smoke him like tobacco

Twin busting scripts again now I got the lean back like fat joe

Bitch I slap bows what the fuck you in the trap for

Three iPhones they all cracked though

But they all got service and they slap hoe

And I heard them young rap niggas tryna back door

Burn his alive corner can't tell what he had on

Nigga when these niggas get in the booth they put a cap on

It be all off the top bout my life so I don't rap long

Nigga ayy

And my mama and my baby mama call me on my trap phone

Bitch geeked off a half p play she ain't never seen no real pape

Perky bottle say don't mix it with the liquor but I feel safe

That fake ass wokhardt bottle that ain't real drank

Know some niggas that could never make a band and they still can't

Tell a fuck nigga get some motion

Spent me and tray profit on a bitch and she hoeing

You a hobosexual but you think I ain't notice

Scared to argue with a bitch cause you don't wanna be homeless

Me and Trey pop it on a bitch and she ho

He a homosexual, but he think I ain't notice

Scared to argue with that bitch, she don't wanna be homeless

Nigga and that pape you owe me

Nigga you can keep that shit nigga

I'm more disappointed in the nigga that I ain't mad

You feel me You fumble the bag it happen

But you never bounce back and then you just on some ho ass shit