VOICEMAILS, Pt. 2 Lyrics

Tell me where you at

Tell me where you at

Damn

Tell me where you at

Woah

Woah

You know how this shit get

Two-sixty on the dash of the whip

On the way to your crib thinkin' 'bout what?

What I'm finna do to you

Yeah

Spanish girl call me "papi," that shit got a ring to it

Don't run from me, I beat it up like I'm Inoue

You top five hands down

I'm lyin' baby, you top two and you not two, I gotta hand you your crown

Throw that shit back and it's touchin' the ground, my dawg is holdin' me up

All them niggas talkin' sayin' it's luck

I'm just livin' without givin' a fuck

Not even one

Not even once

You don't want problems with us

This way too much smoke for your lungs

They tryna break into the crib, I gotta go get my guns

Don't worry brother we could run the ones

We could

We could

We could

We could

We could

Some of y'all make me wish a nigga would

Seein' all the things that I'm doin' make you niggas wish you could

You slow ass niggas' moms should've made you read a book

Play this shit like it's Jimmy Cooks

And your girl doing way more than just givin' looks

Yeah, she doin' way more

That shit bomb like a claymore

Walk around with a BBL, what you pay for it?

If you want it girl you gotta pray for it

Yeah

It's Raine she gotta taste for

Give it to you, gotta brace for it

If it's you, I'm goin' straight for it

Girl you already knowin'

Tell me where you goin'

Tell me where you goin'