Last Minute
Lil Yachty, BlueBucksClan
V12, y'all chose to go fast in it
Tinted up, bet I got somethin' bad in it
(Ten11)
Prada store, I go crazy like I'm mad in it
Yeah, I could have a lot of bitches pull up at the last minute
Hangin' with them lame ass niggas, I can't bear with
I'll stuff four grams in my 'Wood, I don't tear shit
Top of the mountain, big cappin', feel the air hit
Walk up in the bubble, half a million worth of bear bricks
Everywhere I go, bitches askin' who I'm there with
What you mean who I'm with? Bitch, you too nosey
Runnin' 'round the lobby like my brother, first name Cody
Fuck it, runnin' 'round the lobby like Mr. Moseby
Made another Oakland, nigga, I don't even wear Oakleys
Ridin' 'round with a ski mask like my name Stokeley
Niggas tryna get in the game, but you can't coach me
Ridin' 'round on some bad grades like I didn't study
Gotta die alone regardless, I don't need buddies
Niggas used to call me Pig, coat was too muddy
Closin' curtains in the double R, it got too sunny
Let these lil' niggas know what's up like I'm Bugs Bunny
'Lotta blues, and I'm still countin', this that blood money
Told her if she love me, gotta suck it 'til her nose runny
Dropped too many lines in this cup, damn, I'm so clumsy
Said them VVS's, but I doubt it, why they so fuzzy?
Twelve-hundred dollars on my feet, got my toes bloody
I been out cheatin' all day, hey, I'm home, honey
Yeah, she kinda bad, but I told her, "It's the throat for me"
In the A with Yachty, yeah, I told him, "Bring a boat for me"
Got a lot of gas, make a bad bitch roll for me
Thirty-two hundred on a jacket, it got cold for me
Real stepper, I got corns on my top
After tryin' to be faithful, I got bored with these hoes
I ain't gotta buck the gear to the hoes
I won't let her spend a night, how you live with that ho?
I ain't gotta shut the gear to these hoes
Make her leave innocent just as she came in
Everybody love me, they love me just like Raymond
Talk just like a Shaman
Cartiers, not no Ray-Ban's, bitch
Claimin' that they real, but they whole body fake (it's fake)
Walk up to the thickest bitches, let me be your Prada bae (your Prada bae)
You can fuck, you can suck, I can't take you on no date (take you on no date)
All my bitches mad about my other hoes, I need a break (I need a break)
Mike Amiri on my jeans, for my shirt, I went Bape (I went Bape)
Niggas clout chasin' pillow talk to hoes, that shit gay (that shit gay)
YSL, they gon' 'em walk through the back, better not play (better not play)
I'm in Prada, they keep yellin', "Welcome back!" Like I'm Mase (like I'm Mase)
Nigga
Us, bitch
Written by: Deon Hawkins, Fred Adkins Jr., Jaylar Abram, Miles McCollumLyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, EMPIRE PUBLISHINGLyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
Create your own version of your favorite music.
Sing now
