Ells, seven, squells
Squell bells, what the fuck?
Break that bitch purse, man
She see me grabbing on my tulip
She told me smack on her booty
She say I got too many hoes
She say I got too many shows
She workin', she twerkin'
I'm pimpin', you simpin'
I'm pimping like I'm [?]
Your'e simping like you should
My face all on my poster
Counting, gripping, gripping wood
Under surveillance, police need a bigger lense 'cause
I bought another rollie, and a bigger Benz
Bitches fuck with me, they know
They gotta break their purse
She choosin' with the best
'Cause she's stressing with the worst
Your'e fucking with the trill
The other niggas just prototypes
Don Logan, [?] might, I don't even hold a mic
Lame-ass niggas singing songs for these dicksuckers
Same song she playing
While she let another trick fuck her
Time equals money, so ho ya better cock it
Bitch better suck it in my pocket like a rocket
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