Senses

Probably gon' cop a lil’ Lambo', uh
Probably gon' chop off the ceiling, yeah
Baby, tell me how you feelin’, yeah yeah
Probably gon' make me a million, ayy
I ran it up for my children, ayy
You talkin' down, we gon' kill you, oh my God
Yeah, hop in a Bentley, no lease
It ain't rented my bitch in Fenty, goddamn
Fuck what your friends say
You actin' friendly
Hit me when you come to your senses
Yeah, let's go

Amiri too hot like heater
Cut a bitch off, don't need her
Trackhawk movin’ too fast like cheetah
Smokin’ on strong, yeah, smokin' sativa
That’s ya lil' bitch
Best pray I don't meet her
Friend gotta stay bae, this a two-seater
Lame-ass nigga, yeah, that boy a lil' creepеr
Kickin’ shit down, look some like FIFA
Kickin' shit down
Kickin' shit down look some likе Messi
Talkin' 'bout racks, boy, I got plenty
I put on Prada, my bitch got Fendi, yeah
Woah bon appetit, gave your bitch a treat
She eat up the meat
Ridin' with me, slidin' with me
You dyin' with me

Stayin' out with my gang
Don't know new friends, no no
Hop in a Lamb', don't fuck with the Benz
No no no
Need me a milli', I don't fuck with no bag
No no
It's kinda chilly, might fly out to France
Yeah

Go, probably gon' cop a lil' Lambo', uh
Probably gon' chop off the ceiling, yeah
Baby, tell me how you feelin', yeah yeah
Probably gon' make me a million, ayy
I ran it up for my children, ayy
You talkin' down, we gon' kill you, oh my God
Yeah, hop in a Bentley, no lease
It ain't rented my bitch in Fenty, goddamn
Fuck what your friends say
You actin' friendly
Hit me when you come to your senses
Yeah, let's go