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• Artiste: Splurge
• Titre: Basic Bitch!
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Six7 on the beat Yeah, go Haha, yeah, yeah We hit the plug, then we ran off and start jugging We upping Glocks on everybody mugging Tell the plug bring the pints in by the dozens Me and the plug cool, thought we were cousins I see 'em watching, they keeping tabs They tryna see what I got, do the math They don't even know I spent five on some Rafs They don't even know my head high like giraffe Nut in her mouth then I'm kicking her out We pushin' up to see what you talk 'bout Been fucking hoes even before the clout Pints in the fridge, pull 'em out in the drought They think I'm older cause I gave 'em game That bitch got famous, I gave her a name RIP Mom, bitch ain't nothin' lame RIP Jason, he gave me that thang Ride with that shit every day 'cause they want me Think I'ma be bro, continue this bitch, I won't be Stay to myself but I want beef Ain't got money, I don't want beef These niggas bitch, they be talkin' to police Trap out the spot, your ho name on the lease Tired of the 'Vette, finna go get a Jeep Trap out the phone, when it ring it go beep Yah, I roll that motherfucking gas up Bought her the twin thirty, stay spittin' gas up Damn, I'm feeling good 'cause I got it Yeah, I only roll Backwood exotics Double-S-G, I'll die for that shit Try to send a ho, you gon' die with that bitch Keep it a hundred, a rack, I won't switch A rack ain't enough, that ain't even a 'fit Bitch I need ten-ten, big ass watch on my arm like Ben-10 Had a young nigga in bushes, he blend in You supposed to be in a hole for somethin' you been did Boy you gon' die, your door getting kicked in I wasn't there, I was somewhere out of state That was a hotel, she don't know where I stay I ride with the K, niggas know we don't play Spent a bag on the skinnies, nigga, ain't nothing gay I rock the Gucci, tote that Desert Eagle Chop with an eye, like to eat people Niggas be tryna be me, we ain't equal I'ma get head from that bitch and eat seafood Chasin' the bag, never chasin' a ho Talk too much, put the beam to his throat Make sure the lick is a green, it's a go Make sure they got pints of lean and they dough Make sure we there, when nobody knows Twelve gauge, somebody in here, let's blow Nobody move, everybody on the floor Look for everything, make sure we score You know I'm official, gotta play this Ride with the Glock in my city, I hate it Don't get mad at your bitch 'cause she ate it I turned her up, that bitch used to be basic