Текст песни 2 Grams - WiFiGawd

2 Grams

2 grams of the boof
Bad bitch comin' through
I’m like what it do
I might fuck with you
Bitch I’m state to state
Fuck up out my face
I’m stuck in my ways
I love getting paid
2 grams of the boof
Bad bitch comin' thru
2 grams of the boof
Bad bitch comin' through
2 grams of the boof
Bad bitch comin' through
I’m like what it do
I might fuck with you
Bitch I’m state to state
Fuck up out my face
I’m stuck in my ways
I love gettin' paid
In a foreign coupe, sneaks say Jimmy Choo
Bad bitch she choosy, tryna fuck the crew
All I rock is vintage shit, they can keep the True
RLX’s on my sleeve when I’m slidin' through
2 band shawty bought them bands
2 band shawty got them xans
What you need just hit my jack
You need it bitch, I’m servin' thraxx
2 band shawty bought them bands
2 band shawty got them xans
What you need just hit my jack
You need it bitch, I’m servin' thraxx
Gucci belt, it straight from Saks
Gucci bitch, she blow my swag
Baby girl gone shake that ass
When I’m throwin' out them racks
My steez from 92
I need that fuckin' loot
3M on my shoes
Designer so she choose
Triple five on the side, pull up in that coupe
Hood rich, wet like sushi, wanna give me
Triple five on the side, pull up in that coupe
Hood rich, look like wet like sushi, wanna give me
Like a fuckin' gym class I’m flexin' with my crew
Throwin' money out the roof, smokin' like Snoop
A nigga really got the sauce, Five got the juice
These niggas lackin', I’ll be blackin' in the fuckin' coupe
2 grams of the boof
Bad bitch comin' through
I’m like what it do
I might fuck with you
Bitch I’m state to state
Fuck up out my face
I’m stuck in my ways
I love gettin' paid
2 grams of the boof
Bad bitch comin' through
I’m like what it do
I might fuck with you
Bitch I’m state to state
Fuck up out my face
I’m stuck in my ways
I love gettin' paid
All of my bitches look proper
I do not fuck with the ops
Shawty got hit with the chopper
Mami got hit with the llama
Pussy nigga havin' problems
But all of my niggas is problem
All of my niggas some starters
Dunkin' on shit like Vince Carter
Pussy nigga havin' problems
But all of my niggas is problem
All of my niggas some starters
Dunkin' on shit like Vince Carter
Pussy nigga havin' problems
But all of my niggas is problem
All of my niggas some starters
Dunkin' on shit like Vince Carter
Wait, wait, please don’t hit my line
Bitch, don’t waste my time
Trappin' out the
Light this shit on fire
Come up with that fire
Why you smokin' quiet
Bitch you out of line
Bag it up, bag it up, I’m boutta leave my door
Bag it up, bag it up, yeah, I’m servin' O’s
Bag it up, bag it up, I got hella 'dro
What you really need, you can hit my phone
Need my money, I ain’t frontin', you can hit the door
Louis V, the double G, designer head to toe
Need my money, I ain’t frontin', you can hit the door
Louis V, the double G, designer head to toe
Cast a spell on that bitch, she can never go
She’s got a nigga, but she’ll always be my lil' hoe
She a lil' freak, she say I’m too creep
In the trap, countin' bands, I don’t go to sleep
I was rollin' off them xans for a fuckin' week
Ain’t no lick you can get hit with this fuckin' heat