B***h I'm a monster
Smoking gas like a rasta
Can't f**k witchu you imposter
Thousand degrees I'm a shotta
Yeah Yeah
Pops I'm a popper
Popping my sh*t jalapeno
Rolling with all of my migos
Treat my brothers like my sons
We ride into war
Angel wings tatted on my back can't fall for that
Robbed your cousin with no mask you didn't do nun bout that
Got these skinny jeans on and they stuffed to the max
Y.C want racks on racks spend this shit and get it back
I rarely see her face I only hit her from the back
Put that iron against his nose he had ah heart attack
Touch that pot got burnt
Mama told me that
I been out here on the drugs I said I wouldn't do that
Tried to dare to be different
Life won't lighten up
They didn't tell me popping percs make me not give a f*ck
Wild child off a bean
I been powering up
I been rolling for three days b***h roll that gas up
Got to keep the semi tuck
Walking down the street
R.I.P. to Bankroll
Solider rag on me
I'm a ATL-ien its D4L on me
She get down on her knees
I snap like Fabo
I was on Delmar I posted up with Elmo
Now I'm in the seven with these ninety sevens on
Came from picking locks you better have your alarm on
Came from kicking doors we might just creep off in your house
Everybody down
Gimme cash now
Please don't make a sound
Quiet that baby down
I open the oven
Got that brick off out that b***h
Up under the sink
Gimme that I need that stick
Take the what and leave the what
Hell naw I ain't leaving sh*t
I ain't f**king witchu n***as
B***hes you can suck my d**k
I'm a monster smoking rasta
Pops Jason creep with the stick
I'm only f**king with the gang
These n***as Lanng than a b***h
B***h I'm a monster
Smoking gas like a rasta
Can't f**k witchu you imposter
Thousand degrees I'm a shotta
Yeah Yeah
Pops I'm a popper
Popping sh*t my sh*t jalapeno
Rolling with all of my migos
Treat my brothers like my sons
We ride into war
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B***h I'm a monster
Smoking gas like a rasta
Can't f**k witchu you imposter
Thousand degrees I'm a shotta
Yeah Yeah
Pops I'm a popper
Popping my sh*t jalapeno
Rolling with all of my migos
Treat my brothers like my sons
We ride into war
Angel wings tatted on my back can't fall for that
Robbed your cousin with no mask you didn't do nun bout that
Got these skinny jeans on and they stuffed to the max
Y.C want racks on racks spend this shit and get it back
I rarely see her face I only hit her from the back
Put that iron against his nose he had ah heart attack
Touch that pot got burnt
Mama told me that
I been out here on the drugs I said I wouldn't do that
Tried to dare to be different
Life won't lighten up
They didn't tell me popping percs make me not give a f*ck
Wild child off a bean
I been powering up
I been rolling for three days b***h roll that gas up
Got to keep the semi tuck
Walking down the street
R.I.P. to Bankroll
Solider rag on me
I'm a ATL-ien its D4L on me
She get down on her knees
I snap like Fabo
I was on Delmar I posted up with Elmo
Now I'm in the seven with these ninety sevens on
Came from picking locks you better have your alarm on
Came from kicking doors we might just creep off in your house
Everybody down
Gimme cash now
Please don't make a sound
Quiet that baby down
I open the oven
Got that brick off out that b***h
Up under the sink
Gimme that I need that stick
Take the what and leave the what
Hell naw I ain't leaving sh*t
I ain't f**king witchu n***as
B***hes you can suck my d**k
I'm a monster smoking rasta
Pops Jason creep with the stick
I'm only f**king with the gang
These n***as Lanng than a b***h
B***h I'm a monster
Smoking gas like a rasta
Can't f**k witchu you imposter
Thousand degrees I'm a shotta
Yeah Yeah
Pops I'm a popper
Popping sh*t my sh*t jalapeno
Rolling with all of my migos
Treat my brothers like my sons
We ride into war
Smoking gas like a rasta
Can't f**k witchu you imposter
Thousand degrees I'm a shotta
Yeah Yeah
Pops I'm a popper
Popping my sh*t jalapeno
Rolling with all of my migos
Treat my brothers like my sons
We ride into war
Angel wings tatted on my back can't fall for that
Robbed your cousin with no mask you didn't do nun bout that
Got these skinny jeans on and they stuffed to the max
Y.C want racks on racks spend this shit and get it back
I rarely see her face I only hit her from the back
Put that iron against his nose he had ah heart attack
Touch that pot got burnt
Mama told me that
I been out here on the drugs I said I wouldn't do that
Tried to dare to be different
Life won't lighten up
They didn't tell me popping percs make me not give a f*ck
Wild child off a bean
I been powering up
I been rolling for three days b***h roll that gas up
Got to keep the semi tuck
Walking down the street
R.I.P. to Bankroll
Solider rag on me
I'm a ATL-ien its D4L on me
She get down on her knees
I snap like Fabo
I was on Delmar I posted up with Elmo
Now I'm in the seven with these ninety sevens on
Came from picking locks you better have your alarm on
Came from kicking doors we might just creep off in your house
Everybody down
Gimme cash now
Please don't make a sound
Quiet that baby down
I open the oven
Got that brick off out that b***h
Up under the sink
Gimme that I need that stick
Take the what and leave the what
Hell naw I ain't leaving sh*t
I ain't f**king witchu n***as
B***hes you can suck my d**k
I'm a monster smoking rasta
Pops Jason creep with the stick
I'm only f**king with the gang
These n***as Lanng than a b***h
B***h I'm a monster
Smoking gas like a rasta
Can't f**k witchu you imposter
Thousand degrees I'm a shotta
Yeah Yeah
Pops I'm a popper
Popping sh*t my sh*t jalapeno
Rolling with all of my migos
Treat my brothers like my sons
We ride into war
Writer: Quatez Foster
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid