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Cmonnn (Hit It One Time) Video (MV)






Lay Bankz - Cmonnn (Hit It One Time) Lyrics
Official




[ Featuring 5Star ]

Ayy, Lay, what you on, Lay?
What you on, bro, what you on?
Ayy, Bree, what you on, Bree?
Shit, nothin', what you on, gang?
Here we go
Hah
Rockstar shit, 5Star shit (Jersey)
Big rockstar

Thinkin' that we broke, lil' boy, you can die that (die that)
Anything you want, we can buy that
New lil' Jag and the Bentley, I'ma cop that (yeah)
With a Cartier on my wrist
Know that I'm lit, they be tryna take a pic
Like come on, man, I'm flashy as shit
New lil' chick and she sassy as shit
And she look bad, so I bag from the rip like
Okay, he want a tip, rock him (bah)
Oh, he wanna lack? Pop him (bah)
Oh, he coppin' out? Block him
Let's go

Oh, he want the smoke? Okay (yeah)
We tell that boy to come get it, yeah
We tryna see if he with it
We tryna see if he with it
Got Lay on the joint, she gon' get it (he know it)
F*ck all these bitches, they trippin' (f*ck 'em)
F*ck all these bitches, they trippin' (f*ck 'em)
F*ck all these bitches, they trippin'
This for my
This for my
Let's go
Walk in the party, I'm sippin' on Pepsi
Wait, nah, I'm sippin' on Fanta
We gettin' lit, we got fans out Atlanta (out the A)
Naw, we got fans out Atlanta

Come on, hit it one time
Ayy, Bree, she callin' my line
Ayy, Lay, you is my slime
Come on, we get caught for a dime
Come on
Shamone
Come on
Yeah, yeah

Chasin' the bag and you chasin' a Rollie
Keep your distance, you niggas don't know me
You cuffin' on thotties, she f*ck with my homie
Did the dash in a new store Johnny
I want a jet black matte Bugatti
I don't really jank, got smoke, that's problem
Met a white girl, think her name was Molly
Get left or get right, put you niggas behind me
This for my dodie, uh
None of you niggas know me, uh
He want a brand new homie
'Cause all of my homies smoked him
Pop your shit, twin
Chasin' a bag, talkin' big shit, yeah
They know the difference
Come around me, keep your distance, yeah

This for my dodie (this for my)
None of you bitches know me, uh
He want a brand new homie (this for my)
'Cause all of my homies smoked him

W-w-w-w-walk it out
We ain't got no rat, we can't talk it out
Fah-fah-fah, slide
Don't run, lil' boy, you can't hide
Oh my God, f*ck with us, you gon' die, uh
It's that time, got an XD and a Glock .45, uh

This for my dodie (this for my)
None of you bitches know me, uh
He want a brand new homie (this for my)
'Cause all of my homies smoked him, uh
This for my
This for my
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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Ayy, Lay, what you on, Lay?
What you on, bro, what you on?
Ayy, Bree, what you on, Bree?
Shit, nothin', what you on, gang?
Here we go
Hah
Rockstar shit, 5Star shit (Jersey)
Big rockstar

Thinkin' that we broke, lil' boy, you can die that (die that)
Anything you want, we can buy that
New lil' Jag and the Bentley, I'ma cop that (yeah)
With a Cartier on my wrist
Know that I'm lit, they be tryna take a pic
Like come on, man, I'm flashy as shit
New lil' chick and she sassy as shit
And she look bad, so I bag from the rip like
Okay, he want a tip, rock him (bah)
Oh, he wanna lack? Pop him (bah)
Oh, he coppin' out? Block him
Let's go

Oh, he want the smoke? Okay (yeah)
We tell that boy to come get it, yeah
We tryna see if he with it
We tryna see if he with it
Got Lay on the joint, she gon' get it (he know it)
F*ck all these bitches, they trippin' (f*ck 'em)
F*ck all these bitches, they trippin' (f*ck 'em)
F*ck all these bitches, they trippin'
This for my
This for my
Let's go
Walk in the party, I'm sippin' on Pepsi
Wait, nah, I'm sippin' on Fanta
We gettin' lit, we got fans out Atlanta (out the A)
Naw, we got fans out Atlanta

Come on, hit it one time
Ayy, Bree, she callin' my line
Ayy, Lay, you is my slime
Come on, we get caught for a dime
Come on
Shamone
Come on
Yeah, yeah

Chasin' the bag and you chasin' a Rollie
Keep your distance, you niggas don't know me
You cuffin' on thotties, she f*ck with my homie
Did the dash in a new store Johnny
I want a jet black matte Bugatti
I don't really jank, got smoke, that's problem
Met a white girl, think her name was Molly
Get left or get right, put you niggas behind me
This for my dodie, uh
None of you niggas know me, uh
He want a brand new homie
'Cause all of my homies smoked him
Pop your shit, twin
Chasin' a bag, talkin' big shit, yeah
They know the difference
Come around me, keep your distance, yeah

This for my dodie (this for my)
None of you bitches know me, uh
He want a brand new homie (this for my)
'Cause all of my homies smoked him

W-w-w-w-walk it out
We ain't got no rat, we can't talk it out
Fah-fah-fah, slide
Don't run, lil' boy, you can't hide
Oh my God, f*ck with us, you gon' die, uh
It's that time, got an XD and a Glock .45, uh

This for my dodie (this for my)
None of you bitches know me, uh
He want a brand new homie (this for my)
'Cause all of my homies smoked him, uh
This for my
This for my
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Jahsan Coles, Layia Watkins, Sybree Williams, Syheem Williams-Rockeymore
Copyright: Lyrics © QUATROSOUNDZ

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