Slatt - Slap. Lyrics

Bitch it's on
Hit-Boy
I make it look easy in these on
I make it look easy in
I got all this green like I'm a Sargent
I got all this green like I was farming
She call me the army leader, Sargent

Yeah, yeah, uh
I got all this green like I was what? Uh

I got all this green like I was farming (Uh)
I'm the army leader I'm the Sargent (Uh)
I need yellow bones on that Mars shit (Uh)
I'm not from this planet I'm a martian (Uh)
I ain't getting drunk but I got bars, yeah (Uh)
Servin' rounds like you at a bar, yeah (Uh)
My gun sing I feel like Barbra Streisand (Uh)
Cowboy this revolver in my left hand (Uh)
Married to this money (Uh)
Holy matrimony (Uh)
He think that he real (Uh)
Your boyfriend a phony (Uh)
Turn his face to pizza choppa make him pepperoni (Uh)
I'm the type to pull up then I flex my f*cking Rollie (Uh)
AP on my wrist but it get deeper
I go back to school just to shit and then f*ck on the bad teachers
Give a f*ck about you prolly getting head behind the god damn bleachers
You don't f*ck with me that's cool 'cause I don't f*ck with me either
I'm hot just caught a fever she scream "Oh baby" just like Justin Bieber
I pull up on the scene bring the house down like I'm Queen Latifah
You could try me if you want you will get smoke like Wiz no Khalifa
And I don't even smoke reefer, nigga I don't even smoke reefer
Yeah, but keep them Percs coming
If I go broke back to the trap just keep that work coming
I'm praying every day but I don't go to church for nothing
You know that the pastor be fronting, he think he be talkin' 'bout some-
That nigga probably f*cking your mommy (Huh, huh, huh)
If I'm being honest (Huh, yeah), shit I ain't just talking
Nigga I don't talk it I walk it
And I don't do shit without offers
I told you my nigga I'm awfully awesome
I probably got Powers like Austin
Pull up to your apartment I leave a bomb like the marathon running in Boston
Look what I did, baby, see it
She hold up my kid, Home Alone
I'm in your crib, but this ain't two people chasing a white kid
Glizzy on me
I get busy I get jiggy I get jiggy on it
I can't hear, what you saying, why you goin' Iggy on me?
I can't hear, what you saying, why you goin' Iggy on me? (Yeah, yeah)
Pockets, bands, choppa from Afghanistan
50 Cent said it best
Many men wishing death
And I don't got time for it, I just got Tom Ford
I don't even got change for these hoes you can have a dime boy
I feel like Kobe in the fourth I ain't passing no dimes boy
I'm 'bout mine with the gun it sing like it's Cece Winans boy
Listen to how I spaz on they ass, leave 'em leaking like maxi pad
Its me and Max Lord in the studio counting up all these racks
I used to f*ck with the Xans, now it's Percs in my hand
I used to f*ck with the work and now I got no work in my hand
Nigga you know where we stand
Boy your bitch is a stan
If I fall in love then I'm gon' turn into Stan
If she leave me I'm driving off of that bridge
Keep that I'ma do one more take