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Suicideboys - Matte Black Lyrics



Suicideboys - Matte Black Lyrics
Official




(You did good, $lick)
(It's a smash)

Wetto, Wetto, Wetto
Wetto, Wetto, Wetto
Wet, wet, wet, wet, wet, wet

I got that Glock in my yoga pants
F*ckin' that bitch in a yoga stance
Swangin' that K with an open stance
Loaded from smokin' that opium
Stain a lil' boy in the clothes he's in
All of my walls, they closing in
51/50, they tryna come get me
Just mindin' my business and moseyin'
Matte black, smokin' packs
Panic attacks, back to back
Xanax on my lap, debatin', should I relapse?
But back to the ho I was talkin' 'bout
I just wanna put it up in her mouth
Pimping up in my blood, what's up, cuz?
Thuggin' that dirty South
Four letters, two numbers, bitch, Grey59
Three fingers in the air, main bitch by my side
$licky pull up in a quarter mil' and slaughter up your daughter
Yung Jesus with them Forgi wheels don't walk, he drive on water
Any time, any place, any hood, any state
Good 'til it f*ckin' ain't, woods to the f*ckin' face
Ridin' with my baby sage, lines on expensive plates
Tears on my diamond chains, stoic never lookin' phased
Poet when I'm spittin' game (game)
Show me how that pussy shaved (shaved)
Dosage climbin' with my shame (shame)
Mama cryin' for my pain (pain)
Will they ever understand? Can I even help my dad?
Money f*ckin' up my fam', givin' until there's nothin' left
Pulling up in that latest (damn)
Choppa stay on me, don't need no hands
Prefer to be lonely, don't need no friends
Ho we just f*ckin', I don't date fans
I'm with my cousin and talkin' plans
Went to my hood and I copped some land
Blowin' through my money like Democrats
Two-step on the IRS, f*ck a tax

Why the f*ck you look to me for help?
There ain't an ace in the cards I was dealt
I'm thirty-one, still don't know how to take care of myself
Honestly, I'm scared that I might melt
Leave behind a bunch of black spots on a white pelt
Maybe in the next life I'll come back as a nice belt, i'on know
There's a fine line between me and you
The biggest difference is I'll snort that shit and probably puke
Dodge and juke all the bullshit y'all try and pull me through
But I'm still shining, baby girl wylin'
Catch me ridin' by with that look in my eyes
Palms start to sweat, by the way I'm grippin' my nine
Yeah, I'm always on my toes but I'm still the same height
Standin' tall over my grave
Make sure it's filled with all the people we supposedly saved
Make sure you throw the plaques in and all the money we made (we made)
I can't put them on my wall, that shit just ain't my taste
It ain't my taste, it ain't my taste
Lil' shawty wanna marry me, I said, "You're better off in debt"
If it didn't work out, baby, I'll be real hard to forget
German whips and private jets, private beaches to access
F*ck on me, baby, I'm still a mess and no, that ain't a threat
I ride for my family, that's Grey59
Try and be all I can be and not waste my time (not waste my time)
On the brink of insanity, I can't make up my mind
Yeah, I battle my vanity and I think I'm blind

Four letters, two numbers, bitch, Grey59
Three fingers in the air
Three fingers in the air
Four letters, two numbers, bitch, Grey59
Three fingers in the air, mane
Three fingers in the air, mane
All about my family, that's Grey59
All about my family, that's Grey59
Try and be all I can be and I waste my ti-ti-ti-time
Try and be all I can be and I waste my time
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.




(You did good, $lick)
(It's a smash)

Wetto, Wetto, Wetto
Wetto, Wetto, Wetto
Wet, wet, wet, wet, wet, wet

I got that Glock in my yoga pants
F*ckin' that bitch in a yoga stance
Swangin' that K with an open stance
Loaded from smokin' that opium
Stain a lil' boy in the clothes he's in
All of my walls, they closing in
51/50, they tryna come get me
Just mindin' my business and moseyin'
Matte black, smokin' packs
Panic attacks, back to back
Xanax on my lap, debatin', should I relapse?
But back to the ho I was talkin' 'bout
I just wanna put it up in her mouth
Pimping up in my blood, what's up, cuz?
Thuggin' that dirty South
Four letters, two numbers, bitch, Grey59
Three fingers in the air, main bitch by my side
$licky pull up in a quarter mil' and slaughter up your daughter
Yung Jesus with them Forgi wheels don't walk, he drive on water
Any time, any place, any hood, any state
Good 'til it f*ckin' ain't, woods to the f*ckin' face
Ridin' with my baby sage, lines on expensive plates
Tears on my diamond chains, stoic never lookin' phased
Poet when I'm spittin' game (game)
Show me how that pussy shaved (shaved)
Dosage climbin' with my shame (shame)
Mama cryin' for my pain (pain)
Will they ever understand? Can I even help my dad?
Money f*ckin' up my fam', givin' until there's nothin' left
Pulling up in that latest (damn)
Choppa stay on me, don't need no hands
Prefer to be lonely, don't need no friends
Ho we just f*ckin', I don't date fans
I'm with my cousin and talkin' plans
Went to my hood and I copped some land
Blowin' through my money like Democrats
Two-step on the IRS, f*ck a tax

Why the f*ck you look to me for help?
There ain't an ace in the cards I was dealt
I'm thirty-one, still don't know how to take care of myself
Honestly, I'm scared that I might melt
Leave behind a bunch of black spots on a white pelt
Maybe in the next life I'll come back as a nice belt, i'on know
There's a fine line between me and you
The biggest difference is I'll snort that shit and probably puke
Dodge and juke all the bullshit y'all try and pull me through
But I'm still shining, baby girl wylin'
Catch me ridin' by with that look in my eyes
Palms start to sweat, by the way I'm grippin' my nine
Yeah, I'm always on my toes but I'm still the same height
Standin' tall over my grave
Make sure it's filled with all the people we supposedly saved
Make sure you throw the plaques in and all the money we made (we made)
I can't put them on my wall, that shit just ain't my taste
It ain't my taste, it ain't my taste
Lil' shawty wanna marry me, I said, "You're better off in debt"
If it didn't work out, baby, I'll be real hard to forget
German whips and private jets, private beaches to access
F*ck on me, baby, I'm still a mess and no, that ain't a threat
I ride for my family, that's Grey59
Try and be all I can be and not waste my time (not waste my time)
On the brink of insanity, I can't make up my mind
Yeah, I battle my vanity and I think I'm blind

Four letters, two numbers, bitch, Grey59
Three fingers in the air
Three fingers in the air
Four letters, two numbers, bitch, Grey59
Three fingers in the air, mane
Three fingers in the air, mane
All about my family, that's Grey59
All about my family, that's Grey59
Try and be all I can be and I waste my ti-ti-ti-time
Try and be all I can be and I waste my time
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Aristos Petrou, Scott Arceneaux
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.

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