Five bands and I keep it in a briefcase
Two hands and this body come in first place
Ten xans, I can't even feel my face
Two mans, me and Nighthawk finna take the cake
Cake like a bakery. I don't f*ck with no fakery
When I pull up on an opp, he knows he won't be escaping me
Escaping no strafing me, got no bands he can't take from me
I'm never gonna let a bitch act like they playin me
Bands on, bands on bands, bitch, I gotta learn to share
Hands on, hands on hands, bitch, if you gonna stare
If you want a feature, then you gotta pay a fare
And you don't gotta f*ck with me, cause I don't really care
Nah, bitch, I don't care if you f*ck with me
I'ma pull up to yo bitch house and she just gonna suck on me
Pushing out these songs, will this shit be enough for me?
You is not Ventral, so why is you buffing me?
Nighthawk on the phone, the way I hit the clip
Caucasian boy, looking like Pip
Purple in the cup, Ventral. sip
Popping out the farm, the way Dar-ell leave harm
Slamming on the snooze when I hear the alarm
Throw a whole brick, geeker arm
Clutching on a stick, cadaver farm
Put it in the fridge, big boy, garlic palm (Fat ass)
Crack head Bob finna sob (Type dick)
His niece is finna get robbed
Throw a ball, talking lob
Got three kids without a lock
Feeling like Isabell Gahagan without a cock
Feeling like Julian with a sock
Feeling like bob, smoking rock
Hiding from the cops, who?
Officer Auch
Bitch, you know it's Nighthawk
Bitch, you know we get them bands
Pull up on me, catch some hands
I got several cronies, and they be my fans
Boy was talking silly, got sent to Neverland
Sent away, that bitch was stray
Every moment that he lived for, suddenly would fade to gray
Every hoe that he pulled up on, sent that f*cking bitch away
Every time he thought he had some, pull up on him, make a play
Every bitch he'd fall for was in my bed, going cray
The very next day
Five bands and I keep it in a briefcase
Two hands and this body come in first place
Ten xans, I can't even feel my face
Two mans, me and Nighthawk finna take the cake
Cake like a bakery. I don't f*ck with no fakery
When I pull up on an opp, he knows he won't be escaping me
Escaping no strafing me, got no bands he can't take from me
I'm never gonna let a bitch act like they playin me
Bands on, bands on bands, bitch, I gotta learn to share
Hands on, hands on hands, bitch, if you gonna stare
If you want a feature, then you gotta pay a fare
And you don't gotta f*ck with me, cause I don't really care
Ventral. - B&$ (feat. Nighthawk13A) Lyrics
Ventral. - B&$ (feat. Nighthawk13A) Lyrics
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English
Five bands and I keep it in a briefcase
Two hands and this body come in first place
Ten xans, I can't even feel my face
Two mans, me and Nighthawk finna take the cake
Cake like a bakery. I don't f*ck with no fakery
When I pull up on an opp, he knows he won't be escaping me
Escaping no strafing me, got no bands he can't take from me
I'm never gonna let a bitch act like they playin me
Bands on, bands on bands, bitch, I gotta learn to share
Hands on, hands on hands, bitch, if you gonna stare
If you want a feature, then you gotta pay a fare
And you don't gotta f*ck with me, cause I don't really care
Nah, bitch, I don't care if you f*ck with me
I'ma pull up to yo bitch house and she just gonna suck on me
Pushing out these songs, will this shit be enough for me?
You is not Ventral, so why is you buffing me?
Nighthawk on the phone, the way I hit the clip
Caucasian boy, looking like Pip
Purple in the cup, Ventral. sip
Popping out the farm, the way Dar-ell leave harm
Slamming on the snooze when I hear the alarm
Throw a whole brick, geeker arm
Clutching on a stick, cadaver farm
Put it in the fridge, big boy, garlic palm (Fat ass)
Crack head Bob finna sob (Type dick)
His niece is finna get robbed
Throw a ball, talking lob
Got three kids without a lock
Feeling like Isabell Gahagan without a cock
Feeling like Julian with a sock
Feeling like bob, smoking rock
Hiding from the cops, who?
Officer Auch
Bitch, you know it's Nighthawk
Bitch, you know we get them bands
Pull up on me, catch some hands
I got several cronies, and they be my fans
Boy was talking silly, got sent to Neverland
Sent away, that bitch was stray
Every moment that he lived for, suddenly would fade to gray
Every hoe that he pulled up on, sent that f*cking bitch away
Every time he thought he had some, pull up on him, make a play
Every bitch he'd fall for was in my bed, going cray
The very next day
Five bands and I keep it in a briefcase
Two hands and this body come in first place
Ten xans, I can't even feel my face
Two mans, me and Nighthawk finna take the cake
Cake like a bakery. I don't f*ck with no fakery
When I pull up on an opp, he knows he won't be escaping me
Escaping no strafing me, got no bands he can't take from me
I'm never gonna let a bitch act like they playin me
Bands on, bands on bands, bitch, I gotta learn to share
Hands on, hands on hands, bitch, if you gonna stare
If you want a feature, then you gotta pay a fare
And you don't gotta f*ck with me, cause I don't really care
Two hands and this body come in first place
Ten xans, I can't even feel my face
Two mans, me and Nighthawk finna take the cake
Cake like a bakery. I don't f*ck with no fakery
When I pull up on an opp, he knows he won't be escaping me
Escaping no strafing me, got no bands he can't take from me
I'm never gonna let a bitch act like they playin me
Bands on, bands on bands, bitch, I gotta learn to share
Hands on, hands on hands, bitch, if you gonna stare
If you want a feature, then you gotta pay a fare
And you don't gotta f*ck with me, cause I don't really care
Nah, bitch, I don't care if you f*ck with me
I'ma pull up to yo bitch house and she just gonna suck on me
Pushing out these songs, will this shit be enough for me?
You is not Ventral, so why is you buffing me?
Nighthawk on the phone, the way I hit the clip
Caucasian boy, looking like Pip
Purple in the cup, Ventral. sip
Popping out the farm, the way Dar-ell leave harm
Slamming on the snooze when I hear the alarm
Throw a whole brick, geeker arm
Clutching on a stick, cadaver farm
Put it in the fridge, big boy, garlic palm (Fat ass)
Crack head Bob finna sob (Type dick)
His niece is finna get robbed
Throw a ball, talking lob
Got three kids without a lock
Feeling like Isabell Gahagan without a cock
Feeling like Julian with a sock
Feeling like bob, smoking rock
Hiding from the cops, who?
Officer Auch
Bitch, you know it's Nighthawk
Bitch, you know we get them bands
Pull up on me, catch some hands
I got several cronies, and they be my fans
Boy was talking silly, got sent to Neverland
Sent away, that bitch was stray
Every moment that he lived for, suddenly would fade to gray
Every hoe that he pulled up on, sent that f*cking bitch away
Every time he thought he had some, pull up on him, make a play
Every bitch he'd fall for was in my bed, going cray
The very next day
Five bands and I keep it in a briefcase
Two hands and this body come in first place
Ten xans, I can't even feel my face
Two mans, me and Nighthawk finna take the cake
Cake like a bakery. I don't f*ck with no fakery
When I pull up on an opp, he knows he won't be escaping me
Escaping no strafing me, got no bands he can't take from me
I'm never gonna let a bitch act like they playin me
Bands on, bands on bands, bitch, I gotta learn to share
Hands on, hands on hands, bitch, if you gonna stare
If you want a feature, then you gotta pay a fare
And you don't gotta f*ck with me, cause I don't really care
Writer: Kody Barber, Adrion Monge
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid