Lyrics
East side with my main Gs where the dames be
Niggas cant touch, I'm too cold get a brain freeze
I was birthed with the gift of gab
Do you blame me?
If the flow was like alcohol, it'd be Baileys
Sip that, tryna break you off like a Kit-Kat,
Grip that
Make your lips smack when you kiss that
You was with a god ma, don't ever forget that
Niggas don't want the drama, that's a mismatch
Outta sight, outta mind, money is the bottom line
I'm looking for a sign like a dotted a line
Suite level rooms at the Ramada,
Im tryna eat, are you niggas still on Ramadan?
Godspeed, I'ma light the J, call me Gatsby
Gladly, never tell the feds where the gats be
I just need the tax free,
shorty coming thru in the taxi
Said she got that shit that'll relax me
Deji Esquire
O/B/O DistroKid