Rashad Holt - Fomf Lyrics

Baby mama mad tripping cuz I wanna watch my kids
But when I'm busy she gonna trip say I don't watch my kids
This bitch aint shit
I wish she shut up
She barely worth
A bag of chips

She stay finessing
Her bank account stressing
Her pussy dry as shit

I can not believe
I got finessed
She got pregnant
What the f*ck

Threatening me with court
Who she think she stressing

Stay at the mall
But her edges stressing

Her crew know who winning
Now her best friend undressing

They know she foul
So ain't no stressing

Let her hit the backwoods
She damn near dead
I've like me I bet you wishing
Lil nigga run up your bread
Think it's a game f*ck your bitch
Give back the pussy

Calling tripping over digits
Pocket watching
Worried about my check
Tryna get some dick
I'm Celibate
Your bestie pull up
4am
And she surprise me
With special guest

If that pussy clean
She can smoke for free

She cool as shit
Still brought 2 or 3

And a extra friend
She high as can be

My new bitch
Sucking on her nipple ring

And we all on rear d
So we don't say a thing

F*ck out my face
F*ck out my face
F*ck out my face
F*ck out my face

Your friend at my place
Your breath really stank
I beat that case
I'm free today

Calling tripping over digits
Pocket watching
Worried about my check
My kids straight
I don't owe you shit

Guilt tripping
Like I'm a sucker bitch
I'm illiterate
Left me in a parking lot with my demons
To face that shit

Rolled up Lucy diamonds
Call up a clone
Plot on my next lick
You think I'm worried about you

Man this shit is starting to get old
Baby mama tryna get a reaction up out of me
I'm wise to her scheme
Little do she know
Her best friend really into me

Ain't no tweets in the streets
Them snaps is old
I'm too busy getting to this money
Hold the baby over my head
Bitch you lame
You need to go get a new hobby

I'm in that four dour Tesla coup ride through Bellevue
With this Chick mixed with French and rude
Throw the cash
Get her nude
Now I'm over you
Because your pussy loose

You had a chance
But I got shit to do

F*ck your masterplan
The broke nigga
You choose

I'm kicked back your best friend massage me

Bitches share clothes
Go to the club when it's free
Rolling unflavored swisher
They smoke regular weed

Blow up my phone
I'm staging a show
Mad I'm grinding
Running up a fee
You had your chance

Spoken in my name like a joke
Try to make a fool of.me
Now it's stars
In the ceiling
Digital Dash in my Tesla 3

You pissed
You gotta walk home
You can't even get in the backseat

Laying in the bed
Looking at me crazy

I'm not lazy
You better get on your grind

You look sexy
I'm not finna pay you

Time to serve
I'm not finna waste time

Ta50 fare supply it
Stash it somewhere private

IPhone always on silent
Finesse your baby be quiet