Yo bitch on me but you can never do nothing
'Cuz yo momma raised a pussy
Everytime I walk to the drop top, can't help but
Close my eyes 'cuz my whip so glossy
God damn bitch, I don't smoke no gas
I don't pop no Xans hella cake
I just need that ass don't worry bout no mans
Look at me, look at he, you don't wanna f*ck with we
Hit the streets roll on me, you gon' end up in the sea
7:30 wake up skrt up in the lobby then proceed to flee
All my people riding in the back seat on a killing spree
Wait, who that be? ready on the count of 3
Squeeze the G, leave the scene
Bouncin' like the trampoline
Getting bread earn income (man)
Spend it on this Balmain
Working all night I might run into the Bat(man)
I don't see no such thing as a motherf*cking bro mane
You ain't f*cking slick if you think you in my team mane
We gon' pull up on the kids with a flat brim cap and the tats get the brick
And I don't give a f*ck hit em with the damn dicks
Man, hold up, pause, now they red like Santa Claus
I'm a G bet there's something wrong with me
All these mans on the ground, lookin' like the dead ass sea
Yeah, pull up on me, sip a high-t, till I OD
I don't really give a f*ck no more b
Skrrt skrrt onamonapee, bitch Grand Prix
Pull up on a f*ckin' enemy, 3rd degree
(Goddam) now I'mma go right back to the crib (to the crib bitch)
And leave the f*ckin' country with a brick (loudpack)
I'd call the cops on myself if I can, (if I can)
This shit too crazy need the f*ckin' ambulance (ambulance)
Don't wear no jackets, I just wear that metal vest (skrrt skrrt)
Got all this money but these bitches unimpressed (yea, yea, yea)
Getting bread earn income (man)
Spend it on this Balmain
Working all night I might run into the Bat(man)
I don't see no such thing as a motherf*cking bro mane
You ain't f*cking slick if you think you in my team mane
7:30 wake up skrt up in the lobby then proceed to flee
All my people riding in the back seat on a killing spree
Wait, who that be? ready on the count of 3
Squeeze the G, leave the scene
Bouncin' like the trampoline
Yeah
Rich Brian - Who That Be Lyrics
Rich Brian - Who That Be Lyrics
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Yo bitch on me but you can never do nothing
'Cuz yo momma raised a pussy
Everytime I walk to the drop top, can't help but
Close my eyes 'cuz my whip so glossy
God damn bitch, I don't smoke no gas
I don't pop no Xans hella cake
I just need that ass don't worry bout no mans
Look at me, look at he, you don't wanna f*ck with we
Hit the streets roll on me, you gon' end up in the sea
7:30 wake up skrt up in the lobby then proceed to flee
All my people riding in the back seat on a killing spree
Wait, who that be? ready on the count of 3
Squeeze the G, leave the scene
Bouncin' like the trampoline
Getting bread earn income (man)
Spend it on this Balmain
Working all night I might run into the Bat(man)
I don't see no such thing as a motherf*cking bro mane
You ain't f*cking slick if you think you in my team mane
We gon' pull up on the kids with a flat brim cap and the tats get the brick
And I don't give a f*ck hit em with the damn dicks
Man, hold up, pause, now they red like Santa Claus
I'm a G bet there's something wrong with me
All these mans on the ground, lookin' like the dead ass sea
Yeah, pull up on me, sip a high-t, till I OD
I don't really give a f*ck no more b
Skrrt skrrt onamonapee, bitch Grand Prix
Pull up on a f*ckin' enemy, 3rd degree
(Goddam) now I'mma go right back to the crib (to the crib bitch)
And leave the f*ckin' country with a brick (loudpack)
I'd call the cops on myself if I can, (if I can)
This shit too crazy need the f*ckin' ambulance (ambulance)
Don't wear no jackets, I just wear that metal vest (skrrt skrrt)
Got all this money but these bitches unimpressed (yea, yea, yea)
Getting bread earn income (man)
Spend it on this Balmain
Working all night I might run into the Bat(man)
I don't see no such thing as a motherf*cking bro mane
You ain't f*cking slick if you think you in my team mane
7:30 wake up skrt up in the lobby then proceed to flee
All my people riding in the back seat on a killing spree
Wait, who that be? ready on the count of 3
Squeeze the G, leave the scene
Bouncin' like the trampoline
Yeah
'Cuz yo momma raised a pussy
Everytime I walk to the drop top, can't help but
Close my eyes 'cuz my whip so glossy
God damn bitch, I don't smoke no gas
I don't pop no Xans hella cake
I just need that ass don't worry bout no mans
Look at me, look at he, you don't wanna f*ck with we
Hit the streets roll on me, you gon' end up in the sea
7:30 wake up skrt up in the lobby then proceed to flee
All my people riding in the back seat on a killing spree
Wait, who that be? ready on the count of 3
Squeeze the G, leave the scene
Bouncin' like the trampoline
Getting bread earn income (man)
Spend it on this Balmain
Working all night I might run into the Bat(man)
I don't see no such thing as a motherf*cking bro mane
You ain't f*cking slick if you think you in my team mane
We gon' pull up on the kids with a flat brim cap and the tats get the brick
And I don't give a f*ck hit em with the damn dicks
Man, hold up, pause, now they red like Santa Claus
I'm a G bet there's something wrong with me
All these mans on the ground, lookin' like the dead ass sea
Yeah, pull up on me, sip a high-t, till I OD
I don't really give a f*ck no more b
Skrrt skrrt onamonapee, bitch Grand Prix
Pull up on a f*ckin' enemy, 3rd degree
(Goddam) now I'mma go right back to the crib (to the crib bitch)
And leave the f*ckin' country with a brick (loudpack)
I'd call the cops on myself if I can, (if I can)
This shit too crazy need the f*ckin' ambulance (ambulance)
Don't wear no jackets, I just wear that metal vest (skrrt skrrt)
Got all this money but these bitches unimpressed (yea, yea, yea)
Getting bread earn income (man)
Spend it on this Balmain
Working all night I might run into the Bat(man)
I don't see no such thing as a motherf*cking bro mane
You ain't f*cking slick if you think you in my team mane
7:30 wake up skrt up in the lobby then proceed to flee
All my people riding in the back seat on a killing spree
Wait, who that be? ready on the count of 3
Squeeze the G, leave the scene
Bouncin' like the trampoline
Yeah
Writer: Brian Soewarno, Ricky Triwahyudi Surya Tjong
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.