O.D. (feat. Titus)

Memba, memba we was broke, remember

Lord forgive me, let nobody test me

I can't hold my temper

I been cold as shoulders frozen over

Know my soul December

Open up that window, I been smoking, gas pedal

To that fucking metal

Memba, memba we was broke, remember

Lord forgive me, let nobody test me

I can't hold my temper

Memba, memba we was broke, remember

Used to track the rental

Open up the magazine, my bitch is center, yeah

Memba, memba, wait, nah

Let me jog it

I just keep them bank notes

Whoa, I don't jot shit

Can't you see this carpet alpaca, ho you blot this

Skirt off in a spaceship

And your bitch in my cockpit

Think I'm going up

I might do too much

Think I'm going up

I might do too much

Think I'm going up

Think I'm going up

Think I'm going up

I might do too much

Whoa, how, whoa, how

Okay, she want the bezzle, yeah

I want the mental, yeah

I'm crash landing

Look at my incidentals, yeah

Hot off the kettle, yeah

High off my level, yeah

Tear drop booty on her

That's so sentimental, yeah

Look at that ice

Look at it yikes

Look at the pink in the Sprite

Look at the sugar

Look at the spice

We could do everything nice

Ain't no showing us, uh

Did we prove too much? Yeah

What's that in my cup? Yeah

Think my proof too much

I think I'm going up

I might do too much

I think I'm going up

I might do too much

I think I'm going up

Think I'm going up

Think I'm going up

I might do too much