Lyrics
[Verse 1]
I ain't fuckin' with no thot box
Make him eat it in the drop-top (Skrrt!)
Think she ill, but she not hot
Racks comin' in non-stop
Big rocks on that crop-top
I took it big to the shop-shop
He ain't fuckin' with no thot box
I'm gettin' topped in a drop-top
[Verse 2]
She high class, Henny in her wine glass
Closet full of shoes and design bags
She got a name, but everybody call her fine ass
With that fine ass
Ain't even gotta see her top half
Foreign and a foreign, she a mixed breed
Hips on parentheses
If she drive stick, it's a six-speed (Skrrt!)
Yellow in the inside, Swiss cheese
Vroom-vroom, and that poom-poom on pooh-pooh
She got that wet-wet, we gon' have the best sex
I'ma kill the kitty, that's a death threat
So you can say we fuckin' on her deathbed
[Verse 3]
Wack bitch called and said she want her boo back
Send that **** home, pussy juice on his durag
I ain't gotta suck dick for no verse
If I put money on your head, then put money in my purse, bitch!
**** slid in my DM with the blue check
Only want them blue racks, ****, you can keep that
Make the **** go down, tell him eat that
Had the **** singin' to my pussy like Keith Sweat
This ain't no motherfuckin' thot box
Pussy had a **** sweatin' like a hot box
He be searchin' for that pussy like wifi
Rich ****, eight figure, that's my type
[Verse 4]
He thought he was catfished, I look better off of IG
Let him slurp out the box like a Hi-C
I'm with my bloods and that pump like a IV
Full course meal, your main **** my side piece
Play with me, you off more than just pot smoke
**** thinkin' he a player, he a thot though
Shorty rent late, but flying out to Cabo
I'm just sayin', you gotta watch hoes!
Got ten-star credit, my pictures don't need no editin'
That work still sellin'
My pussy, ain't no comparison
He hit it once, **** thought I sold crack
When he hit it doggystyle, grab his balls from the back, yeah
Three G's and a blunt for the hot spot
If it ain't head, leave it read, that's a cock block
Yeah, now this thot want a shot
'Fore I even get to pour up
She suckin' out the top
[Verse 5]
You don't eat it, you don't beat it, I say that 'cause I mean it
Treat the pussy like the paper, don't let nothin' come between it
Call my box Medusa, you get hard when you see it
I might put it on the app, you gotta download and stream it
Wanna beat it, wanna skeet it, spend a rack
I told him throw them hunnids if you want me throw it back
I get face in the Phantom and get brains in the back
He say he don't be on head, but we all know he cap
Now back to the track, I'm rollin' in my drop-top
And my titties sittin' pretty in my crop-top
**** say he tryna get up in that thot box
But you be fuckin' anything that walks, you got thot cock
[Verse 6]
I ain't fuckin' with no thot box
Make him eat it in the drop-top (Skrrt!)
Think she ill, but she not hot
Racks comin' in nonstop
Big rocks on that crop-top
I took it big to the shop-shop
He ain't fuckin' with no thot box
I'm gettin' topped in a drop-top
Written by: Artist Dubose, Christian Ward, Gary Evan Fountaine, Jae London, Michael Stevenson, Robert Williams, Tauheed Epps