BodyHigh (feat. Jaydes)

Je t’aime, Milanezie

You have no heart

Damn, yeah-yeah, woah

Yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah

I thought you heard ‘bout my ego (Yeah)

I cannot fuck with these people (For real)

**** try copy and paste me (Okay)

But they never gon’ be me though (Yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah)

Got a lil’ Spanish ho on me (Ha-ha)

She getting wet every C-note (Okay)

Get to my bag like it's Cheetos (Oh-woah)

Bitch, she gets slimy like sito

I don't wanna fuck a lil’, I just wanna talk

**** keep talkin’, should lay off the rocks

But if he keep on talkin’, he die in a box

Stop tryna be somethin’ you’re not

**** gon’ stare at the block when it's hot

I don't gotta slide on none of my opps, I just sit lookin’ pretty (Bee)

I’m down in Houston like Whitney

The gas, it got me lil’ dizzy

I'm telling all these **** and bitches, on God (God, on God)

My ****, they never lie, damn, you still doin’ fraud (God, on God)

Look in my pockets, lil’ ****, this shit is a lot (Shit is a lot)

Bad foreign bitch with my song on her playlist

Now she wanna come to the spot (Woah)

I pull up right to that spot

Roll one out when shit get hot

Ain't puttin’ my trust up in no thot

Blow my phone, lil bitch, get blocked

Talk full shit, no Jesse

All I feel when I slime that Chevy, like why you gon’ test me?

I get fried when I’m stressin’

Blow any second, don’t guess me

Oh, he want that toe tag

Brand new thot, she so bad

Put my thoughts up on that note-pad

Bitch, I’m on a roll, yeah

(On a roll, yeah)

(Bitch, I'm on a roll, yeah)

Je t’aime, Milanezie

You have no heart

Damn, yeah-yeah, woah

Yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah

I thought you heard ‘bout my ego (Yeah)

I cannot fuck with these people (For real)

**** try copy and paste me (Okay)

But they never gon’ be me though (Yeah-yeah-yeah-yeah)

Got a lil’ Spanish ho on me (Ha-ha)

She getting wet every C-note (Okay)

Get to my bag like it's Cheetos (Oh-woah)

Bitch, she gets slimy like sito

I don't wanna fuck a lil’, I just wanna talk

**** keep talkin’, should lay off the rocks

But if he keep on talkin’, he die in a box

Stop tryna be somethin’ you’re not

**** gon’ stare at the block when it's hot

I don't gotta slide on none of my opps, I just sit lookin’ pretty (Bee)

I’m down in Houston like Whitney

The gas, it got me lil’ dizzy

I'm telling all these **** and bitches, on God (God, on God)

My ****, they never lie, damn, you still doin’ fraud (God, on God)

Look in my pockets, lil’ ****, this shit is a lot (Shit is a lot)

Bad foreign bitch with my song on her playlist

Now she wanna come to the spot (Woah)