CORSA

Uh

Yeah

Won't jump clique to clique

Hit-Boy, but I ain't like you kids

They know what time it is

Peel off, Lambo tires skid

Doin' the most

Imagine you and me close

I'm too ahead

All of that homie shit dead

**** can't call me they friend

Or call me they mans

Or call me they whoadies

Forty below

My heart is still colder

Got it in Corsa, revving the motor

I'm gettin' change, they wanna see me slip through the cracks

Shorty is into me, she let me crash

Two-person party, we havin' a bash

What you think all this Julio for?

She told me, "Go lock up the studio door"

She actin' up like it's the movie awards for real, real, real

You gotta love a discreet freak, that's for real, real, real

****, it's twenty on my receipt, that's for real, real, real

I just left out H. Lorzeno in Maxfield

Tool on me, we still can't build

I be solo on the real

Smoking personals of kill

I kept it 1k, that's how I'ma stay

She wearing Saint, but she not a saint

All ten down, that's how I was raised for all of my days

Won't jump clique to clique

Hit-Boy, but I ain't like you kids

They know what time it is

Peel off, Lambo tires skid

Doin' the most

Imagine you and me close

I'm too ahead

All of that homie shit dead

**** can't call me they friend

Or call me they mans

Or call me they whoadies

Forty below

My heart is still colder

Got it in Corsa, revving the motor

I'm getting change, they wanna see me slip through the cracks

Shorty is into me, she let me crash

Two-person party, we havin' a bash

Don't jump clique to clique

Most these guys is counterfeit

I'm in the hood without a stick

You never know, might see some shit

She love me 'cause I don't cum quick

I'm local but still out the mix

This stripper bitch live by the Ritz

Talkin' slick gon' get you hit

I'm hood rich, but I never trick

She fine, but still I won't commit

Spoiled hoes throwing fits

Want a **** to pay that rent

I ain't like these rappers or these trappers hustlin' backwards

I talk facts, bruh, all you after is the fame and the pussy

That shit wack to us

Uh, I put that on my cousin

I been thuggin', two tires cost like 1,600

My **** died I'm driving home, I'm sick to my stomach

But self-pity won't cut it

I tell 'em, "Up the budget"

Now **** wanna own they masters, y'all all actors

I'm a factor, roll like tractors

Playin' "Ginuwine... The Bachelor"

If I want it, I could have her

And my AMEX say I'm platinum

At the car wash wit' a bad one

Take a pic wit' me, then tag 'em

**** can't call me they friend

Or call me they mans

Or call me they whoadies

Forty below, my heart is still cold

I got it in sport, I'm revving the motor

I'm getting change, they wanna me to slip through the cracks

Baby is into me, she let crash

Two-person party, we havin' a bash

Won't jump clique to clique

Hit-Boy, but I ain't like you kids

They know what time it is

Peel off, Lambo tires skid

Doin' the most

Imagine you and me close

I'm too ahead (I'm too ahead)

All of that homie shit dead