Featured In

Lyrics

[Verse 1]
(That Firm shit, that Firm shit, what's that?)
(That Firm shit, that Firm shit)
[Verse 2]
Everyday I'ma polli-bout, who's the best hottie out?
And will they ever lay Gotti out?
Am I real? Feel free to try me out
Guaranteed eternally, you signin' out
I only bang quarters, not a thing shorter
Than a dime, rhyme like a crime scene reporter
Thought shorty would lose but the game taught her
Hoodrat just like Thelma, James daughter
Killer put you on, got you laced in Bucon
Bledest stone, where the place you call home?
[Verse 3]
Brooklyn girl, plotted then I took the world
You know the whole drill, Na Na so ill
Make mills and escro, decimals
Cancun, Mexico X and O
Bracelets got all, along with gold
Now it's platinum rings, songs is sold
Hot from the jumpstart, let the guns spark
Thriller, will I shot to the top of the charts
[Verse 4]
Head honcho, cat Esco
Push everything from the Coupe to the Fo'
Never love a ho, get my dick sucked
Smoke the chocolate, trick my chicks up
Pass all the ki's to mami, whip it up
Fox get the Bs, Bonnie live it up
[Verse 5]
You're love, so good
You deserve some hardcore
(That Firm shit, that Firm shit)
[Verse 6]
You're love, so good
You deserve some hardcore
(That Firm shit, that Firm shit)
[Verse 7]
Firm, **** what?
Get my twat licked, never love a trick, get him for his chips
Fuck him and his dick, **** where the six?
He actin' like a bitch, he should've known this
Got the stone the wrist, I ain't no bonin' this
The Bomb-ass shit, I could play with my shit
[Verse 8]
Rap ****, capitalize stack figures
Cognac is that liquor
Got me all numbed out, now I'm in the street with the guns out
**** better take me home, 'fore I dumbs out
Might fuck around, lay somethin' down
With mad **** out here to see that shit
We that clique, runnin' shit up in New Yick
All the way down to Hicktown, layin' it down
[Verse 9]
Foxy be the classiest, the sassiest
The clubs, all thugs grab my wrists, offer me Rosé Crist
More of the shit to hold you with
Keep hatin' I'ma fold your bitch
Should've known to control that chick, hoes mad 'cause I rolled the 6
Doe full of ices, black Isis
Sidewalk, my **** stay fuckin' your girl
The rest be hoes in stretch jeans with red seams
Take it from me, let a **** dream
Make 'em lick that, get the cat for his cream
[Verse 10]
You're love, so good
You deserve some hardcore
(That Firm shit, that Firm shit)
[Verse 11]
You're love, so good
You deserve some hardcore
(That Firm shit, that Firm shit)
[Verse 12]
It's about time I reverse that
Bitches learn game, rehearse that
It ain't no love, ma, remember that
Ya hoes wanna slap while I got him on his back, tryna hurt that
[Verse 13]
Think you've grown, have the **** sittin' at home
Watchin' the kids, while you're gettin' it on
I'm too smart for that, caught you creepin'
Receipts in your Prada bag, suites every weekend
Spendin' my dough, I coulda spent that on hydro
You ain't slick enough, think I don't know
[Verse 14]
Dumb ass think I slept on your bum ass
Knew the whole stee 'bout a chip like me
Did it on G P, let you eat me
Couldn't even freak me, I'm better off with TV
[Verse 15]
(That Firm shit, that Firm shit)
[Verse 16]
Can't get enough, ooh-ooh
Ooh
(That Firm shit, that Firm shit)
[Verse 17]
You're love, you're so good
You deserve some hardcore
(That Firm shit, that Firm shit)
[Verse 18]
You're love, you're so good
You deserve some hardcore
(That Firm shit, that Firm shit)
[Verse 19]
You're love, so good
You deserve some hardcore
(That Firm shit, that Firm shit)
[Verse 20]
Can't get enough, ooh-ooh
Ooh
(That Firm shit, that Firm shit)
[Verse 21]
Can't get enough, ooh-ooh
Ooh
Written by: Inga Marchand, Jean Claude Olivier, Nas, Samuel Barnes, Samuel James Harris III, Terry Lewis
instagramSharePathic_arrow_out