[Intro]
(FBEAT go crazy)
Hmm
Baow, baow, baow, baow
Hmm (Every time you call, you say bunk, so I don't pick up)
(FBEAT producing all the heat)
You call, I don't pick up
Hmm
Hmm
[Chorus]
Every time you call, you say bunk, so I don't pick up
I was walkin' through the mall, gave a fuck 'cause I was blicked up
Ain't see shit like Ray Charles (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
You can hit the feeling on a ho (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
Plus I got the racks, I feel like bowling (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
You can put the tester on my diamonds (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
We already slid, but we can't find him (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
Nigga took his bitch, now he can't find her, hmm
[Verse 1]
Bitch, I'm motion slidin' in the coupe, got a BBL
Bitch, I'm trophied up, but not the one that's on the shelf
All these niggas lil' pups, baby boy, grab the belt
Why you tryna pop it, then you go and call for help?
Better that you didn't get involved (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
We gon' stack them racks up tall (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
Got some Tinys that's gon' pop up on call (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
Whoever hangin' out, kill 'em all (Yeah, yeah)
Hmm, I don't give a fuck, I can have any bitch I want
Nigga sendin' threats, but I ain't spooked 'cause I know he won't
Slide through they backstreet, fuck it, we gon' up the score
Why you think he ain't at me? 'Cause he don't really want no smoke
Baow, baow, baow, baow, baow, shit, that's all I know
Body hit the ground, now we laughin' at him like a joke
Put him in the lost and found 'cause nobody even fuckin' know him
At first, she had the trophy, and then she fumbled
[Chorus]
Every time you call, you say bunk, so I don't pick up
I was walkin' through the mall, gave a fuck 'cause I was blicked up
Ain't see shit like Ray Charles (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
You can hit the feeling on a ho (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
Plus I got the racks, I feel like bowling (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
You can put the tester on my diamonds (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
We already slid, but we can't find him (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
Nigga took his bitch, now he can't find her, hmm
[Verse 2]
Rich Crip walked in the room, got 'em pressured up
Put them lil' twenties up 'cause I got them hundreds out
You either bump rump or a trophy, gotta choose a route
That bitch either bunk or a trophy, but I can figure out
I'm the biggest joint she ever seen (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
County jail, don't make a scene (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
Glock 19, do my thing (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
Fuck it, we gon' strip him for his things (Yeah, yeah)
Bounced out the coupe, now all the bitches starin' up
Told her, "Get back, I heard you fuck on lil' pups"
I'm a top-rank Crip, these niggas can't compare to me
Shh, hmm, bitch, let me smoke this 'Wood in peace
I don't even like niggas, give a fuck about a meet and greet
He an average joe, he don't mean shit to me
Bitch, why you drivin' fast? Do you know I got this blick on me?
Pop, pop, pop, now we got they homies crying
[Chorus]
Every time you call, you say bum, so I don't pick up (FBEAT go crazy)
I was walkin' through the mall, gave a fuck 'cause I was blicked up
Ain't see shit like Ray Charles (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
You can hit the feeling on a ho (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
Plus I got the racks, I feel like bowling (Yeah, yeah, yeah, FBEAT producing all the heat)
You can put the tester on my diamonds (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
We already slid, but we can't find him (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
Nigga took his bitch, now he can't find her, hmm
[Outro]
We took his bitch, now he can't find her
Did it with my niggas
Hmm
Boom, boom, boom, boom
Every time you call, you say bunk, I don't pick up
Hmm
Nigga dead homie on the street, better pick him up
