A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #

Asian Doll

"Deal"

[Hook]
I had money, way before the deal
Still ain’t got no deal, I’m flexing looking like a meal
Everything I spit a hit, I flex like doctor Phil
You ain’t in the field, homies dying, boy you squeal

[Post-Hook]
Aye
I was gangster way before them Glocks
Grew up in the south ain’t never banged another block
For b*tch to see the hoe in you, your n*gga was a opp
How you ain’t a star, I’ll beat you at the top

[Verse 1]
Mac eleven heaven clip
Hope you go to heaven b*tch
Ain’t no back and forth, lambo straight up off the dealership
Get some head and then I dip
Stop
All that capping, running lip, I’m echelon
I’m off a zip, like a doll, bye b*tch
Backwood, just like me, some dirty and a sprite
Let you pipe my b*tches twice
My money long it made me nice
I got sh*t I never had, double digits do the math
Bet that b*tch ain’t go to school, who she passing looking ass
b*tches ain’t gon’ never pop, but tryna compete
Don’t f*ck with goofy n*ggas, b*tches
I like savages freaks
What’s a team with dumb b*tches, I be riding with heat
Try to help these hoes, I failed, but they was aiming at me
Cut throat killer b*tch
Slow, break a kilo
I’m a gang banger
Real b*tch, bout my pesos
Gotta lay low, feds watching
Wanna take my mans
Don’t you?
Semi automatics, for n*ggas who be speaking on me

[Hook]
I had money, way before the deal
Still ain’t got no deal, I’m flexing looking like a meal
Everything I spit a hit, I flex like doctor Phil
You ain’t in the field, homies dying, boy you squeal

[Post-Hook]
Aye
I was gangster way before them Glocks
Grew up in the south ain’t never banged another block
For b*tch to see the hoe in you, your n*gga was a opp
How you ain’t a star, I’ll beat you at the top

[Verse 2]
Let’s talk about these b*tches, how they capping
Run them numbers up, Asian Doll, I’m never slacking
Girl your really dumb, throwing gangs you don’t know
I’m a real doll, ten toes on the floor
White b*tch booted and she sniffing all the coke
Roll a backwood, five grams in that hoe
Texas lean gold, pus*y sweeter than a roll
Riding with your n*gga he be pressing on my toes
Blow you like a candle light
I get higher than a kite
Bells in the mail
b*tch you stupid, you can’t spend the night
I got cheat codes to the game, that’s why I’m winning
You a goofy when you fumble, that’s why you losing
Bullets hot like the sun, targets make you run
Put a beam on that b*tch, target from the sun
All these b*tches wanna do is just wash away
How they f*ck you ride around with a pus*y 8?

[Hook]
I had money, way before the deal
Still ain’t got no deal, I’m flexing looking like a meal
Everything I spit a hit, I flex like doctor Phil
You ain’t in the field, homies dying, boy you squeal

[Post-Hook]
Aye
I was gangster way before them Glocks
Grew up in the south ain’t never banged another block
For b*tch to see the hoe in you, your n*gga was a opp
How you ain’t a star, I’ll beat you at the top

A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #


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