WTW

[Intro: Matt Ox] EVILGIANE SURF GANG Yeah, yeah, yeah Yeah, yeah, yeah Yeah, yeah, huh? Yeah, yeah, yeah [Chorus: Pasto Flocco] Hoes on my body like gnats Send no lo', they can’t know where I'm at What the fuck is the word? Me and my slatts You don't wanna get hurt, better stay your ass back Money slick like a perm, no slick back Race car like derby, hope I don’t crash In the back of the 'burban, the windows all black And you know I don't lack, and you know that's a fact When I thumb through the racks, that's the most I relax Don't run up on me too fast, the whole gang got a strap Told her, "Shut the fuck up," 'fore her boyfriend get slapped It don't matter, fool, I see no lames tryna match Got that stick in my hand like a wizard, try and run you get zapped And them bullets they hot, they gon’ bubble ya back Dirty opp niggas jackin’ the swag Hell no, I can't let they ass catch me in traffic If you think how I think, you on that Two hands, ten racks each hand, that’s a light twenty thousand Only if you thinking like that Niggas never on timing, better pack it, it's a wrap [Verse 1: Matt Ox] Yeah, yeah, yeah Run up them racks Drop that top and I'm going too fast Talking that talk but I know it's all cap Know it’s all cap, nah, you ain't on all that You ain't got guap, you ain't got no rack No, you ain't balling, you ain't balling like that Double that flip but I triple it I'm tryna get to the dividends I'm tryna get to these Benjamins You know I just been flexin' it Yeah, I just been flexin' on them And I got them stressin' it New wrist, I been steppin' on them Yeah, you know I'm steppin' it In the club with no ID, yeah, you know I'm getting in I got all this drip on me, you know I been setting trends Yeah, you know I'm setting 'em, outside I'm not sitting in If you need it then limit it, I'm not ever quitting this [Verse 2: Pasto Flocco] I swear to God, I'm not quittin' it Make her panic, message and deliver it Fuck a broken bond, I ain't fixing it I'm only holding on 'cause I'm feeling shit But they stupid as fuck, they illiterate I don't know what they on so I gotta stay militant Hundreds and fifties, no twenties and tens All of them hoes want them Benjamins [Chorus: Pasto Flocco] Hoes on my body like gnats Send no lo', they can't know where I'm at What the fuck is the word? Me and my slatts You don't wanna get hurt, better stay your ass back Money slick like a perm, no slick back Race car like derby, hope I don't crash In the back of the 'burban, the windows all black And you know I don't lack, and you know that's a fact When I thumb through the racks, that's the most I relax Don't run up on me too fast, the whole gang got a strap Told her, "Shut the fuck up," 'fore her boyfriend get slapped It don't matter, fool, I see no lames tryna match Got that stick in my hand like a wizard, try and run you get zapped And them bullets they hot, they gon' bubble ya back Dirty opp niggas jackin' the swag Hell no, I can't let they ass catch me in traffic If you think how I think, you on that Two hands, ten racks each hand, that's a light twenty thousand Only if you thinking like that Niggas never on timing, better pack it, it's a wrap