boi mystery - mosalah lyrics
i don’t need none of these hoes, that’s on my crew
can’t front you an o, but i keep these blues
where the problem at, tell me where the problem at
that boy was talkin bad until we went and got him back
she said she want me bad, d+mn that girl got bottom fat
mcqueens, yeah i bought her that, my gun in her prada bag
my team, put em on my back, ballin like mo salah, yeah
the beans prolly leave dead, so i’d never swallow that
i’m in your city with the best weed, hit me directly
after i put the ville on, they might as well elect me
i’m rollin up by myself, it hit when i expect it
i keep that .9 on my belt, that sh+t a smith & wesson
bank rolls, bank rolls all i count is blues
stank hoes get thrown b+tch get out my coupe
got eight figures in the zone, now i can’t count to two
like i’m huncho, gettin geeked off that malibu
i told you, who id be i don’t know how i knew
expose you, to my g’s now you boutta lose
in pro tools, i’m just kiddin use logic for everything
no views, but a vault i could drop out of any day
i don’t need none of these hoes, that’s on my crew
can’t front you an o, but i keep these blues
where the problem at, tell me where the problem at
that boy was talkin bad until we went and got him back
she said she want me bad, d+mn that girl got bottom fat
mcqueens, yeah i bought her that, my gun in her prada bag
my team, put em on my back, ballin like mo salah, yeah
the beans prolly leave dead, so i’d never swallow that
don’t let me cut in with that left, when i shoot you gon regret it
don’t even wanna step, i got behind your line i read it
stay signin all these checks, i withdraw cash i don’t do credit
still tryna be the greatest every day like cr7
feel like lord bendtner, the undisputed goat
roll a blunt of pressure, now i go on albuterol
hit jt like let’s work, you know he gon do the most
record until my head hurt, give me a milli for the show
divock origi, you can’t stop me in that clutch
feel like vvd, way i’m rollin up this dutch
foreign girl named kiki, she said baby how’s your touch
ask me why i’m leaving, cuz i got a better bunch
i don’t need none of these hoes, that’s on my crew
can’t front you an o, but i keep these blues
where the problem at, tell me where the problem at
that boy was talkin bad until we went and got him back
she said she want me bad, d+mn that girl got bottom fat
mcqueens, yeah i bought her that, my gun in her prada bag
my team, put em on my back, ballin like mo salah, yeah
the beans prolly leave dead, so i’d never swallow that
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