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damedot – too many grams lyrics

[intro]
sh+t

[chorus: damedot]
yeah, plug just sent too many grams
this sh+t pure, it ain’t touch too many hands
she got too much booty in the pants
bad b+tch asked me if she can get a chance (d+mn)
nah, i ain’t into romance (i ain’t into that)
b+tch, we could f+ck or we could count these bands
white gucci hoodie on, ku klux klan
how you backstab me and you my mans?
[post+chorus: young will]
this b+tch ain’t bad, i need two of her friends (nah)
the ho ain’t sh+t, she’ll f+ck for seafood
boy, you in a room at the holiday inn (haha)
we got ars, pistols, and chops
whenever we ride, that’s held up behind tint (brrt, brrt, brrt)
got a n+gga mad, probably f+cked his b+tch
n+gga, if you ain’t talkin’, how you gettin’ out quick?
n+ggas broke, chillin’, sittin’ in the house sick

[verse 1: young will]
big ten+milli’ on my hip make me walk with a limp
it ain’t no murder if you squeezin’ the triggеr
[?][0:32] they call it attempts
n+gga, i’m a boss to your b+tch, you a shrimp
i f+ck whenеver i please, i pay her to leave
lil’ n+gga, i’m somethin’ like a pimp
he tried to diss me for clout
i’m playin’ like i never seen him, but i’m sendin’ hits

[verse 2: damedot]
i’m over the stove, i ain’t cookin’ grits
my b+tch a homebody, she ain’t ever in the mix
i was sleep off the drank, she was tryna take a pic
i’m a quarterback, i ain’t tryna get blitzed
in the kitchen with a mask on my face like i’m rip
he ain’t no dancer, we gon’ make a n+gga strip
nah, i ain’t no thief, but i’ll steal a n+gga b+tch
[verse 3: young will]
then send her ass home ’cause her head ain’t sh+t
my n+gga wanna shoot, he don’t wanna take a pic
how many bands can i stuff in the vent?
n+ggas be chasin’ these hoes, they feelings get hurt
he got k!lled for thinkin’ with his d+ck
my n+ggas lay in your grass and get on your ass
it’ll be over before you can snitch
on the dark web tryna search up a brick
n+ggas try to steal all the sauce then switch
that b+tch too basic, bro, i couldn’t even hit
i’m bored as h+ll inside of the crib
turn on alexa to play all my sh+t
he was so gangster, now he in a blunt
since he so loud, we gon’ turn him to runtz
i f+cked that b+tch and i went on the run
she keep on callin’, ain’t seen me in months

[chorus: damedot]
yeah, plug just sent too many grams
this sh+t pure, it ain’t touch too many hands
she got too much booty in the pants
bad b+tch asked me if she can get a chance (d+mn)
nah, i ain’t into romance (i ain’t into that)
b+tch, we could f+ck or we could count these bands
white gucci hoodie on, ku klux klan
how you backstab me and you my mans?
[post+chorus: young will]
this b+tch ain’t bad, i need two of her friends
the ho ain’t sh+t, she’ll f+ck for seafood
boy, you in a room at the holiday inn (haha)
we got ars, pistols, and chops
whenever we ride, that’s held up behind tint
got a n+gga mad, probably f+cked his b+tch
n+gga, if you ain’t talkin’, how you gettin’ out quick?
n+ggas broke, chillin’, sittin’ in the house, sick

- damedot lyrics

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