duwap kaine - out on bond lyrics
[intro]
yeah, yeah, yeah
yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (oh)
yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
[verse]
b+tch, i’m not talkin’ ’bout iphone when i just said i made an air drop (d+mn, d+mn, d+mn)
v+vvs fit with them teardrops (d+mn, d+mn)
f+ckin’ your ho and i’m makin’ her bed rock (d+mn)
i read the money, f+ck a bookshop
i’m makin’ edibles in a crockpot
dolce gabbana my flip+flops
whippin’ that pot, n+gga, ’til my wrist lock
got long hair, i don’t got a flat top
love totin’ guns ’cause my brother chop
i do not f+ck with 911, i do not see myself being a cop
i only see myself at the top
i just see f+ck n+ggas being opps
i’m a young n+gga, sir flex+a+lot
when in the f+ck the beat gon’ drop? (woo)
where my bros with a thot?
flex music, no, this not hip+hop
hit him with a sig, n+gga, and he hip and he hop
uppin’ my pistol whеn i’m finna hop
can’t trust the plug, n+gga, i got set up
i’m goin’ through it, you said, “keep your head up”
not ’bout thеse b+tches, man, i’m ’bout the cheddar
you know you a b+tch, you a rumor spreader
i swear to god i do it better
two rap b+tches, yeah, salt+n+pepa
i spent a thousand dollars on a sweater
just to wear that sh+t in any weather
slow, i swear that all of these b+tches be slow
right at the store, right at the citgo
and i’m in jail, but i don’t need stove
’cause i’m finna bond out, finna go, go, go
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