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king hendrick$ - leaving the lot lyrics

[?] on a three level yacht with some bottles of drank
leaving the lot on the way to the bank
leaving the lot on the way to the bank
big body smell like a pound of gellati
i made a pit stop put some za in my tank
her birkin bag hold a biscotti
my b+tch got a natural body its not what you think
switchin’ my vehicles, switchin’ my [?} i’m not tricking no hoes i’m just tipping my driver
find me a plug out of town with that gas i’ma cop me a bag set the city on fire
crossin’ the border with dora the explorer, my cocaine whiter than lizzie mcguire
dog in the cell with a miniature bible
brodie didn’t tell so i sent him a wire
cocaine whiter than jennifer lawrence, that heron michael b. jordan as tan
800 horses inside of the motor, i pull up on n+ggas it sound like the klan
we got a spot in the ceiling where we be [?} the pills just unscrew the fan
curbside pickup just like walmart shopping center thank you come again
flipping the bentley got tired of my chauffeur i gave him a day off of work and some racks
i need a drake type of deal at the minimum, 100 m’s we finna purchase a jet
boss hog [?] serve and collect big 30 on me in a purplish ‘vette
i really got rich off percocet [?] soulja boy tell’em ain’t the first at that
ridin’ in the s+6+5 and it’s 60 degrees i need me a turtle neck
google myself i’m worth a check
you can hate on me but that sh+t ain’t just gonna work, it’s gonna be the reverse effect
maybach rear end curtains eject
penthouse high where the turbulence at
you broke out here, you’re allergic to racks
i might bow up in gold burgundy ‘lac
she say i’m ungrateful ’cause i made her take all the burberry back
sippin’ on drank i’m gettin’ purposefully fat
my money real neat it be perfectly stacked
n+gga you won’t want to walk in my shoes or put on my clothes my shirt is a rack
sellin’ blue jeans like we workin’ at saks
pushin’ new bentley i blew up my motor
servin’ my daddy now i’m a lil’ older
neighbors got mad they complained ’bout the odor
rockin’ chinchilla it chill on my shoulders
save all the [?] and pay rent with the [?] the blues go for 42 in dakota
find out she stealin’ my money i’ma choke her
ridin’ in the back of the benz like oprah
[?] on a three level yacht with some bottles of drank
leaving the lot on the way to the bank
leaving the lot on the way to the bank
big body smell like a pound of gellati
i made a pit stop put some za in my tank
her birkin bag hold a biscotti
my b+tch got a natural body
everyday we can go eat [?] sometimes i sit back and eat me some noodles
ridin’ with the girl and the boy in the back if the police pull over the car its a uber
regular in your cigar its a hookah
yellow b+tch washing my car with a loofah
flyin’ in a rocket i doubt they gon’ nuke us
ran up my guap and went bought a bazooka

- king hendrick lyrics

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