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king word - come get you ah gram lyrics

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[ intro ]

[ hook: savv montana ]
what i need to do
hit a lick on a brick make it flip hit the kitch work my wrist
what i need to do
hit the hood bust a jugg flexed up like a niga wish he could
pull up & throw blue bandz, of molly sandan, b-tch lick of my hand
come get you ah gram, come get you ah gram
what i need to do. (x2 )

[ verse1: king word ]
cop a new coop
slide in a lamb we shoot of your roof
yo b-tch is screaming that hipster the truth
flooded in carrots no vegetable soup
stuntin & stacking this ice on my wrist
pull up & throw gold all over yo b-tch
i do not fuck with you lil bity b-tch
young niga like me getting hella rich
rocking real gold this shit authentic, got a new coop with yo b-tch of in it, she slob on my d-ck like my d-ck is candy, stunting on y’all i could of won a grammy, d-mn it
flexing like you got it when i got yo b-tch on a molly
serving straight drop like i’m christopher wallace
i’ve been serving p’s what you mean
nigas know we sipping on easter pink
yo hoe’s treat me like i’m a king
got seven hoes layed up on me
i go dummy ya i got some loose screws, got some youngins that’s down to go & shoot, run inside yo crib ya they will rob you, i need them birdies or you can meet my tool
like

[ hook: savv montana ]
what i need to do
hit a lick on a brick make it flip hit the kitch work my wrist
what i need to do
hit the hood bust a jugg flexed up like a niga wish he could
what i need to do
pull up & throw blue bandz, of molly sandan, b-tch lick of my hand
come get you ah gram, come get you ah gram
what i need to do. (x2 )

[ verse2: savv montana ]
i’m gone of the xans
& molly sandan
b-tch lick of my hand
she say she a fan
she say she think i’m the man, because i got bandz
rite now i’m ah new trend
montana again
loud just like ah band
open that gas pack
got me lit like a fan, boy you dont understand
what im smoking on, og gasbag up in my zig zag, catch me in traffic i’m riding with that mac, you know that b-tch on me because my pants sag, get wrong then i just mite go get the mask, creep up & reap up & hit you for cash, pull up with thirty’s clip’s long like ah jumpman, you try to hurt me then we bout go & blast
kickin pimpin serving sipping high cl-ss, with yo main b-tch & she lit like ah fan, got her leanin over, cause act up in my soda, fuck her slump her over, & i ain’t talking yoga, blowing on that doja d-mn
& that og gas it be all over me
with a bad b-tch running currency
probably in ah audi whipping foreincy



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