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myaap - automatic lyrics

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[intro]
[?]
i don’t want yo n+gga, but i want yo friend
you know i go crazy, you know i go fed
get on yo knees, n+gga, and give me head
baow
baow, baow, baow (on my daddy)
get on yo knees, n+gga, and give me head

[verse 1]
n+gga, f+ck a automatic, this a .50
i’mma hit a b+tch up with the switchy
put it on that n+gga once, now he miss me
get rich or die trying, like i’m 50
b+tch i’m from the mil’, we get litty in the city
smoking out the pack, smoking on that sticky
if you lookin’ for a boss b+tch, get with me
n+ggas be tellin’, i should call they ass mickey
everywhere i go, you know i gotta [?] cripsy
baow, get in mode, shake yo hips, hit that heel toe
point to the air, left, right, then you hit the flo’
baow, then you hit the flo’
i got fifty, i got blues, i’m up hеlla racks
if i ever said i loved you, that was f+ckin’ cap
back, back, gеt in mode, throw that sh+t back
back, back, like, yeah, make that sh+t clap
fat cat back, all i want is the rackies
from the mil’ where we say, “on my daddy”
i’m a baddie, you know i got a fatty
pullin’ up quick, just send me the addy
i won’t ever let a broke n+gga have me
i ain’t stoppin’ ’till i win me a grammy
b+tch mad ’cause her n+gga chose me
the n+gga know i’m richer, that n+gga know i’m p
gotta pay a fee, ain’t sh+t in this world free
competin’ wit’ n0body, b+tch, it’s me versus me
i’m who these n+ggas want, i’m who these b+tches wanna be
up on the net, but in person, b+tches cheap
b+tch, hit that sh+t, hit that sh+t to this beat
baow, get in mode, [?], you betta eat
choppa get to bussin’ off the b+tch off her feet
cookin’ straight fire, so you know i’m serving heat
[chorus]
[?]
i don’t want yo n+gga, but i want yo friend
you know i go crazy, you know i go fed
get on yo knees, n+gga, and give me head

[verse 2]
all my b+tches got a bag, [?]
thought this was the end? this only the beginning
on these b+tches necks as long as i’m living
if you broke and sittin’ on yo ass, i ain’t interferin’
i be outside everyday, bet’ not ever catch you slippin’
my shooters gon’ play, some blood, some crippin’
thought you was finna hit it, then you must be trippin’
purped out, b+tches always in my f+ckin’ business
spend that n+gga bag, make that n+gga go delirious
i could never ever take a broke n+gga serious
my flow is the illest, you know i’m the realest
i won’t stop, i won’t quit
make hits after hits b+tch
he gon’ choose me everytime ’cause i’m so lit
she gon’ throw that sh+t back, she gon’ do a trick
she gon’ do a split on it, gon’ [?]
[?] and blow a bag ’cause i’m so rich
yeah, i see you havin’ money, but is you spendin’ it?
no, i can’t make this sh+t clap, if you ain’t throwin’ cash
used to be f+cked up with no money, now, i’m on track
i don’t ever trip on what i spend, ’cause i’mma make it back
you can’t come around here lackin’, get yo’ sh+t whacked
money ain’t sh+t, baby, i got big racks
n+ggas say i’m bad, i look like a snack
did it on my own with no help, that’s a fact
ask yo b+tch, she might know
b+tch, i’m myaap
all his b+tches basic and i’m bad, i’m a real piece
time to wake these b+tches up, they [?]
i’mma make it far with this sh+t, y’all gon’ feel me
[chorus]
[?]
i don’t want yo n+gga, but i want yo friend
you know i go crazy, you know i go fed
get on yo knees, n+gga, and give me head



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