summrs - who's better? lyrics
[verse 1: summrs!]
i don’t wanna talk, .30 all on me
glock be all on me, your b-tch all on me
f-ck her in the sheets, pull off in that jeep
it’s just me and this b-tch, yeah we too deep
sippin’ on that lean, racks up in my jeans
she treat me like a king, like who better than me?
who better than me, who better than me?
i’m so into you and you so into me
b-tch i’m off a bean, i can’t see a thing
i can’t feel a thing, ’cause my heart cold
i need a b-tch like my racks, that means you can’t fold
[verse 2: summrs!]
green light on that glizzy, put that b-tch on go
callin’, hundreds, fifties, and i stay ten toes
shoutout to my slimes, shoutout to my bros
i won’t spend a dime, i know she a hoe
i’m just tryna shine, get expensive clothes
b-tches come and go, this money come and stay
pull up to your spot and shoot up where you stay
heard you talking stupid, we could end that sh-t today
and if i take a l, b-tch i got a big k
i don’t f-ck with snakes, they only on my coat
i be off that lean, can’t look, i need some help
did this by myself, and my boots say ysl
katie, that’s my baby and i know that you could tell
og cookie strain and i know that you could smell
she dancing on my d-ck, got me harder than a sh-ll
free my slimes out them bars, hope y’all doing well
b-tch i keep a mac but i make hits off a dell
and i got them xans, perkies on sale
zippy or a ounce, ship it through the mail
b-tch i’m a peeper, baby light up the l
pull up to the scene, all eyes on me
glocky with the beam, got a glocky with the beam
and i’m with lil weiland, b-tch we on the scene
shooting up a movie like we shooting spike lee
[verse 3: weiland]
all these diamonds on my neck, this codeine cost your rent
i can’t wife a thot, treat that b-tch with no respect
got a tec up in the back, i’mma aim it at your neck
yeah, these diamonds vvs, yeah, these diamonds they reflect
yeah, i’m up on your block, riding with a glock
watching out for opps, choppa red dot
aim it at your top, put you on the spot
i be counting guap, model b-tches giving top
number (n)ine jeans, turned into a fiend
bad b-tch off the bean, bad b-tch off the bean, yeah
i be off them percocets, yeah
off the lean, yeah i can’t have no s-x, yeah
i be off them percocets, yeah
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