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warhol.ss – for what lyrics

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[chorus: warhol.ss]
b.b. simon belt blingin’
keep the .9 tucked in this givenchy
d-mn you talk too much, i want you to top me
baby don’t be shy i want it sloppy
picture perfect n-gga, i got drip on me now
hunnid round choppa shootin’, buss him in his eye
keep the fire n-gga, don’t you test it ’cause it’s tucked
wesson make him buckle, i could give a f-ck
f-ck his ho for what
keep this pole for what
hit the store for what
hoppin’ out this truck
n-ggas want woods, finna roll up
choppa on the p-ssenger, i might jus’ cut the stove up

[verse 1: warhol.ss]
choppa rob a n-gga, we gon’ stop him like a hold up
i’m in traffic ridin’ ’round wit’ peso we be poured up
deuce or better in this fanta, n-gga don’t you bother me
rollin’ this gelato, you know we gon’ need all the tree

[verse 2: rx peso]
big chain on my neck bling (bling bling bling)
rich gang getcha b-tch weak
i dropped 8 lines and lost faith (lost faith)
real trap n-gga my racks never shrink
check my insta i got drip on me now (drip now)
i’m in the pot, saint laurent, neck down
givenchy on that ho i bet i pipe her down (bet i hit)
i lift my wrist up on two cups right now
i hit my dms, yo b-tch in it now
it’s 12 pm, on two of ’em now
f-ck the motorsport i have to toast up wit’ my n-ggas
it’s fear god but i know god gon’ forgive a k!ller
i bussdown rollie’s and count up for my potential
it’s detrimental, get some money, they don’t feel you (they don’t understand)
i want my n-gga warhol play wit’ dem my kids (play wit’ our kids)
i pour more codeine so ion gotta feel it
shoot at 12, k!ll yo -ss in a whistle
it ain’t no talkin’ to zip the bag ‘n i don’t miss
if that’s my n-gga then i pour that actavis
upgrade my income, i dropped it in the trenches (in the trenches)

[chorus: warhol.ss]
b.b. simon belt blingin’
keep the .9 tucked in this givenchy
d-mn you talk too much, i want you to top me
baby don’t be shy i want it sloppy
picture perfect n-gga, i got drip on me now
hunnid round choppa shootin’, buss him in his eye
keep the fire n-gga, don’t you test it ’cause it’s tucked
wesson make him buckle, i could give a f-ck
f-ck his ho for what
keep this pole for what
hit the store for what
hoppin’ out this truck
n-ggas want woods, finna roll up
choppa on the p-ssenger, i might jus’ cut the stove up



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