yung keeta – cts! lyrics
[chorus: keeta]
everyday we addin’ up
goin’ super fast in cts’s they ain’t catchin’ us
that boy be so broke yeah he a bum he had to catch the bus
don’t touch back it up
big bag stack it up
i been gettin’ cash ye im the boss of it
yo’ hoe i’m on top of her
i can not leave my house unless i’m bringin’ my chop over
told me that her mom hates me she say i’m a pot smoker
i just hit up gang i told them to bring the drop over
bring over the drop, i’m tyna sip
i got some leftover wock on my lips
money on gang gang, money crip
money on beats how i make it flip
tell your hoe “baby don’t drip”
empty the holе, clip
r.i.p. bozo like rip, ha yeah
[verse 1: pichu]
i’m gonna spin this h+llcat
feeling likе yeat where the bells at
racks came in got a maybach
spend a 100k and i made it back
ridin’ that lexus all black
close that zipper you ain’t all that
cup you sipping ain’t all drank
ha ha, choppa’ turn you to a potato
i got some business outta the way bro
you ain’t gon f+ck then out of the way hoe
i got so much money i’m rich
my glock hotter than your b+tch
you is a bug, glitch
talkin that smack and i’m ballin’ the fist
[chorus: keeta]
everyday we addin’ up
goin’ super fast in cts’s they ain’t catchin’ us
that boy be so broke yeah he a bum he had to catch the bus
don’t touch back it up
big bag stack it up
i been gettin’ cash ye im the boss of it
yo’ hoe i’m on top of her
i can not leave my house unless i’m bringin’ my chop over
told me that her mom hates me she say i’m a pot smoker
i just hit up gang i told them to bring the drop over
bring over the drop, i’m tyna sip
i got some leftover wock on my lips
money on gang gang, money crip
money on beats how i make it flip
tell your hoe “baby don’t drip”
empty the hole, clip
r.i.p. bozo like rip, ha yeah
[verse 2: caponeti]
hollow tips knock out septum
p+ssy won’t run ’cause he know we gone catch em (huh)
better go get some protection
we gon’ catch that lil’ n+gga get hit with this weapon (huh)
green on the tip when we stretch ’em
and i feel like i’m nigma i riddle this message (huh)
pull out the smith and the wesson
spark up the spliff man this b+tch is a session
i put the strips in account
band too big i might need an accountant
got a b+tch suckin me while i’m coutin’
put a hole in his head like a fountain
please do not play with me i’ll pick a place to be f+cking with me you’ll end up in a mountain
but i bet a f+ck n+gga can’t handle that
send the beat and you know i dismantle that (woah)
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