Where we were both kinda thing
Betchya crawl, all alone
Where we were both kinda thing
Betchya crawl, all alone
Where we were both kinda thing
Betchya crawl, all alone
Who am I?
Rec League, I ain't paid to ball
Y'all B-string like a broke guitar
And I still put it down like the family dog
Yeah. I murder some, I murder one
Explain it all, Ferguson
We ain't gotta sing the same old love song
Cut a white girl with the same black gloves on
Yeah what you saying to it?
Old money look no money don't do it
Nigga coming round in they lane like a Huey
And I'm only looking back if I'm looking at her booty
(At her Boooty)
What's the rationale?
They wanna smoke a niggas but they Black & Mild
So we acting out
Ok cool
Where we were both kinda thing
Betchya crawl, all alone
Where we were both kinda thing
Betchya crawl, all alone
Where we were both kinda thing
Betchya crawl, all alone
Where we were both kinda thing
Betchya crawl, all alone
Blue dream by the bouquet 'til I'm blue faced on a Tuesday
(Can I have some?)
#NiggasBeLike
Put a plus eighteen on that e-vite
And I said what I felt, no re-write
Nah nah, they can't hold me
June/July, drop something
I double dare you, I'm Marc Summers
I scorch winters, I burn autumns
Gut niggas, so Kurt Vonne
Elle Varner got a crush on him
I gotta wait in line for that
Ain't nobody got time for that
Ain't nobody gotta rhyme with that
Too true like 2 Chainz
Blue blood he both gangs
Where we were both kinda thing
Betchya crawl, all alone
Where we were both kinda thing
Betchya crawl, all alone
Where we were both kinda thing
Betchya crawl, all alone
Writer(s): Taiwo John Hassan, Alessia Degasperis Brigante, Kehinde James Hassan, Donald Mckinley Glover Ii, Christian Kimberly Rich
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com