One-Three - Switch Hitter

Yea
Three
Xai Vert you made this shit
Sheesh
Yea
She say I'm sexy but she barely know me
That bitch like it fast, fuck her bestie in slow motion
Both them bitches wet just like jet skis on the ocean
Check ya temper, it's a dilemma like Nelly, Kelly Rowland
Out in Tampa in a Bentley Bentayga, this shit is very cozy
Legs on that hoe, suicide doors, yes it's very open
Them legs divided soon as I spoke, like a semi colon
Them legs parted like the Red Sea, I think I am Moses
It's poison every time she leak, I drank a pint of potion
Left her weak from the D, she need some Ibuprofen
SWV, she on her knees, she can't breathe from the choking
Treat ya nose with this dope, let me put some coke in
She went from baby phat to fashion nova
My bitch is very bad, I can't control her
She went from wanting a Scat Pack to a Range Rover
I come from wearing a black mask till the stains over
I used to drink that damn Jack till the pains over
Fuck, matter of fact, I ain't staying sober
Cause balling is all I know like Joe DiMaggio
I used to be blonde, hair long, Leonardo DiCaprio
I barely speak, I'm in the streets, fuck the drama
I need peace, I can't even sleep cause of this trauma
My best friend was an only child, he ain't even mean to leave his momma
The way that boy got shot up he must be best friends with the doctor
We got that boy head spinning like a fidget spinner
1942 for the crew, you sippin' bitter liquor
After me and my bitch fuck, I watch Witcher with her
She wanna bring a friend up, they switch hitters
Shawty she really bout it bout it, I hit a lick with her
Different positions with the stick, I put a switch in her
Sex changes on my blick, I put a dick in her
Shawty shaking for the tips, you know I'm a big spender
She said that my body and dick mismatching
You talk to the feds, dispatching
I left that boy dead in a big casket
Like a hood ex, she won't miss the ratchet
Get to packing
Before it's lights out and it's cameras off, you gone get the action
Michael Jackson, if I light up the floor, that boy gone be tap dancing
He died, that's it
It ended up tragic
Who want smoke, I got the remote, who want the static?
If it's up there then it's stuck there, bitch it's an attic
That's another body bag, if you had a bag, then it's paper or plastic
You hear the engine roar in the car, you know it park, Jurassic
I count up the bands, rubber band man, all of this money elastic
Way I stretch out the money it stretch out her pussy, she calling me Mr. Fantastic
She calling me daddy, she calling shaggy, hit the block up like Mr. Bombastic
He a batty boy
Skin the face off his head, he a nazi boy
I'm a big kid but I copped a toy
Get his wig split then I block the noise, got me paranoid
Left the boy sizzling like sirloin
So many drugs in my system it still wouldn't fill the void
Big Three
Big Vert

Written by:
Alfredo Carral

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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