Concrete Boys, Lil Yachty and KARRAHBOOO - JEFF & LITA

Bad bitch, know I'm too rich, want me to come on here
I make niggas tuck the shit that hand under they chin
I make them niggas act right, we don't fuck with them
Every Audemars I ever bought, came factory
Same twenty-four as me, why they mad at me?
Hmm, niggas not 'Crete, bitch, obsolete
Hmm, quit your job before you think you can fuck with me
Things on the Ford, plastic in my whores
Maybach truck be bouncin' up and down, it look like George
Beatin' up them ties and them breaks on the voyage
Four wock, run into a Tesla, look like Porsche
Say my name, think you can fuck with me, you need to lore
I threw in lore, could've bought the ho' a Louis store
Rocked in a life and right out now, like revolvin' doors
But all y'all steppers up on your couch, make 'em do some chores
I feel like poppin' my shit today without any chorus
I walk around with fifty karats, like I'm feedin' bugs
I pour the tall, a couple Wock', hard not to chug
I was nineteen, doin' what they wish they could
I had bitches in and out, like a runway casting
Don't put your mouth on it, baby, if you don't got no passion
I treat every nigga around me like my mama had 'em
They underestimate every time, I'm movin' right past 'em
I fuck a bitch to three songs, I am not lastin'
I let them folks have the beach, I'ma fly to Aspen
I told them folks that I was king, like I came from Akron
They act like they know what I mean, so I had to show 'em
I lost my brother and I know how Bret felt with Owen
I asked God to send a sign and it started snowin'
I got known for my grill, like I'm Gary Coleman
Off of X, I get the feeling like them niggas on me
I'm a real geeker, pour the pint of Wock' in a clear beaker
Niggas want beef and become Angry Birds, niggas just tweeters
I'm a whole hitter, I'm a drink dumper
All my whips new, ain't never need no cable jumpers
Niggas are gettin' they ho' hit, just like No Jumper
I'm a flow shaker, I'm a bill printer
I'm a cash grabber, you an ass-kisser
Heard how y'all actin' in front of the hoes, this is not a desert
I dropped eight-thousand twice, on Bottega sweaters
I dropped eighty-thousand a hundred times, on different endeavors
Hit the strip, my bitch Miss Frizzy, she change the weather
Okay, I heard the bars them niggas spit, but it wasn't clever
I'm solo steppin', don't need no friends, don't call my phone ever
This shit I'm teasin' on Margiela with the vintage leather
He came outside in Nike slides, how is he a stepper? (Ooh)

I got all these bitches scared and I could tell
Niggas hate that I'm not lady-like, fuck 'em, oh, well
Nigga wanna fuck with me, 'til I bring his hoes hell
Hald hoes can't even rap, truth be told, sex sells
Y'all do anything for cheese, caught in the trap, every tail
All the bros around me solid, they'll hop you up if you squeal
Ridin' in a dress, don't want 'em lookin' at my pussy when I'm on they neck
I no longer evolve, so rich, they don't get my respect (okay)
These niggas sensitive, on God, they act just like a bitch
These bitches talk too much, I never take them on a lick
He know he can't get pussy, he ain't spendin' on strict
They ask me who I fuck with, truth be told, the story lives (go)
The coupe is dipped in piss, look like he beat it in flush
Okay, they act up to my jam, I'll show 'em who the real rush
It take a lot to impress me, it take a lot for me to blush
It break my heart findin' out these niggas broke, that's why I call 'em crushes (it's Us)
My brother got lean, like you need crutches ('Crete)
Boujee, I wouldn't stick Metro inside a duchess

Who is he? That nigga, since Disney paid Vanessa Hudgens
One finger, get that nigga gone, no bluffin'
Talkin' crazy, I could tell he on that coke, David Ruffin
We go back and forth spazzin', Jeff and Lita
I can tell these niggas all snakes, like Nokia

It's Us

Written by:
Brandon Mitchell, Bryant Troy, Dashawn Jackson, Karrah Schuester, Miles McCollum

Publisher:
Lyrics © Songtrust Ave

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