Yung Plewto Weezz - Coupe (feat. CornBreezyy Deniro)
Come through, hoppin' out the coupe, I'm like, who is you
Take a bitch and turn her legs into ten and two
Prada shades, pockets paid, and that pussy juice
All my niggas paid, these hoes ain't gone know who to choose
How could you hate a real nigga when you see one
I might get rid of nine bitches and only keep one
I like my pockets real thick, I'm talking deep ones
Soon as you speak on loyalty, I'm tryin' to peep something
I hop up out the coupe little baby this morning than 20,000
Don't put my name on shit if you ain't got no money around it
Light skin, brown skin, I like any bitch that's thick
Baby know l'm paped up, she let me fuck, I'll pay her rent
Baby this a two door, we can lean the sit back, you can sit on it
Droppin down on a Marni bag is money well spent
I ain't half dickin' on a bitch, I'm putting it all in
If I ain't one of them niggas in this shit then what you call it
Baby this a household on my wrist hmm yea
They see it they be tryna take a pic hmm yea
Thousand dollars on these Gucci sneaks I'm like hell yea
These bitches tryna fuck me cuz I'm lit im like uhhh
Ballin all year on these pussy niggas the we the all stars
If I gotta choice its GT coupe out of all cars
Hit the scene, Prada on with Celine fuckin expensive tings
Play yo role, don't play wit me, can't pay a hoe bitch pay the fee
Pull up in that nascar this shit turn a bitch a freak
Fifty-thousand, hundred thousand that's the kinda shit I need
Pop out with that AK47 we turn shit swiss cheese
These niggas can't fuck with me I get them P's, sent straight to me
I'm the that's doing a the flipping I turn zip to G's
Jumpin out the gym it's a hundred if you want a load like this
Boss nigga ain't talkin to me I ain't explaining shit
Let my chain hang let a nigga touch it'll be the last thing he hang with
Baby I get super fly, this shit ain no suite and tie
Balenciaga, Prada shades ain't no seeing eye to eye
I ain got no listen for them niggas I'm like La Da Da
Let a nigga play crazy this Glock 40 gone go glah glah
We the ones that turn this shit to trends fuck the rah rah
40 singin out that magazine fa la la la
Wipe it down hit it with the squeeze like a faja
This shit gas yo shit rerock like oh na na
Bad bitch she black and Mexican, she Horchata
I keep two Glocks them bitches with me them my partners
Niggas tellin' on they own gang that shit I can't honor
How the fuck you go and speak on loyalty and you a witness dude
I done counted 20,000, all blues, I'm in Saint Laur-
Nigga keep playing tough around this bitch, fuck nigga I'll shake the room
Then I jump back in the coupe
Fuck nigga I jump back in the coupe
Written by:
Ja Quan Mitchell
Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
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