$werve - R.T.T.B.

When I wake up
Baby I get right to the bag
Fuck with me
Then I might just beat yo ass
Since a youngin
I been stuntin in the trap
If I rob you
You'll know, I don't use a mask

Bag it up, wrap it up
Really fast
I just count the cash
Sit back & laugh

All these haters salty man, They really mad
You the type to make a mill & still be sad

We ain't fuckin with you man you way too broke
Ain't got shit to throw in but you wanna smoke
Since a youngin I had to get it on my own
Fuck a pole boy, I'll shoot you with a bow

We can throw bones but boy I swear you too slow
Fresh bands in my hand, my cake ain't old
Ask any G, payin cash the way to go
We ain't alike at all, that's cause you do not smoke

When I wake up
Baby I get right to the bag
Fuck with me
Then I might just beat yo ass
Since a youngin
I been stuntin in the trap
If I rob you
You'll know, I don't use a mask

Bag it up, wrap it up
Really fast
I just count the cash
Sit back & laugh

All these haters salty man, They really mad
You the type to make a mill & still be sad

Written by:
Joseph Swerve

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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