Curtis Lee - Bleak

Shorty say that she about you
Tell that bitch to let you hol' something
All them boys you got around you
Boy them niggas better know something
Tell that boy to get a bag
Tell em count that shit in cash
Tell em make sure he pay the tab so I don't gotta ask

Is that yo chick
Getting fucked up tryna get hit by another man kiddd
Is that yo bitch
On the block throwing up west side, the whole trap done hit
Is that yo chick
On the gram straight lookin like Pam with another man kid
Is that yo bitch?
Why you mad? I'm the fucking man
You chose a fan, trick

Nigga what? (Nigga what)
Nigga who? (Who dat is)
We got drugs (Sauce sauce)
In the coop (Skrrrt)
Throw it up (West side,west side)
Alley oop (Ready?)
Bitch I came with the plug
And a couple of niggas that shoot
(Boop, boop, gunshot)

She just hit the back from sippin
Henny got me trippin
Nigga I be pimpin
Back to back like Scottie Pippen
I be on that bull, but you see how I'm drippin
Gorgeous Gangsta wit the hair out
Drop the top, let it air out
I ain't got time for no iffy bitch seething up niggas
Cause that's all they care about
We got it lit like a cigarette
I ain't just hot on the internet
I don't let bitches get in all they words when we talkin
Like girl are you finished yet?
Fuck was you thinking?
Quit fucking with bums
Dog who do yo banking?
Better stay woke
Stop fucking them bitches that play broke (Watch em)

Shorty say that she about you
Tell that bitch to let you hol' something
All them boys you got around you
Boy them niggas better know something
Tell that boy to get a bag
Tell em count that shit in cash
Tell em make sure he pay the tab so I don't gotta ask

Is that yo chick
Getting fucked up tryna get hit by another man kiddd
Is that yo bitch
On the block throwing up west side, the whole trap done hit
Is that yo chick
On the gram straight lookin like Pam with another man kid
Is that yo bitch?
Why you mad? I'm the fucking man
You chose a fan, trick

Man these niggas gon play them self
That nigga need some help
That nigga bad as fuck
Yeah he hard headed mama need a belt
Look at the news
Look what they choose
They thought it was gang gang
Boy I'm confused
How y'all get caught?
And ain't get the same thing?
Niggas ain't real they be frontin
Girl watch who you fucking
Guilty by association
End up like that nigga you you suckin
Man watch all these bitches you cuffing
She tell you she cumin
She burning more than them backwoods
You thought it was loving
That bitch ain't living no nigga
She just in love with the money (Yeah yeah)
Booking info, hit her dm
I think she selling that cutty (Yeah)
Nice guys pay the fee
Rich Niggas fuck for free
Don't hate on the playa
Hate on the game
I'm feeling Bleak (Ehhh)

Written by:
Curtis Nolen

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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