Rnb Lyrics - Flexin'

Rnb - Flexin'

I just left racks at the bank
Hated on me when I’m grinding for millions
Ima pull up in a tank
Drippin cuz I know u can’t
I can’t fuck her she a skank
And you know I keep it realer than real I probably won’t remember her name
Faded I don’t know a thing
Try me get shot in the brain
Ima just erase the problem
F&N gone and solve em
Talk to much put em on mute
Yeah she bad she cute
Clothes gotta match the shoes
Give her old nigga da blues
I’m in this bitch feeling rude, play with the tool, scoop dat young nigga no spoon
Hop out with all of my jewels, fresher Than you, I can get down with the crew
I put in work with my niggas we cool
I cannot fake it I’m living no room
Jump out the whip with a baddie or two
High off the pills I took off to the moon
Call her a taxi
I cannot trust her she nasty
Pull up in a ghost
Mac game fantastic
RnB made her forget her nigga
Teaching like I got a masters
Hundreds of cash no interest nigga
Rollie is golden for passion
I just left racks at the bank
Hated on me when I’m grinding for millions
Ima pull up in a tank
Drippin cuz I know u can’t
I can’t fuck her she a skank
And you know I keep it realer than real I probably won’t remember her name
Faded I don’t know a thing
Try me get shot in the brain
Ima just erase the problem
F&N gone and solve em
Talk to much put em on mute
Yeah she bad she cute
Clothes gotta match the shoes
Give her old nigga the blues
Aye, aye
Count it up fast til I reach a million
Aye, aye
Stealing my drip I call u my children
Ohh, yeah
Sipping no tipping I leave her wit nothing
Money my passion i practice for Bucks
I work so hard but never give up
And it’s up
You stuck
My glock name Greg oden he a bust
I get the bread loaf wit the crust
Running like usain catchin up
I am not regular u can’t touch
I put my heart in it now I’m clutch
Tank in the cut u know fucked
I just left racks at the bank
Hated on me when I’m grinding for millions
Ima pull up in a tank
Drippin cuz I know u can’t
I can’t fuck her she a skank
And you know I keep it realer than real I probably won’t remember her name
Faded I don’t know a thing
Try me get shot in the brain
Ima just erase the problem
F&N gone and solve em
Talk to much put em on mute
Yeah she bad she cute
Clothes gotta match the shoes
Give her old nigga the blues

Written by:
Ryan Brown

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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