D'wavey - Fetty

I die for the Fetty
My queen gon trap for me yeah I feel like Fetty
My bro keep saying drop that heat
I be like aight already
But they ain't ready
Bro was selling Becky
They had him locked up for a minute
Let him out already
Bro go crazy with the rap
Already made a AP of the trap
If I tell them go they go
I'm sipping on, I'm sipping on OJ and gin
What type of shit you on
Keisha Becky had them both naked
I was running reckless made some now I'm never stressing
That money make money that's how it is
And I'm gon die for my brother that's how I feel
These rappers acting like they be in the field
Who you shot who you killed whats the deal
And ima get it how I live too
I heard my brothers double up on her now that's your boo
I think that's funny really but nothing funny really
When it comes to that money
Nothing funny really
When it comes to that money
Can't even trust my friends told me go chase it
When it comes to the broads
Cant even cuff nobody they too basic
Taste it she wanna taste it
I don't even want her my bro done slayed it
Getting super high smoking on cherry pie fruity
I gave my heart to you and you don't want it
In love with the money girl you a goner
Still in the city smoking on marijuana
U talk u a shooter Brody you ain't a soldier
And just like your clothes from China
I mean they fake if you ain't catch it
Double g belt
Balenciaga shoes
I just need a rolley brody yeah thats my mood

Written by:
Derick Stödberg

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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D'wavey

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