Young M.A. - Dripset

(Zombie on da track)

Yo, brodie
Yerr
Ayy man, we about to go to Miami, man
We about to go to the Yams, bro
I'm stressed out man
I need some love, man

Ayy, uh
Just drunk a half a bottle of that Hennessy, I'm wavy
Had to leave that bitch before she played me
My feelings hurt, I can't even lie that was my baby
But fuck love, love is just a bitch that never paid me
Then what'd you do? (What you did?)
Went and got a bag like a boss do
So next time you wanna have my heart it's gon cost you
It's Redlyfe, baby, but my heart blue (my heart blue)
My money number one, so listen hoe you just a part two (ooh)
So play your part, I ain't got no time for your feelings now
Landin' in Miami, rent the Rari, put the ceilin' down
(Skrrt, skrrt, skrrt, skrrt, skrrt, skrrt)

Uh, drip check (ooh, ooh)
Shades on (ooh), neck wet (ooh), wrist wet (okay, okay)
And I got that smile that'll make your bitch wet (hello)
In Miami like Santana town
Dipset, dipset, dipset, dipset
Dripset, dripset, dripset, dipset, ooh, uh

And I'm with my guys, all foreigns at the stop sign (skrrt, skrrt)
And we spinnin' blocks, got a watch where the opps hide (skrrt, skrrt)
Bad bitch, lookin like a pie, she on thot time (ooh, ooh)
Put Henny in her Mai Tai (ooh), now she on my time (hello)
Then I hit the bro up, like let's go up on a Sunday (yerr)
Five foreigns deep, gang hoggin' up the one way (yes)
LIV on a Sunday (ah), we ain't throwin' chump change (no)
Party on the yacht, couple thots and the fuckin' gang
We ain't got no worries, drinkin' Henny just to numb the pain (facts)
Big Cuban links, diamonds dancin' off the sun rays (VVs)

Ooh, ooh, drip check (ooh)
Shades on (ooh), neck wet (ooh), wrist wet (okay, okay)
And I got that smile that'll make your bitch wet (hello)
In Miami like Santana town
Dipset, dipset, dipset, dipset
Dripset, dripset, dripset, dipset, uh (ooh)

Jim Jones ballin' (ooh)
Big drip saucin' (hello)
Money and respect, got that Power like I'm Austin (facts)
Back end money, get like fifteen on the walk-in (that's 15K)
Fifteen niggas deep, tell them bouncers let my dogs in (let 'em in)
It's gon' be a problem if this Glock get to barkin' (boom-boom-baow)
We gon' turn the opp into dog shit (that's a fact)
Put a price on him like an auction (they don't want that)
My niggas walk shit, we don't talk shit (oh, no)
I collect a bag, give my brother Reem a portion
And we in them stores, came off tour with a fortune (let's spend that)
I'm tired of flexin' on 'em, it's exhausting (I'm tired)
Neck on faucet (ooh), bad bitches on it (ooh, ooh)

Ooh, ooh, drip check (okay, okay)
Shades on, neck wet (okay), wrist wet (okay, okay)
And I got that smile that'll make your bitch wet (ooh, ooh, ooh)
In Miami like Santana town (Zombie on da track)
Dipset, dipset, dripset, dipset
Dripset, dripset, dripset, dripset,
Dripset, dipset, dipset, dripset, dripset, dripset
Dripset, uh (ooh)

Flex, flex, flex

Written by:
Katorah Marrero, William Michael Coleman

Publisher:
Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, O/B/O DistroKid, Reservoir Media Management, Inc.

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