Drill Lyrics

Energy made this one

J3 mix it

Baby don't leave me why would go?

You said heart is cold now

I'm glad that you know

That boy he ain't no soldier

We wiping his nose

Man this life ain't for sure

So I ride with a pole yeah

We get to the cash now

I'm wrapping in bands

Strapped up at the party

I ain't even tryna dance

Walked in looking mean

Yea I had on mask

Wockiana my cup

Man I see that boy bluff

Yea I see that boy

Had to get it from the mud lil nigga

Hard to get out from slumps lil nigga

Cooking up with the Pyrex

My Broski whip it in the Pyrex yeah yeah

Emmy quanz getting money now

Why these young niggas they hate

In the booth I be spitting bars

I be spitting facts now I'm paid

Uh

How I get to the cheese

Spitting rhymes so neatly

Boy ur shordy got my songs on repeat

Every night we getting freaky

Shordy wan play with my dicky

You ain't even know cause she's sneaky

If she get caught she ain't squealing

For Emmy quanz she be Feening

Yeah I get to bag

How he do it so quick

Niggas they hate

Throw dirt on my name

Tryna drive me insane

Why this niggas lie

He lied on the gang

I thought you bro

I thought you bro

Man this niggas sum hoes

All these Niggas turn foes

All these niggas turn foes

All these niggas be mad cause

I be racing them to the bag (for real

Oh that's ur shordy boy

I ain't even know she was a fan(oh my god

How we cook that shit boy

We whip up in the pan( Oh my god

From the dark side nigga

We be turning niggas into mans(On god

I'm not a rat but nigga

I be getting these cheese(For real

Walked in the store told

My jeweller just to ice my team (For real

Now the girls calls

They be like emmy quanz

Put your girl on fleek (for real

I be spitting facts

I be spitting bars

Listen when I speak(for real

See I ran the cash emmy quanz

Yea I get to the bag

Yea I ran to the bag

That's why pants they be sagged

Cause I'm stuffing em racks

Remember days I was moving them packs

Now theses shordies they singing my tracks

If you want a feature I'm taxing

I get to the bag so easy

Emmy quanz do it so neatly

All my haters they watch me on tv

Now the the water I'm drinking is Fiji

They used to hate on da gang

They be telling lies to the hoes

Not a stripper but I keep a pole

Mama pray for me I'm on the roads

It's hard to get to the cash

When I get the bag I do

The money dance

I Ain't no sugar daddy

But these bitches

Calling me the money man

Run a nigga down

pow pow

Made that boy

Do the running man

Hit him up in his matatata

He can't do the running man

Oh my diamonds are cold(Woah

The dt go beep beep beep

When they mention my name

Tell em suck my dick dick dick

Oh u want fuck with bro

She a mother fucking hoe hoe hoe (Treash

The jakes kicked down door

They said get on floor floor floor