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letra de big b's - lud foe

[intro]
(kid wond3r, you made this beat?)
b-tch (ayy), b-tch, b-tch, b-tch, b-tch (ayy, ayy)

[chorus]
went to the store, left the stove runnin’
got a clip full of hot sh-t, let you hold somethin’
high speed in a hot whip, b-tch, my car runnin’
got her knees in my carpet tryna blow somethin’
ride ’round in a lambo and i’m ho huntin’
to the po-po, i’m john doe, you don’t know nothin’
took a bomb dope, finger-l!ckin’, got your nose runnin’
it’s an f on all four of my rims, hundred

[verse 1]
f-ck the job huntin’, come on, get this pyrex money
junkie died in the traphouse, traphouse huntin’
new bentley, bucci gang, big b truck
throw them b’s up
let’s get high, burn them trees up
roll some weed up
suck it sloppy, scr-pe your knees up
b-tches please us
shawty gang pickin’ heats up
k!llers greet us
i don’t wanna hit your reefer, that’s a chiefer
i just pulled up in a zebra with a cheetah
she told me to shove it deeper, she’s a keeper
left my jewelry in the freezer, patek philippe-a
thick b-tch just walked past with a nice ass
do a hit, then i skrrt past, then i skrrt past
thick b-tch, i’m finna murk her lil’ skirt ass
broke b-tch talk sh-t with her lil’ purse ass
[chorus]
went to the store, left the stove runnin’
got a clip full of hot sh-t, let you hold somethin’
high speed in a hot whip, b-tch, my car runnin’
got her knees in my carpet tryna blow somethin’
ride ’round in a lambo and i’m ho huntin’
to the po-po, i’m john doe, you don’t know nothin’
took a bomb dope, finger-l!ckin’, got your nose runnin’
it’s an f on all four of my rims, hundred

[verse 2]
private jets, only boarding flights if it’s first class
scratch a b-tch off a checklist, i already smashed
gucci flags, balmain denim sag, goyard shopping bag
shoot that p-ssy n-gga in his face, make him see that flash
bird flipper, i just f-cked a stripper, hundred dollar tipper
hit the mall, then leave with it all like a shoplifter
chef ‘ardee, tryna spring a pot, i’m a pot whipper
turn your house into a vacant lot, hundred shots in it
f-ck the club if they ain’t tryna let us bring no glocks in it
f-ck the time, i just bought a rollie, it got rocks in it
that’s a traphouse, but you ain’t even got no pots in it
i ain’t got no room in my pocket, i got knots in it

- lud foe

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