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letra de so much cheese [sped up] - summrs

[intro]
yeah-yeah-yeah, yeah
who they wanna be? i’m who they wanna be (yeah-yeah-yeah, yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah, yeah)
b-tch, yeah-yeah-yeah, yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah, yeah (bird business supremacy)
yeah-yeah-yeah, yeah, yeah-yeah-yeah, yeah
i got so much f-ckin’ cheese, cheese

[pre-chorus]
who these n-ggas wanna be? they wanna be me
clutchin’ thе 43x, my n-ggas shoot from the three

[chorus]
i got so much f-ckin’ cheese, i got so much f-ckin’ cheese
i got so much f-ckin’ cheesе, b-tch, my pockets lookin’ obese
i got so much f-ckin’ cheese
everything these n-ggas wear, i swear that sh-t be so cheap

[verse 1]
i got gunners everywhere, everywhere i be deep, yeah
kan just went srt, he can’t control that b-tch, he should’ve bought him a f-ckin’ jeep
dior jeans with that cheese, dior jeans with no crease
can’t give these n-ggas peace, glock 27 got a f-ckin’—
can’t say it on this b-tch but the way that b-tch sound, it’s a glitch
if i get caught with this b-tch, you know lil’ rino gotta go sit
hang with all my f-ckin’ dawgs, make them n-ggas go sick
spider ‘rari crawlin’ walls, know these n-ggas be sick
i don’t want no f-ckin’ rick but i hit my dance like i’m lil’ rick
she got a lot of ass up in them pants, i like the way that b-tch sit
amg move fast, they like, “where the f-ck this boy went?”
sold that n-gga some fent’ ’cause that b-tch had me bent
my cup cost a n-gga rent, literally
look at my muhf-ckin’ jacket, that b-tch came from italy
cut off that b-tch two years ago, i know that that b-tch missin’ me
soon as your stupid ass shoot at me, you better hit at me
i’m high on the motherf-cking holidays, i’m off of that christmas tree
i just met a new plug at the busy bee
all these n-ggas do is mug ’cause they hate on me
put that b-tch in a blunt
all we do is smoke runtz, havin’ fun
if my n-gga get caught with that gun, he on the run
yeah, i’m high in the sky and i don’t know why (i don’t know why)
i’m chillin’ with god, look me in my eyes, see, you see the devil
look at my bezel, vvs1 all on my wrist, you not on my level (uh)
[chorus]
i got so much f-ckin’ cheese, i got so much f-ckin’ cheese
i got so much f-ckin’ cheese, b-tch, my pockets lookin’ obese
i got so much f-ckin’ cheese
everything these n-ggas wear, i swear that sh-t be so cheap

[verse 2]
schedule ii boys, drug business
i just popped a motherf-ckin’ pill and this b-tch got me too lifted
you could say that i’m a pill head, i don’t sip red
i’m lyin’, i do, my stupid ass had to catch my head

[outro]
had to catch my head
catch my head

- summrs

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