Ready to Eat lyrics

[Chorus]
My n*gga gon' ride for me
Put on they swimming trunks, slide for me
b*tch, we ain't worried 'bout beef
My shooters fat and they ready to eat
Lean back in the seat, she spaghetti the D
These n*ggas ain't shooters, they tellin' on me
Aim at your bell, taco filling the scene
I'm pulling my pants up, I'm ready to swing (Ready to swing, ready to swing)

[Verse 1]
I'm ready to swing on a b*tch
If it go left, up the thing on a b*tch
She in love with these balls, put a ring on a b*tch
Iced-out nipple piercings, I put that bling on her tits, n*gga
These choppers real, no orange tips, n*gga
Every month, I go six-figures
We need more straps, b*tch, we getting richer
We real killers, never artificial
Step back and pop like I'm Harden (Harden)
She see the print in the joggers (Joggers)
Thirty-two shots in the joggers (Joggers)
These b*tches look good on TV, but they fooling like it's McDonalds (Like it's McDonalds)
We play with them just like pianos
On the weed farm with Old MacDonald (Donald)
[Chorus]
My n*gga gon' ride for me
Put on they swimming trunks, slide for me
b*tch, we ain't worried 'bout beef
My shooters fat and they ready to eat
Lean back in the seat, she spaghetti the D
These n*ggas ain't shooters, they tellin' on me
Aim at your bell, tacos filling the scene

[Verse 2]
I flooded my pockets with parmesan cheese
Tats on his face, he tryna look throwed
Behind those tattoos, I know he a ho
Pull up with that .40, my sh*t getting old
If I tell him don't move, that boy striking that pose
2016, we striking for clothes
Flathead in my pocket, we striking for poles
You loving these b*tches, you mad 'bout some hoes
n*gga trying to get some holes 'bout some hoes
n*gga trying to get some smoke by the throat
I was born when a squid f*cked a G.O.A.T
When it's wintertime, we put sticks in our coats (Sticks in our coats, yeah)

[Chorus]
My n*gga gon' ride for me
Put on they swimming trunks, slide for me
b*tch, we ain't worried 'bout beef
My shooters fat and they ready to eat
Lean back in the seat, she spaghetti the D
These n*ggas ain't shooters, they tellin' on me
Aim at your bell, tacos filling the scene
I'm pulling my pants up, I'm ready to swing (Ready to swing, ready to swing)