​copy my drip lyrics

by

DDG


[Intro]
(And this beat from Cash, not from YouTube)

[Chorus]
b*tch
f*ck with me, I'll f*ck 'round and I'll f*ck your b*tch
He ain't do his research, he ain't know I'm lit
Plain black T-shirt with no logo, he ain't know this Rick
Huh, I'm like, "Where your ho go?" He ain't know I hit
I'ma hit the road, go city to city 'til I get rich
These hoes on go, she hop on the bus and then get clipped
Got caught with a pole, but the judge gave me a slap on the wrist
Spend the money on clothes, gotta be a rich n*gga to copy my drip

[Verse 1]
I just had a son, and this sh*t is so damn fun (Uh-huh)
Gotta keep it safe, I done locked up all my guns (Uh-huh)
We countin' bread and these n*ggas countin' crumbs (Uh-huh)
I want some head 'fore I get up in them buns
n*gga, that's mandatory, I pulled up in a Maybach, mm
Yeah, that's end of story (Ooh)
You know what I did, I hope this b*tch don't put me on Maury ('Kay)
I hit and I slid, this b*tch came back just like a chorus (Ooh)
And that pus*y ain't mid, I don't wanna pull out, but I can't afford it (Can't afford it)

[Chorus]
f*ck with me, I'll f*ck 'round and I'll f*ck your b*tch
He ain't do his research, he ain't know I'm lit
Plain black T-shirt with no logo, he ain't know this Rick
Huh, I'm like, "Where your ho go?" He ain't know I hit
I'ma hit the road, go city to city 'til I get rich
These hoes on go, she hop on the bus and then get clipped
Got caught with a pole, but the judge gave me a slap on the wrist
Spend the money on clothes, gotta be a rich n*gga to copy my drip
[Verse 2]
Ain't nothin' cheap on me, these jeans Balenciaga (Uh-huh)
I keep three zeros behind every single comma, yeah, okay
I got a partner, not no f*ckin' baby mama (Uh-huh)
They ask me when we gon' get married, when we wanna, yeah, okay
If you a n*gga in my business, then you gay
My music streamin' and you mad, I feel your rage
I just went gold like a bottle of Ace of Spades, uh
Can't hit no hoes 'cause I love my

[Chorus]
b*tch
f*ck with me, I'll f*ck 'round and I'll f*ck your b*tch
He ain't do his research, he ain't know I'm lit
Plain black T-shirt with no logo, he ain't know this Rick
Huh, I'm like, "Where your ho go?" He ain't know I hit
I'ma hit the road, go city to city 'til I get rich
These hoes on go, she hop on the bus and then get clipped
Got caught with a pole, but the judge gave me a slap on the wrist
Spend the money on clothes, gotta be a rich n*gga to copy my drip
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #
Copyright © 2012 - 2021 BeeLyrics.Net