Who Better lyrics

[Chorus]
30 shots or better, I cannot flock with a feather
I cannot rock with a teller, I'm giving out smoke, whoever
I'mma just give her the D, f*cking a chocolate b*tch, Nutella
All of these racks on me, it got your b*tch doing whatever I tell her
I'm in LA, AP in the coupe, I'm whipping a white Panamera
I see a opp, then I gotta shoot, you know I'mma get 'em together
[?] with the Porsche, I give it to Su, I'm boutta go hop in a Tesla
View all my sh*t, they don't have a clue, I'm f*cking em up, who better? Uh

[Verse 1]
b*tch I'm smooth, clever, uh, pulling n*ggas cards like levers, uh
Chopper rip parts they sever, uh, chase a n*gga down I'mma catch him, uh
All face shots, vest him, say you a savage then I gotta test him, uh
If he ain't right, left him, I see a opp and you know I'mma stretch him, uh
I ain't gone lie, sh*t been crazy I'm getting the top while I'm texting, uh
I just smoked a half a P but I ain't been doing no stressing, uh
My b*tch saying, she gone leave b*tch I was a dog when I met you, uh
I ain't gone lie, if she leave, I might put her friend on the schedule, uh
I'm getting high and I'm smoking on medical
n*ggas be fake gotta watch what they telling you
I don't wanna link if it ain't nothing sexual
Step on a b*tch put the gang on a pedestal
I make your b*tch eat me up like an edible
f*cking her face and she say I'm incredible
n*ggas be talking and snitching they federal
Every lil' thing that I say it be credible
[Chorus]
30 shots or better, I cannot flock with a feather
I cannot rock with a teller, I'm giving out smoke, whoever
I'mma just give her the D, f*cking a chocolate b*tch, Nutella
All of these racks on me, it got your b*tch doing whatever I tell her
I'm in LA, AP in the coupe, I'm whipping a white Panamera
I see a opp, then I gotta shoot, you know I'mma get 'em together
[?] with the Porsche, I give it to Su, I'm boutta go hop in a Tesla
View all my sh*t, they don't have a clue, I'm f*cking em up, who better?

[Verse 2]
Uh, look, hop in the benz, and hop in the wraith
Up in the ceiling with stars and space
All of my n*ggas just rob and take
All of your n*ggas be fraud and fake
And they be riding in cars with jakes
I met your girl I ain't f*cked in a minute
Tell your b*tch I need the top today
I'm tryna start a race, then slide on the trey, we popping out cars and spray
Ain't on your block, okay, I'm right at your crib, yeah I'mma just park and wait
n*ggas be talking that sh*t, like they from the struggle but I've seen the darkest day
I'm on the road to fame, but I'm not a fan, yeah I took the hardest way
Uh, yeah, say I'm a b*tch they lying
Always toting my iron, and I don't f*ck with no 9's
n*ggas talking bout they taking chains, reach for my sh*t you dying
50 shot take ain't got no aim, cook em like grease deep fry em, uh
[Chorus]
30 shots or better, I cannot flock with a feather
I cannot rock with a teller, I'm giving out smoke, whoever
I'mma just give her the D, f*cking a chocolate b*tch, Nutella
All of these racks on me, it got your b*tch doing whatever I tell her
I'm in LA, AP in the coupe, I'm whipping a white Panamera
I see a opp, then I gotta shoot, you know I'mma get 'em together
[?] with the Porsche, I give it to Su, I'm boutta go hop in a Tesla
View all my sh*t, they don't have a clue, I'm f*cking em up, who better?