Jamaal Tinsley lyrics

Yeah
Yeah
Yeah

[Hook: Quadie Diesel]
Walked in this b*tch, three cards in my pocket
Three b*tches with me, give a f*ck 'bout ya bands
Broke n*gga talkin, got lint in his wallet
You b*tchin' and you always got out ya hand
Humpin' this b*tch, got her crunch in the whip
And I'm di*kin' her, sound like I'm steppin' on cans
This b*tch keep askin' why my eyes so little
These boomers and xannies got me in a trance
n*ggas be bettin' and hatin' got these n*ggas sweatin'
Like somebody who turned off the fan
Set your AC in the Airbnb
And we got this b*tch jumpin' like NBA Jam
Plenty of Ps of the TH of C
I've been servin' for years, I got broccoli likе Dram
Plenty of b*tches want show me thеy pink
I got camo all on me, I'm feelin' like Cam

[Verse 1: Quadie Diesel]
In this b*tch floatin' like I don't got weight
With my "Please do not play, well I told you how many"
Funny I said I got weight, when I flooded your block
And I left, everybody got skinny
I got a homie that shoot, but I don't know his name
But he shoot, so I just call him Jimmy
I just popped two; One was yellow, one blue
And I'm walkin' all funny and movin' so flimsy

[Hook: Quadie Diesel]
I got the handle Just like Jamaal Tinsley
Don't know Rihanna, came up off the fenty
Spin it right back if the boy try to skimp me
Pulled up on your b*tch, she said "Can you pimp me?"
She said you talkin' you soft just like Gently
I just pulled up with a truck like I'm Penske
Open it up and he seen it was empty
I got the fire but don't try and attemp' me
I got the handle Just like Jamaal Tinsley
Don't know Rihanna, came up off the fenty
Spin it right back if the boy try to skimp me
Pulled up on your b*tch, she said "Can you pimp me?"
She said you talkin' you soft just like Gently
I just pulled up with a truck like I'm Penske
Open it up and he seen it was empty
I got the fire but don't try and attemp' me
Walked in this b*tch, three cards in my pocket
Three b*tches with me, give a f*ck 'bout ya bands
Broke n*gga talkin, got lint in his wallet
You b*tchin' and you always got out ya hand
Humpin' this b*tch, got her crunch in the whip
And I'm di*kin' her, sound like I'm steppin' on cans
This b*tch keep askin' why my eyes so little
These boomers and xannies got me in a trance
n*ggas be bettin' and hatin' got these n*ggas sweatin'
Like somebody who turned off the fan
Set your AC in the Airbnb
And we got this b*tch jumpin' like NBA Jam
Plenty of Ps of the TH of C
I've been servin' for years, I got broccoli like Dram
Plenty of b*tches want show me they pink
I got camo all on me, I'm feelin' like Cam

[Verse 2: Ken Masters]
Blue bag, blue flag, everything indigo
I got the sack in the satchel, it's finna go
I'm on the block doin' plays, it's a give and go
Pack smell like feet, he just put the [?} in the toes
My plug get excited all for my arrival
He stand up he, shoutin' and dancin'
When I serve him, he think that it's Christmas
But he don't know that he just met with the Krampus
I made UD, I'm playin' the campus
A bag full of xans and I'm servin' the candies
f*ck this b*tch on the two[?] OnlyFans
But keep my face in it, I'm servin' the candids
Hit the DM be with this b*tch wrestlin'
Hittin' it raw, so this Summer I'm Slammin'
BOA[?] TD[?] Chevy, I'm scammin'
I walk in this b*tch, with a eagle, I'm prancin'
[Hook: Quadie Diesel]
I got the handle Just like Jamaal Tinsley
Don't know Rihanna, came up off the fenty
Spin it right back if the boy try to skimp me
Pulled up on your b*tch, she said "Can you pimp me?"
She said you talkin' you soft just like Gently
I just pulled up with a truck like I'm Penske
Open it up and he seen it was empty
I got the fire but don't try and attemp' me

Walked in this b*tch, three cards in my pocket
Three b*tches with me, give a f*ck 'bout ya bands
Broke n*gga talkin, got lint in his wallet
You b*tchin' and you always got out ya hand
Humpin' this b*tch, got her crunch in the whip
And I'm di*kin' her, sound like I'm steppin' on cans
This b*tch keep askin' why my eyes so little
These boomers and xannies got me in a trance
n*ggas be bettin' and hatin' got these n*ggas sweatin'
Like somebody who turned off the fan
Set your AC in the Airbnb
And we got this b*tch jumpin' like NBA Jam
Plenty of Ps of the TH of C
I've been servin' for years, I got broccoli like Dram
Plenty of b*tches want show me they pink
I got camo all on me, I'm feelin' like Cam

[Verse 3: Quadie Diesel]
[?] The projects, they know how I'm rockin'
And that's why they clock in
These n*ggas be pus*y, She do him like stockins'[?]
Pull up in the Uber, they think I'm Yung Joc'n
I used to sell base, like the Speakers, was Knockin'
Don't make me call Row 25[?] on ya noggin
Pull up on ya hoe, and she smell me, I'm poppin'
Just started a biz; and they like it, they coppin'
Just copped me some xannies and flooded ya projects
Just copped me some xannies, I'm hopin' they real
Just copped me some xannies, I hope they don't kill
You big bracc[?] just threw back, got me spinnin' like wills
You big bracc[?] just threw back, got me swimmin' like seals
I just blast in that b*tch and she diggin' my spells
I spend back on that b*tch and you know it's a kill
I just signed 'em, finessed 'em, I love how it feels
That lil trap don't mean sh*t to me, n*ggas too lil
Tell that b*tch to keep twekin, I like how it shake
This lil b*tch in her burk[?] and I hope it don't break
When I di*k her she runnin' like she heard the jakes
When I di*k her it's rum[?] but I make it earthquake
Had enough of that cake, get right back to the cake
If they droppin' they prices, I up it like stakes
Why n*ggas wanna talk?
How many you bought?
It don't matter, I gotchu
You knew they was fake
They know how I'm rockin'
And that's why they clock in