She Gon’ Go lyrics
by Omega
[Intro]
Kam on the track
[Chorus: Earl Swavey]
All my n*ggas know is to get that dough
Yeah, I gotta keep a pole, know my wrist on froze
All my n*ggas know is to get that dough
Couple pints, pour a four in the Creme Faygo
White b*tch named Snow, she just wanna snort blow
One thing you gotta know, can't make a wife up out a ho
b*tch street prone, catch a date up off a phone
She don't do finger rolls, she a real three-oh-fo'
The b*tch gon' go
Asking questions 'bout yo' b*tch, the b*tch gon' go
Yeah, one thing about yo' b*tch, the b*tch gon' go
Ayy, acting tough with the homies, the homies gon' go
Got your b*tch on the pole
[Verse 1: Earl Swavey]
Shooters gon' go, n*ggas home on paroles
Send those demons to your home, n*ggas coming for your soul
[?] gang-bangin' on the low
Lil' b*tch [?] you gon' hold
Back on my bag, Versace snakes on my ass
[?] I'm addicted to cash
My foot on the gas, but my foot on they neck
I'ma f*ck up a check with yo' b*tch [?]
Gucci on my neck, she [?] sex
Probably took you on a date [?]
Purple or the 'Tec, know we keep it on deck
n*ggas tripping on the set, get hit with the TEC
All I ever known, this is all I ever knew
n*ggas flexing for the 'Gram, tryna make it look bool
Flame to the tennis shoes, and I gotta keep a tool
And I took that strap everyday right there to school
[Chorus: Earl Swavey]
All my n*ggas know is to get that dough
Yeah, I gotta keep a pole, know my wrist on froze
All my n*ggas know is to get that dough
Couple pints, pour a four in the Creme Faygo
White b*tch named Snow, she just wanna snort blow
One thing you gotta know, can't make a wife up out a ho
b*tch street prone, catch a date up off a phone
She don't do finger rolls, she a real three-oh-fo'
The b*tch gon' go
Asking questions 'bout yo' b*tch, the b*tch gon' go
Yeah, one thing about yo' b*tch, the b*tch gon' go
Ayy, acting tough with the homies, the homies gon' go
Got your b*tch on the pole, she gon' go
[Verse 2: Yhung T.O]
All of my Glizzies got extra extensions
Play close attention 'cause n*ggas be snitchin'
I don't want yo' b*tch, wouldn't take her to dinner
If I wanted yo' b*tch, I would probably send her
My shooters got tempers, boosters and strippers
I don't sip Clifford, neck cold as December
My b*tch got a temper, got killers and fibbers
Line yo' ass up like some clippers and strip you
Gang, I'm a member, got sauce like some tenders
My b*tch got some ass, it's soft and it's tender
My gun got a lemon, I squeeze it and hit ya
You cuffing that b*tch and she f*cked with my n*ggas
[Chorus: Earl Swavey]
All my n*ggas know is to get that dough
Yeah, I gotta keep a pole, know my wrist on froze
All my n*ggas know is to get that dough
Couple pints, pour a four in the Creme Faygo
White b*tch named Snow, she just wanna snort blow
One thing you gotta know, can't make a wife up out a ho
b*tch street prone, catch a date up off a phone
She don't do finger rolls, she a real three-oh-fo'
The b*tch gon' go
Asking questions 'bout yo' b*tch, the b*tch gon' go
Yeah, one thing about yo' b*tch, the b*tch gon' go
Ayy, acting tough with the homies, the homies gon' go
Got your b*tch on the pole, she gon' go