LOST REMIX lyrics

[Intro]
Je t'aime Milanezie
Dammit, LUNA

[Verse 1: TraceyLovePecuilar]
She want me and I don't want her
n*ggas hate on me 'cause my money longer
Xan' got me sky-walker
It's lust so I ain't even love her
So, you know I had to f*ckin' dub her
We f*ck, she don't want to use the rubber
Send her home, she caught a f*ckin' Uber
That was yo' b*tch so I had to use her (Dammit, LUNA)
That was yo' b*tch so I had to take it (Je t'aime Milanezie)
Smoking gas, roll the f*ckin' paper
[?] he walk with a [?]
Might take his chain , in the f*ckin' dark
I got a .9, he don't wanna [?]
He want a linе, I'ma have to tax
He smokin' mid, not no f*ckin' Thrax
She just want lovе, I want f*cking racks
I'm on a trip, boy, I stay relaxed
I'ma smoke this gas 'til my lungs collapse
You wanted exotic so I had to tax
I'm f*cking yo' b*tch and I'm giving her back
Gas, n*gga, flexing the bag
I hop in that coupe, and you know it's all black
f*ck up that money, then bounce back
Break that b*tch off like a f*ckin' Kit-Kat
Claiming he gang but he not with that
[Verse 2: KA$HDAMI]
Fah, fah, fah
Shawty so bad, tell her come over
b*tch, I'm high, I can't be sober
Riding in a stolen Rover
f*ck 12, I cannot pull over (On God)
b*tch, what the f*ck? My tank on E
Now I'm running from the damn police (Fah, fah, fah)
If it's up, then it's stuck on me
Glock .9 with the f*cking beam
Shawty so bad and she from Chicago
You know that I'm putting in work, no trabajo
Ten toes down, n*gga, that's my motto
Glock get to singing like Demi Lovato
R.I.P. DJ, my f*cking hermano
You know I'm skipping classes with my b*tch (On God)
You know this FN blasting for my b*tch
He wanna [?], I'ma text him the 'zip (Fah, fah)
But f*ck all of that, I was in school had to zip up my duffle bag
You n*ggas fu, I say, "Ask him, "What's up with that?""
Shawty so bad so you know that I'm cuffing that
I spend a band, I'ma make it right back
I spend a band, I'ma make it right back (Fah, fah)
I spend a band imma make it right ba—

[Outro: KA$HDAMI]
Shawty so bad, tell her come over
b*tch, I'm high, I can't be sober
Riding in a stolen Rover
f*ck 12, I cannot pull over (On God)
b*tch, what the f*ck? My tank on E
Now I'm running from the damn police (Fah, fah, fah)
If it's up, then it's stuck on me
Glock .9 with the f*cking beam
Shawty so bad and she from Chicago
You know that I'm putting in work, no trabajo
Ten toes down, n*gga, that's my motto
Glock get to singing like Demi Lovato
R.I.P. DJ, my f*cking hermano
You know I'm skipping classes with my b*tch (On God)
You know this FN blasting for my b*tch
He wanna [?], I'ma text him the 'zip (Fah, fah)
But fu—