Blowin My High lyrics

[Verse 1]
b*tch you blowin' my high
She goin' bananas
I'm shippin' out P's to my boy in Atlanta
These b*tches say, "2z, you too hard to handle."
I keep it a buck when I'm on and off camera (Hol' on)
If I call you a b*tch, don't take the wrong manners (b*tch)
b*tch, I'm from Texas, that's part of my grammar
If it's up then it's up, we ain't signin' no treaty (Hol' on)
That little sh*t you flexin', we give to the needy (f*ck that)
We sell lots of green, my n*ggas sell hard
If rappin' don't work, then come f*ck with your boy
I don't pretend to be sh*t, b*tch this how I was born
I be f*ckin' on camera, I shoulda did porn
I remember back then, boy it was hard
Talkin' bout sh*t that we couldn't afford (Ayy)
That's when I turned up in that Honda Accord (Ayy)
I got me a little, then wanted some more (Ayy)
Got me a little then wanted some more guap (More guap)
Still gettin' money my people don't know 'bout (Hol' on)
Momma said, "baby you makin' me so proud" (Ayy, ayy)
Book you a show, we gon' come through and show out

[Bridge]
Ayy, ayy, ayy, hol' on
Book you a show we gon' come through and huh-huh
Ayy, ayy, ayy
[Verse 2]
My little cousin BJ, he love clappin' pistols
Beatin' that pus*y, I'm makin it whistle
Ain't feelin' you n*ggas, not even a little
Fruity-ass n*ggas be sweeter than skittles (Ayy)
Talkin' real sh*t when I'm writing these riddles (Hol' on)
I'm my own boss, you the man in the middle
My b*tch ass fat, I be watchin' it jiggle (boing)
Fat ass wood, b*tch look like a pickle
Could've popped me a chain with the pack money (n*gga)
Don't play with me n*gga go play with your children
I just started gettin' real rap money
It's comin' together, what a wonderful feelin' (Hol' on)
Got hoes left to right, they be callin' me daddy
It be hard to pick like some hair when it's nappy (Ayy)
Got this sh*t on my own and you got it from daddy (Ayy)
I send my b*tch to the store to get some more baggies (Ayy, ayy, ayy)
n*gga trippin', he must be off of the meth
I'm right-handed, but I shoot good with my left
b*tch trippin', she want some Prada and Louis
Little b*tch didn't know, I'm a dog like Scooby (Grr)
n*gga, I need it in twos, I'm 2z
Thought I was steamin', the way that b*tch blew me
Spittin' this sh*t, got me wipin' up loogies
We was little kids, tryna' smoke momma doobies
When some good sh*t happened, it always got ruined (Hol' on)
Wouldn't know how to win if it wasn't for losin' (Hol' on)
Didn't have a home, we was always movin' (Hol' on)
Didn't have a point, it was always proven (Hol' on)
I'm goin' up like I'm jumpin' for tip-off (Ayy)
Three, two, one, watch a young n*gga lift off (Three, two, one)
Pulled down my pants show my ass, got 'em p*ssed off
Pulled down my pants show my ass, got 'em p*ssed off
Hold on, hold on (Ayy)