wagwan lyrics

[Intro]
Wagwan

[Chorus]
Wagwan, n*gga, what goin'? (What goin'?)
My pants sagging, my gun showing
My money way more greener than lawns
I go bad boy, Martin Lawrence
I got a bad b*tch, she a foreign
I'm up top n*gga in New York
And my big bro just came from court
I got a stack full of all ones
I'm with some pretty hoes having fun
I'm an Italian, dripping in Milan
I only smoke 41, don't want no Runtz
I'm moving state to state, I'm on the run
That why I hate to face it, ain't a front
That's why I hate these n*ggas, they ain't nothing
That's why I hate these b*tches, they ain't nothing

[Verse]
I'm getting paid, no, I can't be sad
f*cking this b*tch and I'm breaking her back
Came through with a whole lot of cash
Came through with a whole lot of weed
To smoke on
And my diamonds stay getting freeze
They way too cold, they on snow cone
No, I'm not Quavo but, baby, I count up by thе hunchos
And I'm way too lit
If I pop out with this b*tch, can't go through the front door
And she way too wet, whеn I hop up in this b*tch, I need a poncho
I ain't even tryna talk if it ain't about money, I can't hear it
I ain't even tryna f*ck with that lil' b*tch if she ain't serious
CELINE, Chanel, when you ask for the fashion demon, it ring a bell
No, I'm not playing fair, I spent so much on this ring, I'm kind of embarrassed
I don't even like to do too much
My b*tch, she do too much but I don't care
I'm sipping on codeine
Counting up money while this b*tch do my hair
[Chorus]
Wagwan, n*gga, what goin'?
My pants sagging, my gun showing
My money way more greener than lawns
I go bad boy, Martin Lawrence
I got a bad b*tch, she a foreign
I'm up top n*gga in New York
And my big bro just came from court
I got a stack full of all ones
I'm with some pretty hoes having fun
I'm an Italian, dripping in Milan
I only smoke 41, don't want no Runtz
I'm moving state to state, I'm on the run
That why I hate to face it, ain't a front
That's why I hate these n*ggas, they ain't nothing
That's why I hate these b*tches they ain't nothing
Wagwan, n*gga, what goin'?
My pants sagging, my gun showing
My money way more greener than lawns
I go bad boy, Martin Lawrence
I got a bad b*tch, she a foreign
I'm up top n*gga in New York
And my big bro just came from court
I got a stack full of all ones
I'm with some pretty hoes having fun
I'm an Italian, dripping in Milan
I only smoke 41, don't want no Runtz
I'm moving state to state, I'm on the run
That why I hate to face it, ain't a front
That's why I hate these n*ggas, they ain't nothing
That's why I hate these b*tches, they ain't nothing