777 lyrics

[Intro: Veeze & Tay B]
(Green light)
I forgot what I was doin', I started listenin' to that b*tch again
Yeah
Yeah, all facts, lil' n*gga
You know what the f*ck goin' on, boy
Real rich n*ggas, man, you know
Yeah (Hope I got you, you know that)
Yeah
(f*ck, n*gga)

[Verse 1: Veeze]
Up a roll on a rap b*tch, bet it shut her up (Shh)
Cheap b*tch tryna f*ck on me, it ain't addin' up (It ain't addin' up)
In the truck starin' at the stars while the sun come up (Yeah)
You can never be my right hand, that's my double cup (My double)
I'm sippin' drank, diamonds clear like Grey Goose (Huh?)
I did like the b*tch 'til she said she f*cked Tay too (Man)
Tell that b*tch pull up with the BJ like Tay do (Yeah)
Real millionaires, it ain't too much we can't do (Swear to God)
I know a n*gga use the Greyhound make the gray move (Huh?)
Catch an opp, tighten his ass up like his braces loose
Rich b*tch with me, she got pointers in her chain too (Yeah)
This a mob meeting, only bosses at the table

[Verse 2: Tay B]
Yeah, lately, I been bring racks out just to f*ck 'em up (Hmm)
I'm only puttin' chains on my neck that's a hundred-plus (It's crazy)
b*tches callin' me they best friend for a cover-up (It's crazy)
Took a b*tch shoppin', f*ck the tag, I just rung it up (Yeah)
Every b*tch wanna go down since I'm goin' up (Hmm)
Last night I f*cked seven hoes, so I throw it up (Hmm)
Spent three hundred on a plain jane, I guess I'm growin' up (Hmm)
Got a pretty b*tch rollin' weed while I'm pourin' up (While I'm pourin' up)
I just counted up two million cash, I don't mean to brag
Now everybody wanna ask, they used to put me last
I can hit the jeweler with no money, put it on my tab
On her period, she askin' me to f*ck her in her ass (What?)
She keep askin' for my sign, baby, I'm a Sag' (Sag')
Half man, half horse, but I drive a Lam' (Hmm)
Every car got F's, I'm never out of gas
You wanna be in Lamborghini Boys, you gotta holla at Wham (Holla at Wham)
Hit a n*gga block and spin, spin, I'm 'bout to holla at Dan
Hatin' n*gga playin' all my songs, how you not a fan?
When I was younger, all my n*ggas was on Telegram
I was sittin' in the trap tryna sell a gram (On God)
Now the load way too big to drive, we gotta mail 'em in (On God)
And we got the best ticket around, go and tell a friend
[Verse 3: Veeze]
Crazy that we rich while we grown, we was rich kids (Yeah)
This ain't Red Lobster, but I only came for the bread (Only came for the bread)
The dope really ain't sh*t, but the fetty turned it to a ten (Huh?)
My hat and my shirt and my belt, man, that's three grand
Security ain't check in my bag, so I snuck it in (Yeah)
All facts, reach for a chain, been done shot a man (Bah, bah)
Today, I'm goin' Christian to the floor, I'm a godly man (Huh?)
My youngins gettin' better at slidin', they at hockey practice (They at hockey practice)
Veeze, you the worst, you the devil, Prada pants (Yeah)
'Fore she start tellin' me her problems, gotta bye to that (Bye)
Unc' told me if I need a million, I could borrow it (Come on)
I got all this money different colors like Sour Patches (What the hell?)
These hoes just like hitmans, they got body counts
Yeah, I rap, but down in Columbus, I got Oxycontin (I got Oxycontin)
Lame n*gga, you'd sell your soul for me to shout you out
My cup full with all mud, it's a soccer mom

[Outro: Veeze]
Lame-ass boy
The f*ck goin' on?