Pop Smoke lyrics

[Intro: Damedot]
(Meech)
Lil' broke-ass n*ggas
Look

[Verse 1: Damedot]
You say you gettin' money, n*gga, me too (Me too)
Chirps for a low number, I'ma need two (Brrt), AR clip see-through
Nah, I ain't the n*gga you want to start with, get a n*gga car flipped
I get money, f*ck hoes, and talk sh*t (Mwah)
Get a squad wiped for a couple of them oranges
I can't get no head in a whip 'less it's foreign
Regardless how she look, she gotta leave when I'm done
b*tch, I gotta flee, gotta run (Gotta go)
Let off so many guns, leave his block soaked
And I'm in Amiri and Dior like I'm Pop Smoke
He think that his b*tch comin' back, but she not, though (She not, though)
n*gga, this a fin, but it sound like a chop, though
Bro say he gon' sweep a n*gga with a mop, though
I f*cked the sh*t out that b*tch, then I got ghost
I blew some racks at the bar, but I got more

[Chorus: G.T. & Damedot]
Block hot as hell, bro watchin' for the narcos
Slidin' down the Mile high as hell, dodgin' potholes
What I'm sippin' on could've paid a n*gga car note (Wockhardt)
Swear up and down they gettin' money, but they not, though (But they not, though)
Light straps, big racks, yeah, n*gga, we got those (We got those)
And we in Dior and Amiri like Pop Smoke (Like Pop Smoke)
I just told two hoes to meet me on the top floor (Mwah)
I slid past in a Rolls-Royce, thought they'd seen a ghost (Ghost)
[Verse 2: G.T. & Damedot]
Check the score, we be havin' it
Money comin' like I'm walkin' with a money magnet
Dope on the stove, leave the pints in the cabinet (Pints in the cabinet)
Use a b*tch address to catch this lil' package
Racks in the bed, can't f*ck on the mattress (Nah)
f*ck the lil' eight, I don't usually f*ck average (All tens)
Put the sh*t together, then make it all vanish
Got a half brick, you 'bout to see me do magic (Voilà)
n*gga, I don't trust sh*t but my damn scale
I damn sure don't trust you, n*gga, you'll tell (You'll tell)
I got a bag in bigger than a whale
Got that Purina for you boys, hit a n*gga cell
And I hate when n*ggas talk blow (Shut the f*ck up)
Who don't know it come soft, bro
You don't got no pape', you shouldn't even wanna talk, bro

[Chorus: G.T. & Damedot]
Block hot as hell, bro watchin' for the narcos
Slidin' down the Mile high as hell, dodgin' potholes
What I'm sippin' on could've paid a n*gga car note (Wockhardt)
Swear up and down they gettin' money, but they not, though (But they not, though)
Light straps, big racks, yeah, n*gga, we got those (We got those)
And we in Dior and Amiri like Pop Smoke (Like Pop Smoke)
I just told two hoes to meet me on the top floor (Mwah)
I slid past in a Rolls-Royce, thought they'd seen a ghost (Ghost)
[Outro]
(Meech)