LITTLE SPOON lyrics

[Intro]
(The Lunch Crew Company, I'm part of that)
Yeah
You should be proud of me
(The Lunch Crew Company)

[Verse]
Ayy, my mans just caught a body, he on the news with it
In interrogation lookin’ fabulous, don't got a clue with him
Gucci [?] pants fresh as hell with the shoes with 'em
If I love a b*tch, I love a b*tch to death, don’t care who hit it
I'm fresh out of my deal, shoot a proposal, b*tch, it's reopened
Or it's back to sellin' pints for the high, I'm a street token
Take my shirt off just to f*ck her, let me swim like the beach open
I just nutted, now I got the gummy worm, but I'ma keep strokin'
She suckin’ di*k all night, I’m the reason that hеr knees swollen
I'm so disgusting, look
I ditched on Cotton, I was in my feelings, it all got misspoken
Now wе ducked off in Houston with two bad b*tches eatin’ lotus
Skrrt, pssh, shh, pop, let me switch lanes
Street n*gga, I got habits of puttin' sh*t in my b*tch name
Flip-flops, Glock in my swimming trunks, ridin' down Biscayne
[?] civil like them skinny n*ggas, but I'm her big bae
Indie n*gga, but I’m on these majors' ass like a sh*t stain
Now, just imagine if I was signed to a major label, y'all really couldn't keep up
A pint of Wock' for a thousand-flat, boy, that sh*t fake
You would never catch me smokin' on no hookah, boy, that sh*t gay
Four of Quagen, pour it up in my Fanta case I catch a cold
Baby mama caught me cheatin', put me out but won't get my clothes
In Magic City eatin' lamb chops, me and Sticks Malone
I like bad b*tches who pretty and be sniffin' coke
My dog was my dog, but he turned to a mouse
Salo crib so damn big, he got drones in the house
Make 'em sign an NDA, don't bring no phones in my house
And when I f*ck you from the front, b*tch, moan in my mouth
Keyshia Ka'Oir when you see me 'cause it's Gucci in the front
If she my ho, I upgrade her, put some Pucci on my sl*t
Hit her right after the club, it smell like coochie in the truck
I like bein' the little spoon, b*tch, put that coochie on my butt
Started with a digi' scale and three-for-tens, you should be proud of me
Remember back when fiends was the only hoes that smiled for me
n*ggas have ten or twenty pounds and still won't spot a G
Eat the bacon and the bread and left the n*gga with a put of grease
n*ggas was cold-hearted
Real Flint n*gga, not from Detroit, b*tch, I don't know Martin
Quagen got me with a gut, when I don't got it, I got postpartum
Cheated on my b*tch while she was pregnant, now she chrome-hearted
Summer Walker came out with the new album, got this ho started
Damn, it's 'bout to be a long night
My daddy in rehab, he said pray for him, 'cause the dope callin'