Wallet lyrics

[Verse]
Yeah
I'm tired of being good, b*tch I’m tryna be bad (I'm tryna be bad)
Pull up on that old n*gga, that got that jag' (b*tch ass n*gga)
He ain’t try me cause these bombs, they hit Baghdad
b*tch I got a whole gang behind me and I hide it
I don't show off none that street sh*t, cause I'm the prophet (no bap)
Basically what I'm sayin' none of my n*gga's extort for profit, yeah
b*tch we need everything we rob, but f*ck n*gga what's in your wallet?
b*tch I'm so slime, I be with Dora, I be with Dolly
I ain’t gonna let one n*gga stop me from this sliming, f*ck that n*gga
b*tch I don’t give a f*ck what you say, your favorite rapper ain't diamond
b*tch I’m too turnt up, I can't stop this sh*t cause I'm T.U
Standing on my money 7 foot, your sh*t like 3'2”
Mixed personalities, likе why the f*ck would I be you?
Differеnt b*tches sucking my di*k, like hoe why would I need you?
Like a dog ass b*tch, cause I’m a pitt, so I'm in heat too
This ain't my best verse, but it ain't my worst (it ain't my worst)
I don't give a f*ck about no b*tch, I take back whips, I don't take back purse, yeah
b*tch I ain't drinking no cut, I'm drinking that raw, wish I could just throw it up
“Why the f*ck you wanna throw it up?” Last night, I swear to god I was going up
So basically saying I ain't got no wock today
n*ggas they die today, these n*ggas tryna reach in the pot today
Today I feel like I'm Nine Trey, tomorrow l feel like I'm still Nine Trey (no bap)
Nine shots, you don't need no AR when you got switches on nine Glocks
b*tch I'm lit in my city, ask the n*gga's that's all in my bity
b*tch I'm breme and billy, I'm the only Billy that come from Philly
b*tch try me get that blatt, nine shots in your back
If my b*tch don't call her coochie “boochie” shoot her cat, yeah
CT, CT, CT, CT only in my lap (what?)
Bullet proof my Cadillac, this seat came with a Mac
My lil b*tch think she a horse, I f*ck on that b*tch and I rip out her tracks
"I don't like good girls, I like whores, can you just suck that lil di*k from the back?” (Pause)
What the f*ck you talking about that sh*t, you trippin' little n*gga
I got a whole lotta money, I gotta whole lotta figures
All of my killers they icy, we talkin' bout my drillers (my drillers)
She pullin' my pants, eat the cone, she wanna eat all the ice cream
I know I'm Bentley for real, but you know I'm so sixteen (so sixteen)
I know I'm Bentley for real, but you know I'm so sixteen (so sixteen)
You know I'm Bentley for real, but I'm so sixteen (so sixteen)
You know I'm Bentley for real, but you know I'm so sixteen (so sixteen)
Double X