​children lyrics

[Intro: Allen Iverson]
It's easy to sum it up, when you just talk about practice. We sitting in here, I'm supposed to be the franchise player, and we in here talking about practice. I mean, listen, we talking about practice. Not a game, not a game. Practice

[Chorus]
My n*ggas carry them choppas and sticks
I'm tryna see what the problem is
Stopped going to school and I got really rich
Now I might f*ck on a college b*tch
Aye, I feel like YoungBoy 'cause b*tch I got so many kids
n*ggas tryna steal the swag, n*ggas can't do it like this

[Verse 1]
I'm only 17, been counting money so get off my di*k
My lil' bro say your name Dakota so you got put some cold on ya wrist
I don't go for no b*tch
Hop out the four door, b*tch with like four hoes, one for each door
I really don't know why n*ggas try me, these n*ggas already know how it go
I already know that your b*tch is on go
I had to pull up and flex on these hoes
Remember when I was stealing out the store
Now I spend a couple thousand on some clothes
Coolin' at the top, y'all ain't even close
I do sh*t, these n*ggas don't
Told that b*tch that I'm from Pluto, you can't catch me spending money on your hoe
These n*ggas got no swag with it
If she want a Prada bag, get her two so that b*tch can mix match with it
Draco with extended mag, f*ck his stomach up like he ate bad chicken
Now she rocking all black just because of me, made that b*tch act different
Pull up in the yellow coupe like a bumblebee and I still act civic
Had to put these rap n*ggas in some time out, like I got bad children
Told her pull up to the crib, knock her spine out, leave her f*ckin' back itchin'
They ask why I walk around with my 9 out, 'cause I'm really back n*gga
I'm back
I'm lil Kota b*tch and you know this
Your b*tch gave me top in that mof*ckin' Ford but I'm high as a b*tch I can't focus
We ride around in a Lamb, I brought that b*tch in some bold sh*t
I really fell in love with the money I tell her, "lil b*tch I'm devoted"
[Chorus]
My n*ggas carry them choppas and sticks
I'm tryna see what the problem is
Stopped going to school and I got really rich
Now I might f*ck on a college b*tch
I feel like YoungBoy, got so many kids
Tryna steal swag, you can't do it like this
I cannot stand none these n*ggas on di*k
Run up on me, any n*gga I'll pit

[Verse 2]
I'm still going up, know these f*ck n*ggas sick
Pull up in that truck, in that mof*ckin' big body
If you wanted smoke n*gga, then we could hit 'bout it
I don't give a f*ck 'bout that lil a- (Fit)
Rick Owens, b*tch, Number Nine
Play then I'm bustin' it down, that b*tch she bussin' it down
b*tches gon' lie in your face, if you want lie to me n*gga, I could put the 9 in your face
Live this sh*t like I'm 'posed to, 'cause you know I'm gon' die anyway
Made a millie off of Pro Tools, give a f*ck what y'all gotta say

[Chorus]
My n*ggas carry them choppas and sticks
I'm tryna see what the problem is
Stopped going to school and I got really rich
Now I might f*ck on a college b*tch
I feel like YoungBoy, got so many kids
Tryna steal swag, you can't do it like this
I cannot stand none these n*ggas on di*k
Run up on me, any n*gga I'll pit