Call My Bluff lyrics

[Intro]
Doe Beeski
Uh, yeah, uh, uh, uh (The f*ckin' boss when it come to this Bird sh*t, n*gga)
Mmm, mmm, hmm (Ain't none of this sh*t for entertainment, you get what I'm sayin'?)
(Big Oh Really)
Uh (Call my bluff, n*gga, you think I'm fakin', oh, really?)
Huh (Let's do it)

[Chorus]
Really a player, ain't mad at no n*gga that hit my ho (That's her fault)
He ain't no player, can't take it, a n*gga come hit his, though (That's her loss)
pus*y n*gga, you ain't no gangster, you ain't kick in no door (Nosirski)
You ain't never ran from 12, hit the cut, and hid your pole (Nosirski, oh, really?)
n*gga, I was probably like twelve, n*gga, Doe B been on Knowles (Knowles Ave)
Plannin' on sendin' them shells, n*gga, I'll forget my goals, uh (Vrrr)
All of my hoes wear Chanel, got a bad b*tch in my Rolls (Come here, baby)
All them flowers I post, but the opps act like they ain't get my lo', huh (That's crazy)

[Verse]
I'll send that b*tch to you personally, make sure you get my lo', huh (You pus*y, n*gga)
Snuck in my pole, you try me on stage, I end my show (Vrrr)
Gang 'nem came Gen5, but we still tote Gen4s (Gang, gang)
Can't even choose what ho I want, f*ck it, go get both, huh (Come here)
Hmm, go get it (Both of y'all)
Hmm, go get it (Both of y'all)
Run up on Doe, on Baby and Kim, n*gga gon' get smoked, uh (You dig that)
Peep through the hole, who at the door? Mmm (Who that? Huh?)
Who the f*ck that at my door? Ring, let that b*tch go, vrrr (Vrrr, baow, baow, baow, think I'm playin'?)
Vrrr (b*tch, huh? Stop playin')
Vrrr (Baow, baow, baow, b*tch, Big Oh Really, Big Doe Beeski)
Brrr (Don't forget the 'Ski, oh, really?)
Brr-brr-brr
Opps say I'm a ho, but truth be told, they really know (Yeah)
Doe B really go, he really retarded, he really slow (Stupid)
Really him, not them, that's what I tote my blicky for
Beezy, I come trim like I'm tryna edit a video
Woo, woo, woo (Oh, really? Pop it, oh, really? Pop this)
Ah, let's roll (Let's do it)
You ain't gon' let it blow? f*ck you tuck that tooly for? (Fool)
You'll die about this tennis rope, what the f*ck you lookin' for? (Stupid)
Hop out, Rick Owens on my feet, Rick Owens hoodie on (Ricky)
Slide in 'Cat, b*tch, we got more Tracks than a studio (Skrrt, oh, really?)
Hmm, pop it (Pop it), pop it (Pop it), pop it (Let's go), pop it (You dig?)
[Chorus]
Really a player, ain't mad at no n*gga that hit my ho (That's her fault)
He ain't no player, can't take it, a n*gga come hit his, though (That's her loss)
pus*y n*gga, you ain't no gangster, you ain't kick in no door (Nosirski)
You ain't never ran from 12, hit the cut, and hid your pole (Nosirski, oh, really?)
n*gga, I was probably like twelve, n*gga, Doe B been on Knowles (Knowles Ave)
Plannin' on sendin' them shells, n*gga, I'll forget my goals, uh (Vrrr)
All of my hoes wear Chanel, got a bad b*tch in my Rolls (Come here, baby)
All them flowers I post, but the opps act like they ain't get my lo', huh (That's crazy)