BIG POCKETS + YOT lyrics

[PART I: BIG POCKETS]

[Intro]
Worstfeelingever
Yeah
Pockets get big
Pockets get big
Yeah
Let's go
Phrrr

[Chorus]
Pockets gettin racked up(Pockets gettin racked up)
Pockets getting racked up(Big)
Pockets gettin stacked up(Pockets gettin stacked up)
Pockets get big
Pockets get big
Pockets get big
Pockets get big

[Verse]
I do this for the racks
I can tell that you do it for the clout
I can tell that you do it for the-
Gun down going for the kill
Smile got diamonds in my grills
Yearsoftears right arm on Paris
Told my swag n*gga cannot compare us
I got Osbatt mix it with thе Margielas
Send a addie b*tch comе with your fellas
Put my di*k in her fella she jealous now
On my fourth damn cup and im wiggin out
Don’t play with my guap got me wiggin out
We get bands week in week out
I f*ck MILFS not college b*tches
Roll this blunt I ain't passing a b*tch
Can't save that hoe I ain’t catching a b*tch
Put it in my b*tch,I'm [?] My b*tch
I told my man to go polish my kicks
Black Michael Jackson but my name on her tits
I sip the wock,dirty
b*tch like getting Balenci,dirty
Guap that we getting is dirty
I f*ck that b*tch she dir-
[Chorus]
Yeah
Pockets get big
Phrrr
Pockets gettin racked up(Pockets gettin racked up)
Pockets getting racked up
Pockets gettin stacked up
Pockets gettin racked up
Pockets getting racked up
Pockets gettin stacked up
Pockets get big
Pockets get big
Pockets get big
Pockets get big

[Part II: YOT]

[Intro]
I don't think they're hearing it

[Verse]
My b*tch looking prettier than me
I get mad if she prettier than me
I got mad she better than me
Told her bring the money home daddy waiting for it
I just got a coupe,now I'm paying for it
Man I thought you had guap,oh you waiting for it?
Yearsoftears on me I don't pay for it
Told her kill the boss,I don't Pay for it
[?] in and pass out
Puff I don't pass around
p*ssing in and p*ss out
Bands when I walk out
Walk in I f*ck out
f*ck did you f*ck up
I’m a young boss bruh I walk with my c*ck out
I just made a mill boy I walk with my c*ck out
This my house Imma walk with my c*ck out
Im a superstar but I still want the opps out
Oh,oh
I cannot lose I got God with me
Two years ago they were doubting me
Let the b*tch [?]
Hol that boy,told him to pardon me
God in these streets I’m a general
And I came in that b*tch like a general
I'm tripping I’m tripping my diamonds are glissening
I f*ck so many b*tches
Got too different women
Got two of em kissing
I can't find the bands,the money and women
I-
Uh
f*ck we's not the same
Got the whip man mine parked up
Imma find VIP
Walk Balenci spark up
Looking for the Vetement
While pouring wok up
pus*y boy I shot up
Why you tryna walk up?
Much is going on
The gang going up
Sticks going up
The price gone up
Your b*tch got missing
Got her dress going up
I ain't conversating with no pus*y n*gga
But I’m conversating with the pus*y n*gga
My [?]be hitting different n*gga
Hopping flower like a Florist n*gga
I got no wock Imma get moody
I got no wock imma get moody