Point Em Out lyrics

[Intro: 5EB]
Huh, huh, huh
Huh, huh, huh, bee, bee, bee

[Chorus: OsamaSon]
Point 'em out, man, point 'em out
Got pointers in my mouth
Ten freaky hoes up in the house, I count racks on the couch
I'm gon' pull up in that scout, they blowin' my phone up now
Yeah, we got real racks, kick it, we got foreign bad b*tches
I'll be back, n*gga, rehab did it
Count up hella figures while I was still a kid, b*tch
New SRT, I whip it, pour up too much, start trippin' (Whip it)
Smokin' way too much, I'm trippin', free closets, you must be kiddin'

[Verse 1: OsamaSon]
You ain't did what I did, pus*y, I'm not finna listen
I put work in with that stick, huh, just give me a minute
Hold up, just give me a minute, come on, just give me a minute
Hold up, just give me a minute, come on, just give me a minutе
Yeah, yeah, I'm finna get tattеd up, feel like the menace
Spent some reefer unattended, b*tch, pull up, eat it up, I’m wit' it
Yuh, told my mama I'm livin', yeah, beat it up then catch it, hold up
I count up then kick it, hold up, I count up then kick it

[Verse 2: 5EB]
[?] can't roll it
Had drip, but then I stole it
We still ride round in that stolen
Baby, everyone feining on me
Oh, you dark? You smell like coochie
Saint Laurent, I just got sh*t
Foreign car, runnin' packs, i'm sellin' narcs' (Go, go)
Lil' b*tch, i'm money flippin'
Yeah, they see me, got me trippin'
I spilled my soda, that's why they listen
I need net, from that kitchen
Slide on me, it's for that diss
They know the fake, [?]
Before this rap sh*t I was jugging, I [?]
Posted up right now, sh*t
Yo-Yo-Your favorite hoe, I smashed it
This exact draws are fashion
I popped runway, why they cappin'?
New jugg with [?] we was [?]
And now I know my bro ain't gon' lack, I take the gang
New-New-New dogsh*t, like i'm Taylor
Slide [?], I cannot save her
My b*tch, she pray like [?]
Forgot to do my interview, Fader
But I don't give no f*ck
Line that boy, f*ck a taper
And i'm just getting up, [?] in the skyscraper
Let's go
[Chorus: OsamaSon]
Point 'em out, man, point 'em out
Got pointers in my mouth
Ten freaky hoes up in the house, I count racks on the couch
I'm gon' pull up in that scout, they blowin' my phone up now
Yeah, we got real racks, kick it, we got foreign bad b*tches
I'll be back, n*gga, rehab did it
Count up hella figures while I was still a kid, b*tch
New SRT, I whip it, pour up too much, start trippin' (Whip it)
Smokin' way too much, I'm trippin', free closets, you must be kiddin'