5.6 lyrics

[Intro]
(Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha)
Beep, beep, beep (Psst, boop-boop-boop-boop-boop-boop)
Do somethin', pfft, what? Hold up, hold up, hold up, hold up, yeah

[Chorus]
They pull up and get murked, hold up
I was just coughin' on syrup, yeah
Two times, made that swerve (What? What?)
I'm in the Creek like, ''What's the word?'' (Yeah)
I spent fifteen for some Percs
Spe-spent a lil' fifteen, did that work (Beep, beep, beep)
I done kissed my f*ckin' cup, spilled the red all on my shirt
New Al—, shh, now that sh*t dirt
I was in the back seat countin' up Percs, yeah
Givenchy shirt like five hundred, swear that cryin' sh*t don't hurt, yeah
Yeah, pfft, but I don't know, yeah, yeah, yeah (I don't know, yeah)
Opiates f*cked my mind up, that lil' b*tch can't get designer
I was in London f*ckin' them pounds up, yeah, yeah, yeah (Beep, beep)
f*ckin' them pounds up, yeah, f*ckin' her mouth up, huh, yeah, yeah
f*ckin' her mouth up (What?)
Trap cost like twenty bands (What? What?)
We gon' shoot like twenty men (Yeah)
n*gga, we just like it that (Yeah), hit them .56 on they ass

[Verse]
Yeah, in a Balenci' bag, yeah, told slime, ''Fill up mags''
Yeah, we got, pfft, yeah, yeah, I'ma have to spin in that b*tch back, yeah
I just been with hoes, yeah, Bentley go, Bentley go fast
b*tch, I can't miss a ho, yeah
My slime finna go crash, n*gga, my slime finna go crash, n*gga
I got this lil' b*tch mad (Yeah), I got this lil' b*tch mad (Yeah)
Buy the new Louis V bag
[Chorus]
(Ha-ha-ha-ha-ha) They pull up and get murked, hold up
I was just coughin' on syrup, yeah
Two times, made that swerve (What? What?)
I'm in the Creek like, ''What's the word?'' (Yeah)
I spent fifteen for some Percs
Spe-spent a lil' fifteen, did that work (Beep, beep, beep)
I done kissed my f*ckin' cup, spilled the red all on my shirt
New Al—, shh, now that sh*t dirt
I was in the back seat countin' up Percs, yeah
Givenchy shirt like five hundred, swear that cryin' sh*t don't hurt, yeah
Yeah, pfft, but I don't know, yeah, yeah, yeah (I don't know, yeah)
Opiates f*cked my mind up, that lil' b*tch can't get designer
I was in London f*ckin' them pounds up, yeah, yeah, yeah (Beep, beep)
f*ckin' them pounds up, yeah, f*ckin' her mouth up, huh, yeah, yeah
f*ckin' her mouth up (What?)
Trap cost like twenty bands (What? What?)
We gon' shoot like twenty men (Yeah)
n*gga, we just like it that (Yeah), hit them .56 on they ass