Cash App lyrics

[Intro]
What's your Cash App
What's your Cash App
b*tch, what's your Cash App
Don't be trippin' off a Cash App
b*tch, what's your Cash App
All that paper, what's your cash app
Lil' Dee
Uh

[Chorus]
They like damn (What the f*ck)
How you do that?
They tellin' me to chill with the tool, I say, "Screw that"
But put the guns down I beat a n*gga blue, black
I been had a check, no IG
But you knew that (Yeah you motherf*ckin' knew)
Uh, hell yeah, b*tch you knew
I took the condom off, 'cause I'm f*cking with you boo
I hate to see you go though I don't really need a crew
I'm ten toes down like the bottom of my shoe

[Verse 1]
Okay
Racks in my jeans I got racks in my backpack
Told that b*tch to leave
She ain't nothin' but a nat nat
I ain't got no pressure with ya baby
I don't have that
Oh, you want some thirty-inch bundles?
What's your cash app
Twelve get behind me
I ain't trippin' this a scat pack (Skrr)
I just got into it with my dog but we past that
I be in the lab going hard, I'm a lab rat
She a whole snack, face cute and her ass fat
[Verse 2]
Damn, why your b*tch won't leave me alone
Uh, why she keep on blowing up my phone
Uh, I'm a crop 'em out and get 'em goin'
I won't make you famous I won't diss you in no song
I'm rollin', pistol totin', window pokin'
Smokin', got me tokin', this important
Hold it, don't let him in the building
I don't know him
Roll him, like a Backwood, I'ma smoke him

[Chorus]
They like damn (What the f*ck)
How you do that?
They tellin' me to chill with the tool, I say, "Screw that"
But put the gun down I beat a n*gga blue, black
I been had a check, no IG
But you knew that (Yeah you motherf*ckin' knew)
Uh, hell yeah, b*tch you knew
I took the condom off, 'cause I'm f*ckin' with you boo
I hate to see you go though I don't really need a crew
I'm ten toes down like the bottom of my shoe

[Verse 2]
I f*ck for every, yeah
Could f*ck the [Busy?]
Type of n*gga to f*ck her raw and fill her up with plan-B's
Type of n*gga to f*ck her raw until act like she don't know me
Type of n*gga when I'm through with her she do the hommies
I'm the type of n*gga I don't know what to do with 'em
I keep it on me
Ridin' in the space, cool, mobbin' by my lonely
Parkas on, overweight you n*ggas gettin' boney
Parkas on, he ran the plates, they need a shine to clone me
Uh-uh, you n*ggas can't clone this
Just spent 20k on five dior outfits
We flyin' PJ booth from the project
I put cheese on your head like Aaron Rodgers
You think I'm in the fashion [?]
I be throwin' bullets, Lamar Jackson
Runnin' in that Philly, you in traffic
Might just in blitz, John Madden[?]
[Kill?], whole clip, no flaggin'
My n*gga took the hit, then the wagon
[Chorus]
They like damn (What the f*ck)
How you do that?
They tellin' me to chill with the tool, I say, "Screw that"
But put the gun down I beat a n*gga blue, black
I been had a check, no IG
But you knew that (Yeah you motherf*ckin' knew)
Uh, hell yeah, b*tch you knew
I took the condom off, 'cause I'm f*cking with you boo
I hate to see you go though I don't really need a crew
I'm ten toes down like the bottom of my shoe