Born Wit It lyrics

[Intro: Maar]
(I ain't gon' lie, you tripped on this b*tch, Jay)
Hmm
Swear
b*tch

[Verse 1: Maar]
Yeah, Jay, you been trippin' lately
I had to slow down on the hoes, I been trippin' lately
She think I'm f*ckin' all these hoes, but ain't did business lately
Huh
I could teach you how to grow the 'bows, but I hate demonstratin'
Waitin' on the bag to catch your ass, you gon' still be waitin', huh
If you was patient with no bag, you better still be patient
I been grindin' for this bag, n*gga, since a lil' n*gga
Knock her down and pass her ass to Grant, he gotta deal with her
She tryna settle down, hell naw, not even a lil' bit
It's like I f*ck and get my nut and I don't wanna deal with her
Huh, she a sl*t, yeah, the type you can't build with
I been smokin' all day and I don't feel sh*t, huh
Wake up in the studio and I'm still here
Told Chopz to call the hoes, now where the vibes at?
Get these n*ggas out the section, they don't belong here
She a freak, it's in her blood, now where your moms at, b*tch?
f*ck all that talkin', it's only combat, b*tch
Huh, do that sh*t yourself, but learn your own lesson
You ain't got it in you, wasn't born with it
Huh, huh, you could try to rap, but got no story to you
That same money in your pocket gettin' borin' to you
How you buyin' all them clothes and you still owin' n*ggas?
She tried to rape me for the di*k, I'ma start hoin' b*tches
This my fifth time spittin', 'bout to add some oil to it
I ain't askin' for no sh*t that I know a ho'll do it
I asked her can she add her friend? And she like, "Yeah, I'm open to it"
[Verse 2: Babyfxce E]
Huh, you don't get no play for some sh*t you 'posed to be doin'
My sh*t worth some paper, I can't send no open to you
Hellcat look so good, but I forgot we broke into it
f*cked before we got back cool, me and my b*tch got broken love
Act like I took it to the car, but still got gun in club
Huh, I stay low-key, go let them other n*ggas say they the plug
Man, these n*ggas dumb, got a drum
It don't make no beats, but this b*tch shoot fire out the front
How this b*tch ain't got no ass, but she look fire from the front?
I ain't gotta thug it no more, I'm retired from the thug
Huh, lil' b*tch want my heart, but I'm retired from the love
We just got into it, but it all started from my cup, huh
Bro just lost his Perc', he said he dropped it on the rug
When he find it, I bet he pop it soon as he pick it up, huh
Told 'em to click 93, f*ck it, fill it up, huh
You can't be no Striker Boy until you get you one, yeah
Pull up on that n*gga Maar, he got plenty guns
I like you, your friend like me, might be a two for one, huh
She ain't got no Ari hips, but her sh*t look good enough
Once that AR get to spittin', this b*tch might close the club
All blues on me, a n*gga can't text me to hold a dub
We made an M up on the M, that's why we hold it up
They tried to book me, it wasn't ten, that's why we hold it up
Y'all scared of b*tches that's a ten, I have 'em folded up
The extra clips already full, we ain't gotta load 'em up
We got on his ass and didn't say sh*t, don't gotta know it's us, n*gga
[Verse 3: Maar]
Fred just walked a n*gga down and I ain't know that was my cousin
Fredo, that's my cousin too, but this sh*t deep, we like some brothers
She don't like me off the drink 'cause I'm so mean, I'm like, "Don't touch me"
Huh, roll the window down, I can't see sh*t, huh, huh
Drivin' fast dudes, got the b*tches feelin' seasick
Huh, she had kids, her pus*y tight, she had a C-section

[Verse 4: Babyfxce E]
All the b*tches in my booth, the PTP section
Money hangin' out my pocket, I ain't mean to— huh
Money hangin' out my pocket, I ain't even mean to flex it
n*gga, everybody shop with us, I told you we don't need no testers
She wake up and eat the di*k, bro, she don't need no breakfast
My b*tch'll pop you hoes up, bro, she don't need no weapon, huh
She don't need no techy
You know you gotta call my phone, b*tch, I don't read my messages
Let me hear that