Hands Down lyrics

[Intro]
(Ayy, Ecko, turn it up)
(Ayy, Ecko, turn this beat off if I ain't trippin' on it)

[Chorus]
Ayy, hands down, b*tch, I'm the hottest in the city
Throwin' fits about that b*tch, then come get with me (Yeah, yeah)
Can't go out like no Ricky
You lose 'em how you get 'em, ain't no biggie
Bag a ten, f*ck the b*tch then feed her Wendy's, yeah, ayy (Yeah, uh)
You could call me Mr, Leave-Her-Where-She-At
b*tch, I'm a dog, but I ain't with the chasin' cats
Got n*ggas runnin' laps
If you ain't got no bag, then b*tch, relax (Okay, okay, okay, okay)
We been spankin' ass for real, b*tch you could ask, yeah, yeah

[Verse 1]
b*tch breaker, block bender, I'm the don, b*tch (Yeah)
Slapped the ho, she had the nerve to try and play some opp sh*t (Yeah)
Saucy n*gga, b*tch, I'm flyer than a c*ckpit (Okay)
b*tch be on a blade and still a bum, go get a job, b*tch (Yeah, yeah)
Disrespectful, some would say I need my ass whooped
f*ckin', but y'all both ain't got no chicken, that's a bad look
Ayy, all that flashin' in that camera, get your slam took
You can't call me broke, I got more paper than a math book
Hard-headed, popped P80, then it jammed up (Yeah)
Stank b*tch, ain't got no chicken for me, baby, back up (Uh)
Lost three n*ggas back to back, they havin' bad luck
Poppin' it, b*tch, if you feel a way, go pick your mans up
n*gga (What?)
I said, poppin' it, b*tch, if you feel a way, go pick your mans up
Yeah, yeah (Stupid-ass n*gga)
Yeah, yeah, yeah
[Chorus]
Ayy, hands down, b*tch, I'm the hottest in the city
Throwin' fits about that b*tch, then come get with me
Can't go out like no Ricky
You lose 'em how you get 'em, ain't no biggie
Bag a ten, f*ck the b*tch then feed her Wendy's, yeah, ayy
You could call me Mr, Leave-Her-Where-She-At
b*tch, I'm a dog, but I ain't with the chasin' cats
Got n*ggas runnin' laps
If you ain't got no bag, then b*tch, relax
We been spankin' ass for real, b*tch you could ask, yeah, yeah

[Verse 2]
Ayy, all this sh*t been new to me, b*tch, I was broke, broke (Yeah, please)
You don't think I keep it on my lap, then you on dope, dope (What? What? What?)
c*cky n*gga, got the trenches in a chokehold (On my mama)
Tried to get away, we ran him down, he was a slowpoke (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Hot sh*t'll leave a goofy n*gga froze up
Boxed him in and sliced his ass in half, now he a cold cut (Uh, okay)
Janky Bimmer, b*tch, I'm sliding hittin' donuts (Yeah)
Johnnies get behind me, thank the Lord ain't had a pole tucked
n*gga
I said, Johnnies get behind me, thank the Lord ain't had a pole tucked
n*gga, dead homies
n*gga, yeah, yeah