How Did We Know? lyrics

by

Baby Smoove


[Intro]
(Marc Boomin, this you?)
I’m sick, she taking to me like that
Ayy

[Verse 1]
I’ma get the money, let you n*ggas have the hoes
Just dropped a six, in an hour I got a show
I can smell the pus*y n*gga, it be reeking off they clothes
I’m wearing Off-White, forgot I bought it, I was blown
Seven thousand all dubs, 'bout to spend it on clothes
Off juice every day, I can’t sleep without a pole
Go get you some money, that other sh*t getting old
Trying to play it like it's sweet, I had sh*t getting bold
He just got two bricks, he don’t really know a load
Sipping cream sodas, I ain't f*cking with Patrón
Her head too good, got me changing up my tone
I sell anything but my motherf*cking soul
On the road with some fire, I don’t wanna go home
Back in high school, I was trying to touch in [?]
I got a zip and a Glock in my motherf*cking coat
I just put a deuce of Wock' in this little 24

[Verse 2]
I ain’t focused on these hoes, you won’t ever really win
These b*tches do whatever for some petty ass revenge
I'ma kick it with my self, everybody acts weird
b*tch I drink lean, not no motherf*cking beer
'Bout to put solitaires in my motherf*cking ear
Old hoes on my line, heard I'm 'bout to sign a deal
I get her gone for real as soon as he gets a seal
We gon' hold that chopper when sh*t gets real
Kick it with the clerk, I’m trying to work, let’s cut a deal
The number on the blows 'bout to bang out a zero
b*tch, I hit the set and go to Saks for my apparel
I ain’t into saving hoes, you betrying to be the hero
My dawg off an eight, I'm just hoping he alive
Turned myself into a boss, can't no b*tch hurt my pride
Your n*gga ain’t a shooter, he can’t make it to Belle Isle
It be looking like a circus when your whole gang around
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