Like That lyrics

[Verse 1: Rare Bandz]
b*tch, b*tch in my phone on my line taking space up
Sleepin’ on me and young n*gga better wake up (Get up)
(Woo, Woo) Call me Lil’ Debbie lil b*tch cause I got my cake up
Killin’ this sh*t ain’t no mumbling, all of these b*tches I’m juggling
Run to the bag not gon’ huddle em', all of my water leave puddling
I just left the mall (Yeah), Young n*gga love to ball
Flex on these b*tches like that
Run it up get it right back
All these lil b*tches they all on my line (Yeah), all on my di*k
Woah woah woah woah yeah

[Chorus: John X Smith]
Ass is so fat, I might f*ck on a b*tch like that (Yeah)
Run on a b*tch like that yeah, f*ck on a b*tch like that oh nah
Gone, f*ck on a b*tch like that nah
She gone, run on a b*tch like that (Yeah)

[Verse 2: Rare Bandz]
Maison Margiela you n*ggas can’t catch up
Flex on these n*ggas you know I can’t let up (Can’t do it)
Ruth’s Chris dinners remember my pockets was thinner
Now I’m a winner
You was a fake, pus*y n*gga you a pretender
Diamonds dancing on me Michael Jackson you can call me mother f*ckin’ thriller
Woah yeah like that
Polo my whip, Polo my Porsche
Polo my horse, married to money
I’m married to money, I never divorce
Woah like that
[Bridge: John X Smith]
Married to money I never divorce, no wedding, but I got the cake (Yeah)
I’mma go f*ck on a b*tch in the Porsche, then we gone f*ck in the Jag (Yeah)
She’s just so bad yeah yeah, ain’t gon’ hold me back
Run on a b*tch like that, oh yeah yeah

[Chorus: John X Smith]
Ass is so fat, I might f*ck on a b*tch like that (Yeah)
Run on a b*tch like that yeah, f*ck on a b*tch like that oh nah
Gone, f*ck on a b*tch like that nah
She gone, run on a b*tch like that (Yeah)

[Verse 3: John X Smith]
This b*tch look like a model, she suck on me like it’s a bottle
Givenchy all on my socks, this star was all on the bottom (Yeah)
Dip in the Maserati, her Cartier drippin' with diamond
Drippin' all on me with diamonds, (Ah) 100 my dash in a 40
Ohh ohh, She suck on my di*k now she know
Like woah, she gone and sucked on the goat
Ah like, pour up some more
Yeah like, drunk on a boat
Yeah, Twerk on my di*k
Throw that sh*t back, yeah
She wet like the sea
Watch her Louboutins bleed
Yeah yeah yeah
[Chorus: John X Smith]
Ass is so fat, I might f*ck on a b*tch like that (Yeah)
Run on a b*tch like that yeah, f*ck on a b*tch like that oh nah
Gone, f*ck on a b*tch like that nah
She gone, run on a b*tch like that (Yeah)

[Verse 4: Rare Bandz]
Shooters like John Wick
Makin’ it storm in the club me and John X Smith
If the b*tch broke gettin’ dismissed
Score with the bag that’s a quick six
f*ck a dough boy I’m the bread man
f*ck on that b*tch in a head stand
Red bottoms yeah I trap in these
Smokin’ on dope I look Japanese
Talkin’ bout deals I need commas please
All of my n*ggas speak guapoalese
Yeah yeah
Cause we all about the check (Got it)
Diamonds all up on my neck (Bling)
I was born to f*ckin’ flex
All of my n*ggas, all of my n*ggas we flex on our ex

[Chorus: John X Smith]
Ass is so fat, I might f*ck on a b*tch like that (Yeah)
Run on a b*tch like that yeah, f*ck on a b*tch like that oh nah
Gone, f*ck on a b*tch like that nah
She gone, run on a b*tch like that (Yeah)