How Could lyrics

[Intro]
(Zaytoven)
Uh-huh
Real n*gga sh*t
Ayy, light that weed up, bruh
Give me some rubber bands
What's poppin', lil' mama?

[Chorus]
How could a b*tch so bad pus*y be so good? (So good)
How could a million-dollar n*gga be so hood? (It's Dolph)
All that ass she got, that's why she walk like that, yeah
All this cash I got, that's why I talk like that
Balmain and Margielas what I'm rocking (Ayy, ayy)
Two hundred in my skinnies, you know how I'm rockin' (Racks)
She signed for it and called and told me that she got 'em (Hahaha)
That's my trap b*tch, she just want some red bottoms, uh

[Verse 1]
Bought a Rolls-Royce just to smoke kush in it (Damn)
This carbine one-five got a hundred bullets in it
She bad and she paid (Yeah)
That's my kind of b*tch (What up?)
These n*ggas counterfeit (They fake)
My old-school sick (Stupid)
My b*tch too thick (Woo)
Your b*tch look like a motherf*ckin' toothpick (Hahaha)
I just poured up a four and poured some out for Pimp (R.I.P. Pimp C)
I took this South Memphis sh*t and I went worldwide (Hey)
I smashed her for thirty minutes, then told her open wide (Take that)
If you 'bout paper, then let's get it, 'cause so am I
Multi-million-dollar n*gga smokin' blunts on the block
Remember we ain't have sh*t, but grandma, she did her best
From the projects to private jets, pickin' up check after check
Wanna know what a hundred thou' look like? Just look at my neck (Woo)
I'm drillin' your b*tch from the back and still got on my Rolex (Uh)
In the club passin' b*tches out bottles of Moët (Hah)
[Chorus]
How could a b*tch so bad pus*y be so good? (So good)
How could a million-dollar n*gga be so hood? (It's Dolph)
All that ass she got, that's why she walk like that, yeah
All this cash I got, that's why I talk like that
Balmain and Margielas what I'm rocking (Ayy, ayy)
Two hundred in my skinnies, you know how I'm rockin' (Racks)
She signed for it and called and told me that she got 'em (Hahaha)
That's my trap b*tch, she just want some red bottoms, uh

[Verse 2]
Skinny n*gga, big bank
My auntie walked up in my spot and she said, "Boy, this sh*t stank"(Damn)
I got pills, I got drank
Called your b*tch up and got laid
Called the plug up and got paid
Got a four hundred thousand dollar coupe parked outside in valet
I got a hundred dollar taper fade
I pour lean in my lemonade
Ain't no tellin' what a n*gga might do (Uh-huh)
Get too close to me, then my lil' n*ggas might shoot (Paper Route Business)
Lil' n*gga stay fly like I went to flight school
I'm livin' the life, I'm livin' the life full (Life full), ayy
This is my life, this is my life, ooh (Life, ooh)
Twenty-five hundred for a pair of tennis shoes
My b*tch went shoppin', bought me a chopper and some Jimmy Choo
[Chorus]
How could a b*tch so bad pus*y be so good? (So good)
How could a million-dollar n*gga be so hood? (It's Dolph)
All that ass she got, that's why she walk like that, yeah
All this cash I got, that's why I talk like that
Balmain and Margielas what I'm rocking (Ayy, ayy)
Two hundred in my skinnies, you know how I'm rockin' (Racks)
She signed for it and called and told me that she got 'em (Hahaha)
That's my trap b*tch, she just want some red bottoms, uh