[Intro: Trippie Redd]
Ring around the rosy
Pocket full of posies
Ashes, ashes
We all fall down
La la la la lalala lalala la
Hey, uh
Yeah, uh, ayy
[Chorus: Trippie Redd]
Drip too hard
Don't get too close, chopper close, my pistol close
Know I keep them missiles close
Your bitch love me, that's for sure
Hundreds on me and you know
Get the bread, count the loaf
Your bitch with me, that's for sure
You know, yeah, uh, you know it
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, you know it
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, you know it
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, uh, you know it
[Verse 1: Trippie Redd]
Pour up, four up, pour more up
No love, smoking gas, smell like throwup
These niggas wanna be me when they grow up
Opposition wanna diss gang hoping that they glow up
Consequences to the damn streets, nigga, go and pick your bro up
It could be your mama or your auntie, nigga, bullets got no love
Everybody wanna read my lines since I done glowed up
Tell them motherfuckers I ain't got time, meetings to my shoulders
Everybody get the damn decline, I don't pick the phone up
All my bitches stand in single file lines like some damn soldiers
Stand attention
How that's your bitch but she stay in my mentions?
She come for the stuff, put my dick in a different dimension
Know that my fingers be itching, palms is itching
Ring around the rosy
Pocket full of posies
Ashes, ashes
We all fall down
La la la la lalala lalala la
Hey, uh
Yeah, uh, ayy
[Chorus: Trippie Redd]
Drip too hard
Don't get too close, chopper close, my pistol close
Know I keep them missiles close
Your bitch love me, that's for sure
Hundreds on me and you know
Get the bread, count the loaf
Your bitch with me, that's for sure
You know, yeah, uh, you know it
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, you know it
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, you know it
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, uh, you know it
[Verse 1: Trippie Redd]
Pour up, four up, pour more up
No love, smoking gas, smell like throwup
These niggas wanna be me when they grow up
Opposition wanna diss gang hoping that they glow up
Consequences to the damn streets, nigga, go and pick your bro up
It could be your mama or your auntie, nigga, bullets got no love
Everybody wanna read my lines since I done glowed up
Tell them motherfuckers I ain't got time, meetings to my shoulders
Everybody get the damn decline, I don't pick the phone up
All my bitches stand in single file lines like some damn soldiers
Stand attention
How that's your bitch but she stay in my mentions?
She come for the stuff, put my dick in a different dimension
Know that my fingers be itching, palms is itching
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