Ick Lay Bankz

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[Intro]
But we are in a sassy-man apocalypse, so you know
The men goin' into they soft-girl era
These niggas need to tighten the fuck up

[Verse 1]
Raw-ass bitch, he might get salmonella
Red bottoms don’t fit, I'm a hood Cinderella
Then he pulled up in a Prius, it's a broke man Tesla
Makin’ me sick, mmm-mmm, influenza
I don't mean to judge off a first impression
Or his part-time job at 7-Eleven
But he a broke-ass peasant, askin' twenty-one questions
Smell the Axe on his body, bad-bitch repellent

[Pre-Chorus]
(Ick)
And he got bad credit (Ick)
And he got a foot fetish (Ick)
When he swiped his card, it rejected (Ick)
All the real bitches get it (Ick)
DNR, but he tryin' paramedic (Ick)
Mmm-mmm, flat-line, just dead it (Ick)
There ain't no comin' back when you get it
All the real bitches get it