"Incase!" lyrics
Might as well go send the opps some binoculars
'Cause I know these niggas always be watchin'
I just might go do some rich nigga shit
And spend fifty or sixty on one or two watches
XD-45, it go (Blatt) when I pop him
They thinking to themselves, "Damn, who gon' stop him?"
Won't send his addy, it's cool, bro, we got it
He try to play me? Okay, that is not it
Same place we left him, the same place we found him
She told me, "Daddy, slow down, it do not fit"
Honestly, bro, I'm just droppin' this shit
'Cause the Ills Verront check was a fat-ass deposit
Can't understand how a nigga who never met me before
Always got some shit to say
Talkin' crazy like niggas don't know you ain't 'bout shit
Do anything for some clout
It's okay 'cause my niggas really on some shoot up your house shit
She want a Birkin, I told that bitch "buy it yourself,"
Now she getting out the bed on some boss shit
I give two fucks 'bout the internet, try me in person
Might slay on that jump in the crowd shit
Wood full of zaza, wood full of zaza
Yours full of haha, we on that loud shit
We in that high rise, he work at Five Guys
Still tryna talk down? He on some clown shit
My choppa big as the head on DaBaby
In case a nigga want some shit with some BOP in it
Came in this bitch with a Prada backpack on my shoulder
Don't test me 'cause I keep my Glock in it
This ho so pretty might buy her a Bentley
But she talk too much told that bitch put a sock in it
I'll kill ya mother, ya brother, ya father, ya cousin
We find out the opps who you rocking with
I feel like Wayne 'cause I want me a milli', a milli', a milli'
But that still ain't stopping shit
We just touched down in New York
Finna go do my milli', my milli', my milli', my rock and shit
Remember them days it was Fruit of The Loom
Now my boxers Supreme and my t-shirt is Burberry
Gave you a chance to come prove what you 'bout
And you turned that shit down, I just knew you was so scary
I just might cop my lil' brother a brand-new M3
With the same color seats as a damn cherry
Lot of these hoes blaming shit on they sign
It ain't got shit to do with you being a damn Aries
'Cause I know these niggas always be watchin'
I just might go do some rich nigga shit
And spend fifty or sixty on one or two watches
XD-45, it go (Blatt) when I pop him
They thinking to themselves, "Damn, who gon' stop him?"
Won't send his addy, it's cool, bro, we got it
He try to play me? Okay, that is not it
Same place we left him, the same place we found him
She told me, "Daddy, slow down, it do not fit"
Honestly, bro, I'm just droppin' this shit
'Cause the Ills Verront check was a fat-ass deposit
Can't understand how a nigga who never met me before
Always got some shit to say
Talkin' crazy like niggas don't know you ain't 'bout shit
Do anything for some clout
It's okay 'cause my niggas really on some shoot up your house shit
She want a Birkin, I told that bitch "buy it yourself,"
Now she getting out the bed on some boss shit
I give two fucks 'bout the internet, try me in person
Might slay on that jump in the crowd shit
Wood full of zaza, wood full of zaza
Yours full of haha, we on that loud shit
We in that high rise, he work at Five Guys
Still tryna talk down? He on some clown shit
My choppa big as the head on DaBaby
In case a nigga want some shit with some BOP in it
Came in this bitch with a Prada backpack on my shoulder
Don't test me 'cause I keep my Glock in it
This ho so pretty might buy her a Bentley
But she talk too much told that bitch put a sock in it
I'll kill ya mother, ya brother, ya father, ya cousin
We find out the opps who you rocking with
I feel like Wayne 'cause I want me a milli', a milli', a milli'
But that still ain't stopping shit
We just touched down in New York
Finna go do my milli', my milli', my milli', my rock and shit
Remember them days it was Fruit of The Loom
Now my boxers Supreme and my t-shirt is Burberry
Gave you a chance to come prove what you 'bout
And you turned that shit down, I just knew you was so scary
I just might cop my lil' brother a brand-new M3
With the same color seats as a damn cherry
Lot of these hoes blaming shit on they sign
It ain't got shit to do with you being a damn Aries
Writer(s): Benjamin Phillips
