"Aubree World" lyrics

I can't worry 'bout opinions, it'll throw me off, no
I'm the prize, baby — if you got me, better show me off
Lit like a birthday candle, come and blow me off
Way that ass look, BBL or not, I know it's soft

Yeah, don't let these niggas get you gassed, baby
Don't let your first Birkin bag be your last, baby
This ain't debit, this ain't credit, this is cash, baby
Ask Chaka — over here, we let it blast, baby

Can't keep stressin' over hoes, they trick you out my spot
Don't like bitches postin' from they phone, they just make it hot
We keep steppin' all over they hood, they like, "Make it stop."
New girl look like Meagan Good mixed with Megan Fox

Man what?
Machine guns — Kelly Slater, surfin' with a stick
You don't need guns, your big homie is a fucking bitch
Me and Key locked in forever — I could never switch
Gang shit over everything, tell 'em suck a shhh—

This a compact, ain't no recoil
Your bitch hit my line, fuck you mad at me for?
Took her to the 4th Ward like this is Aubree world
Sick —
Skoob world
Maco world
Ruggz world
Losa world
Speaker world
Courtney world

Damn