"Plan B" lyrics
You ain't talking 'bout Glock, you ain't talking 'bout nun'
Spin five days a week just for fun
Real GF nigga, they ain't stuntin'
I'ma spend $100 just like 1's
Pop out the cut and go nuts
I call my brother to pop out the cut, roll your ass like a blunt
You keep on acting like you wit' it, my niggas they pop out the cut with no chicken, a drum
Try me, I'ma get sum'
Babywhoa, I'm the don
They broke as hell, they share alarms
No, I'm not trippin', bring your friend too
All the plates get ate, edible
I'm 3rd world, I'm not original
Pull out them dracos, this shit can get physical
Play with B Whoa, then them boys in a pickle
Yeah, okay I like how this rhyme
Yeah, okay I like how she suck it
I got the Glock, tuck it
Gold karat on me, shit like chicken nugget
He scared of the blick, huh, yeah, he pussy, I know he gon' snitch
Gelato 41, we ain't smokin' on no spliff
Big ass Glock, red tip, switch on that bitch
I fucked her friend, I switched on that bitch
Glock 19, switches on it
Bro hit the phone, got 100 thou' at least
Back in the day when I was 17, I walked around with the Kel-Tec
Scripts in the door, I'm trapping that bitch out, they like, "How you mail that?"
I'm B Whoa, c'mon man
Squash that, you ain't got no plan
I'll really show you who the bad man
He ain't on nothing boy, stop that white flag
Get back gang, you know they toe tag
30 round clip and I bought bro mags
Man, I'm trippin, I'm trippin, I'm trippin
I won't fuck her friend, so I gotta' keep my distance
I got this bitch going, I got her in a blickle
That bitch got the racks, so yea, we finna trick 'em
Yeah, I'm a vamp, got the dogs, sick 'em
Back in the day, used to rip off $100 fees, now a nigga getting tall millions
Bitch get the fuck out, good riddance
Bitch get the fuck out, you trippin'
You think you finna' swing on my nigga?
That boy get to jumpin' like Tigger
Bitch, what you saying to me?
Man, what you saying to me?
You know the plan B
Ha, you know I'm spazzing
Caught the boy slipping, we laughing
Feel like Michael Jackson, the way that I pull up on bitches and bitches drop down
You know we got glick, nigga pipe the fuck down
More bodies drop in the A then Chi-Town
Stick to ya'll face, nigga get the fuck down
Served him a dummy, he bought the whole pound
Nun' but bad bitches just chill in my lounge
Nigga he pussy, I don't come to round
Nigga he pussy, I knew he was clown
I had got right with a whole new sound
Babywhoa, Babywhoa, Babywhoa, Babywhoa
Spin five days a week just for fun
Real GF nigga, they ain't stuntin'
I'ma spend $100 just like 1's
Pop out the cut and go nuts
I call my brother to pop out the cut, roll your ass like a blunt
You keep on acting like you wit' it, my niggas they pop out the cut with no chicken, a drum
Try me, I'ma get sum'
Babywhoa, I'm the don
They broke as hell, they share alarms
No, I'm not trippin', bring your friend too
All the plates get ate, edible
I'm 3rd world, I'm not original
Pull out them dracos, this shit can get physical
Play with B Whoa, then them boys in a pickle
Yeah, okay I like how this rhyme
Yeah, okay I like how she suck it
I got the Glock, tuck it
Gold karat on me, shit like chicken nugget
He scared of the blick, huh, yeah, he pussy, I know he gon' snitch
Gelato 41, we ain't smokin' on no spliff
Big ass Glock, red tip, switch on that bitch
I fucked her friend, I switched on that bitch
Glock 19, switches on it
Bro hit the phone, got 100 thou' at least
Back in the day when I was 17, I walked around with the Kel-Tec
Scripts in the door, I'm trapping that bitch out, they like, "How you mail that?"
I'm B Whoa, c'mon man
Squash that, you ain't got no plan
I'll really show you who the bad man
He ain't on nothing boy, stop that white flag
Get back gang, you know they toe tag
30 round clip and I bought bro mags
Man, I'm trippin, I'm trippin, I'm trippin
I won't fuck her friend, so I gotta' keep my distance
I got this bitch going, I got her in a blickle
That bitch got the racks, so yea, we finna trick 'em
Yeah, I'm a vamp, got the dogs, sick 'em
Back in the day, used to rip off $100 fees, now a nigga getting tall millions
Bitch get the fuck out, good riddance
Bitch get the fuck out, you trippin'
You think you finna' swing on my nigga?
That boy get to jumpin' like Tigger
Bitch, what you saying to me?
Man, what you saying to me?
You know the plan B
Ha, you know I'm spazzing
Caught the boy slipping, we laughing
Feel like Michael Jackson, the way that I pull up on bitches and bitches drop down
You know we got glick, nigga pipe the fuck down
More bodies drop in the A then Chi-Town
Stick to ya'll face, nigga get the fuck down
Served him a dummy, he bought the whole pound
Nun' but bad bitches just chill in my lounge
Nigga he pussy, I don't come to round
Nigga he pussy, I knew he was clown
I had got right with a whole new sound
Babywhoa, Babywhoa, Babywhoa, Babywhoa
