"Suit & Tie!" lyrics
(Dylvinci got the code)
Fa, Fa, Gang, Fbeee
Fa, Gang, Fbeee
Why these niggas be talking a lot?
Holon, draw down, hit yo' top
Got a four in my cup, lil' nigga just copped (Plugg)
I got too damn high, forgot what I bought
Ch-Choppa cook him tater tot
Nigga ain't fit in, took him right out the plot
New day, new check, it's 12 on the clock
I hit a jay, I'm getting to fried
I'm steady making hits I don't even try
Business attire, got suit and a tie
I get fried, don't get tired, I Still got drive
They said I wouldn't do it, nigga I did it
Bro-Bronem tossed me a lil bag, and I flip it
Boy you riding in a cab, I ride black truck
You either not with the swag, or you with it
These niggas don't ever wan' talk about no money I'm getting a bunch
I'm fucking these bad bitches by the bunch
Freak hoe, eat up the dick for lunch
This gas that I smoke it smell like skunk
When I leave got the black truck posted out front
Niggas acting extra extra, we'll put you on the news
I get hoes, by the bunch, don't gotta choose (Plugg!)
Thought he knew my game, he ain't have a clue
R-Red flag on me, but no I'm not Ru'
H-Head tap homie, get hit with that tool
B-Bad bitch wet, Dasani, pool
I remember them days getting kicked out the school
Now I'm too up I could buy the whole school
Freak hoe, shaking ass, mule
Flew her out she off the tabs too, (Yuh, Yuh)
Why these niggas be talking a lot?
Holon, draw down, hit yo' top
Got a four in my cup, lil' nigga just copped (Plugg)
I got too damn high, forgot what I bought
Ch-Choppa cook him tater tot
Nigga ain't fit in, took him right out the plot
New day, new check, it's 12 on the clock
I hit a jay, I'm getting to fried
I'm steady making hits I don't even try
Business attire, got suit and a tie
I get fried, don't get tired, I Still got drive
They said I wouldn't do it, nigga I did it
Bro-Bronem tossed me a lil bag, and I flip it
Boy you riding in a cab, I ride black truck
You either not with the swag, or you with it
(On God) (On God) (On God) Fa Fa, Gang Gang Gang Grrta ba ba!
Fa, Fa, Gang, Fbeee
Fa, Gang, Fbeee
Why these niggas be talking a lot?
Holon, draw down, hit yo' top
Got a four in my cup, lil' nigga just copped (Plugg)
I got too damn high, forgot what I bought
Ch-Choppa cook him tater tot
Nigga ain't fit in, took him right out the plot
New day, new check, it's 12 on the clock
I hit a jay, I'm getting to fried
I'm steady making hits I don't even try
Business attire, got suit and a tie
I get fried, don't get tired, I Still got drive
They said I wouldn't do it, nigga I did it
Bro-Bronem tossed me a lil bag, and I flip it
Boy you riding in a cab, I ride black truck
You either not with the swag, or you with it
These niggas don't ever wan' talk about no money I'm getting a bunch
I'm fucking these bad bitches by the bunch
Freak hoe, eat up the dick for lunch
This gas that I smoke it smell like skunk
When I leave got the black truck posted out front
Niggas acting extra extra, we'll put you on the news
I get hoes, by the bunch, don't gotta choose (Plugg!)
Thought he knew my game, he ain't have a clue
R-Red flag on me, but no I'm not Ru'
H-Head tap homie, get hit with that tool
B-Bad bitch wet, Dasani, pool
I remember them days getting kicked out the school
Now I'm too up I could buy the whole school
Freak hoe, shaking ass, mule
Flew her out she off the tabs too, (Yuh, Yuh)
Why these niggas be talking a lot?
Holon, draw down, hit yo' top
Got a four in my cup, lil' nigga just copped (Plugg)
I got too damn high, forgot what I bought
Ch-Choppa cook him tater tot
Nigga ain't fit in, took him right out the plot
New day, new check, it's 12 on the clock
I hit a jay, I'm getting to fried
I'm steady making hits I don't even try
Business attire, got suit and a tie
I get fried, don't get tired, I Still got drive
They said I wouldn't do it, nigga I did it
Bro-Bronem tossed me a lil bag, and I flip it
Boy you riding in a cab, I ride black truck
You either not with the swag, or you with it
(On God) (On God) (On God) Fa Fa, Gang Gang Gang Grrta ba ba!
Writer(s): David Wallace, Dylan James Ruddy
