"11:11" lyrics

Lil Kayla, what's up?

Thought I had me a real nigga, that was cap
Just made a call to the streets, bitch, I'm back
My old jawns tapping in like, "Where you at?"
One call, one tap, the nigga face up in my lap
11:11, God, send a nigga with them racks
Don't really like scammers, I want the nigga flippin' packs
And hoes always talking 'bout Kayla this and Kayla that
But did you tell them hoes how Kayla never gave your nigga back?
Bitch, yesterday's nigga, he is not today's nigga
If you coming, come correct, nigga, have that pape' with you
I don't want no lil' pup, gotta have some age with him
All my niggas Tyler Perry 'cause I'm making plays with 'em
Ayy, shoutout my bro, he a real gravedigger
You won't catch him on no pic with no bitch, he hate Insta'
'Bout me, fuck your politics, I don't play, nigga
Couple bitches still mad 'cause I was fucking they nigga
Please excuse me, baby, that's the old me
But when my nigga got fucked, nobody came and told me
It's fair game with niggas, all these bitches ever showed me
And you can't up the score on me, so baby, let it go, please
Anyways, finna go with dude up on a dinner date
I'm at Mastro's eating salmon, I don't really get with steaks
Really, I just want some money, get my lil' pussy ate
And I don't really got a type, be out here doin' anything
Look, this nigga been chasin' me for years, Michael Myers
I keep tellin' niggas that I love 'em, I'm a liar
I don't hit them stores no more, lil' baby, I'm retired
But you can call my phone if you looking for a buyer
Move wrong, get your ass popped like a tire
I won't break a nail, my niggas murder for hire
Dripped down Dior, Balenci for the attire
I keep a play up, still getting checks from Empire