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fuck shit on 10 - 645ar lyrics

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[intro: 10kdunkin]
(hey andrew, what’s up?)
d-mn, uh, d-mn, d-mn, d-mn
the f-ck these n-ggas talkin’ ’bout, man?
s.o.s. sh-t, man
f-ck these n-ggas talkin’ ’bout?
n-ggas tryna hit my f-ckin’ phone-
what the f-ck is wrong wit’ them
hit my phone on that bullsh-t, n-gga, what the f-ck, n-gga?
yeah, yeah

[chorus: 10kdunkin]
i’m on my phone, lil’ b-tch, i’m workin’
racks in my jeans, they think that i’m servin’
i feel like the man in this all black suburban
you trying to do what i do but what’s your purpose?
i’m high as a b-tch, i ain’t touchin’ the surface
think you up to somethin’, why you so nervous?
glock fry a n-gga like the chicken in church’s

[verse 1: 10kdunkin]
(yeah, h-llo? wait, what the f-ck?)
i don’t wanna talk, got racks to my ear
diamonds in my ear, i can barely hear
if you see the money 10k near
if you see the gang 10k near
if you see the bank there
hoppin’ out the foreign smellin’ like a p
nine in my hand, i’l shoot a three
skinny n-gga but i still eat (hey andrew, what’s up?)
b-tch, i been at the bank all week
double cup, it’s darker than ice tea
f-ck a sample, ain’t sh-t in life free
want a feature, i got a fee
want a show, i got a fee
what the f-ck, balenci’ my feet
in the coupe, no back seat

[chorus: 10kdunkin]
i’m on my phone, lil’ b-tch, i’m workin’
racks in my jeans, they think that i’m servin’
i feel like the man in this all black suburban
you trying to do what i do but what’s your purpose?
i’m high as a b-tch, i ain’t touchin’ the surface
think you up to somethin’, why you so nervous?
glock fry a n-gga like the chicken in church’s

[verse 2: 645ar]
(yeah)
had to take sh-t ’cause my pockets was slim
i be wit’ n-ggas that shoot sh-t like jim
pull up to the function, f-ck sh-t on ten (turn up, turn up)
had to get cake, then we jugged you before twelve do
shoot a n-gga then take him out of his shoes
these n-ggas my sons, finna take ’em to school
if i stack up the racks it get taller than you
it’s f-ck you then, still f-ck you now
i got racks and they like, “how?”
milkin’ them racks like a godd-mn cow
we go mental, leave you all in a memory
i know you not backed up, don’t act up
now look at him callin’ for backup
goofy -ss n-gga, get slapped up

[interlude: 645ar]
yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, ay, true story, man, we don’t have to take 2 train, we on foreign on these f-ck n-ggas, man, prolly gl1cked up too

[chorus: 10kdunkin]
i’m on my phone, lil’ b-tch, i’m workin’
racks in my jeans, they think that i’m servin’
i feel like the man in this all black suburban
you trying to do what i do but what’s your purpose?
i’m high as a b-tch, i ain’t touchin’ the surface
think you up to somethin’, why you so nervous?
glock fry a n-gga like the chicken in church’s

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