ain’t wavin - flacco-z lyrics
yeah i woke up
popped a pilly now i’m rollin’
i just smoked up
aye hit that plug up
i need drank, i gotta soda
you always fightin’ with your demons
you need closure
aye that b*tch ain’t got no booty
so she poke up
he wanna box
then we gon fold him like a folder
b*tch i play the cards i’m dealt but
this ain’t poker
and we touched your mans
cuz he was actin bolder
my momma hate it
that i grew up as a smoker
i ain’t a stoner
smoke so much i am a boulder
i keep one rolled up
i keep my money in my bank
b*tch i don’t fold up
you gon take a l from my big homie
from the nola
put that on my
on my momma and my baby nem
i been a real one
since i was inside a baby crib
i jumped on my high horse
now i’m doin’ some horse racing sh*t
i grew up with family members
that was on that racist sh*t
motherf*ck that racist sh*t
we gon have to make amends
and f*ck the president
he takin all my aliens
i just fell in love
got me feelin’ like i’m eight again
your ex be sending threats
babygirl don’t be afraid of him
i’m breaking him
doo doo
all these racks inside my pocket
got my baby lit
one after another
i ain’t pacing sh*t
all these pills inside my body
on some wavy sh*t
i got the drip, i ain’t wavin’ b*tch
yeah i woke up
popped a pilly now i’m rollin’
i just smoked up
aye hit that plug up
i need drank, i gotta soda
you always fightin’ with your demons
you need closure
aye that b*tch ain’t got no booty
so she poke up
he wanna box
then we gon fold him like a folder
b*tch i play the cards i’m dealt but
this ain’t poker
and we touched your mans
cuz he was actin bolder
my momma hate it
that i grew up as a smoker
and so i told her
at least i’m smokin’ on that good sh*t
when i roll up
she be mad when my car smelling
of the odor
she say if they pull you over
you know it’s over
f*ck it, roll the dice
and pour a four up
i ain’t really into lean
i need some doja
i want that sh*t that smell so good
give me a b*n*r
that sticky sh*t
you need a grinder just to roll up
so i hit my bro up
this ain’t no exotic what u told us
this sh*t ain’t from cali
it’s minnesota
motherf*cker why you tryna hoe us
your hoe been tryna flirt
i’ll tell her hold my kids like a stroller
i know you’ll be mad bro
but why you playin’ round
with my packs tho
now we comin’ to your trap tho
and i know your p*ssy ass
never lock that back door
just relax
doo doo
all these racks inside my pocket
got my baby lit
one after another
i ain’t pacing sh*t
all these pills inside my body
on some wavy sh*t
i got the drip, i ain’t wavin’ b*tch
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