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fuccgirls - greedy macc lyrics

[intro]
(the netwerk)

[chorus: greedy macc & pap chanel]
f*ckboys, f*ckgirls
f*ckboys, f*ckgirls
b*tches don’t like the real n*ggas no more
seem like f*ckboys run the world
f*ckboys, f*ckgirls
f*ckboys, f*ckgirls
n*ggas don’t like the real b*tches no more
n*ggas like the f*ckgirls

[verse 1: greedy macc & pap chanel]
run around with this hundred bands (hundred bands)
another hundred for my summer plans (summer plans)
twenty carats on my wrist, n*gga
the rolex on my other hand
tell her we don’t put gas in the tesla (h*ll nah)
but it’s cash stashed in the dresser (ayy)
told the pilot push the gas on the private jet (let’s go)
from the eastside, but a fly n*gga holler back
look fly in my solid hat, yeah
she just really want a prada sack, yeah
she just really wanna blow a n*gga, oh
i just really want my hour back
f*ckboys, f*ckgirls (f*ck ’em)
f*ckboys, f*ckgirls (f*ck ’em)
that’s a foreign in the front, another foreign in the front
n*gga mike jordan when i jump, go
fat n*gga with some stones in my backpack
b*tches in my grill like a rat pack
she gon’ start it off with a lapdance
then i’ma clean it up like hazmat
sit back, sippin’ ’42 (’42)
two bricks hit for forty*two (forty*two)
you get hit with the 42 (42)
my bread long like a 42 (42)
red bottoms in a dust bag (yeah)
balenciagas for a couple racks (yup)
cuban ’gars with the wooden match (woah)
the eastside brought the hood back
say less, don’t start that (shut up)
hater sh*t, disregard that
and right here where i get my bread (for sure)
same place where i starved at (starved at)
[chorus: greedy macc & pap chanel]
f*ckboys, f*ckgirls
f*ckboys, f*ckgirls
b*tches don’t like the real n*ggas no more
seem like f*ckboys run the world
f*ckboys, f*ckgirls
f*ckboys, f*ckgirls
n*ggas don’t like the real b*tches no more
n*ggas like the f*ckgirls

[verse 2: pap chanel]
if you a real n*gga, we can probably conversate
but i ain’t talkin’ ’less it’s ’bout the money anyway
i can peep a f*ck n*gga at a blind date
caesar, f*ck hoes up the crime rate
count the money, ease the mind so i drive straight
then i eat on these hoes, make ’em hydrate
get the m, it ain’t hard just to find hate (uh*huh, yeah)
now i’m movin’ on these hoes, f*ck the time rate (b*tch)
my main focus catch flight
never have stress over n*ggas all night
i’ma put myself before any other b*tch
i don’t really give a f*ck, lil’ b*tch, we can fight (we can fight)
keep a telescope on the ho
you don’t know when these hoes gonna switch, so i watch out the sight
only be with real*ass b*tches, always gettin’ to the riches
don’t get mad you don’t get no invite (pap, b*tch)
[chorus: greedy macc & pap chanel]
f*ckboys, f*ckgirls
f*ckboys, f*ckgirls
b*tches don’t like the real n*ggas no more
seem like f*ckboys run the world
f*ckboys, f*ckgirls
f*ckboys, f*ckgirls
n*ggas don’t like the real b*tches no more
n*ggas like the f*ckgirls

- greedy macc lyrics

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