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intro - guapo lyrics

[intro]
(run that sh*t up, squill)
ayy

[verse]
gucci and prada what i spend my dollars on
i’m in the trap one deep like it’s home alone
and i play all of these hoes like a xylophone
these freaky lil’ b*tches keep callin’ my iphone
uh, it’s the wockiki for me in the styrofoam
play with me, you gon’ d*i*e, that’s what i’m on
i put a b*a*g on his head, i can get him gone
i know a shooter dude, he’s rockin’ vlone
these n*ggas’ hoes on my d*ck, won’t leave me alone
when i f*cked your ho, she brought a bag for the sleepin’ clothes
but this ain’t no sleepover, b*tch, this an eat*over (ayy)
mouth full of meat, that lil’ ho, she a meat lover
five hundred just for my cup, i’m no cheap drugger
vvs all on my t**th when i speak up
ballin’ too hard, man, these n*ggas can’t d up (uh)
i just cashed out on a ‘fit cost your re*up
you hate from the bleachers ’cause you wanna be us
just got head from a b*tch say she from costa rica
only f*ck models, just hit mona lisa
all of my b*tches is foreign with visa
uh, hit from the back and she tappin’, i beat her
and i kicked that ho out ’cause she asked me to eat her
hey, i stay with a heater ’cause sh*t can get evil
i bring this sh*t to your door like a pizza
glock in my locker like gilbert arenas
dracs in neimans, i love when i squeeze ’em
i’m not blueface, hit the block and i bleed ’em
i might go super saiyan, call lil guap vegeta
uh, can’t trust a ho ’cause these b*tches be cheatin’
i just run to the check, i don’t rock no adidas
i rock that designer drip, you won’t catch me in filas
and i just be f*ckin’ and duckin’, got hoes in they feelings

- guapo lyrics

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