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legendary drip - ishaan the rit god lyrics

[intro]

baby got that booty, she a legendary b*tch
gary payton in my wood, this some legendary sh*t
magazine got a hunnit, that’s a legendary clip
blew a bag on my fabric, that’s a legendary drip

[verse 1]

ya’ll n*ggas tried to count me out, but i’m back b*tch
lil dawg banging hammers, he judge mathis
balling til’ i hit the league, it’s march madness
blowing on some runts and they dryer than a cactus
i bet you smell cookie on my f*cking birth certificate
air you out like flat tires, move like a vampire
n*gga them woods burning up like a camp fire
he don’t like what the boss said, get that ham fired
it’s so hard not to send a hater straight to satan
life is like a hospital, you gotta have some patience
baby shake that ass for a god and catch a revelation
her booty clapping like a granny at a graduation
k!lled that p*ssy and put her coochie in a casket
i’m a throwback jersey, gave her that hardwood classic
rubber band that money, i light a wood up then i ash it
b*tch my justice poetic, that chop gon sing that janet jackson, n*gga

[hook]

baby got that booty, she a legendary b*tch
gary payton in my wood, this some legendary sh*t
magazine got a hunnit, that’s a legendary clip
blew a bag on my fabric, that’s a legendary drip
baby got that booty, she a legendary b*tch
gary payton in my wood, this some legendary sh*t
magazine got a hunnit, that’s a legendary clip
blew a bag on my fabric, that’s a legendary drip

[verse 2]

i can’t believe you made kids with that rat b*tch
selling p*ssy on the gram, that ain’t no bad b*tch
call my youngin’ jim carrey, he got that mask b*tch
got a check dallas, shout out to mavericks
baby call me master, she a slave to my f*cking wave
quick to leave a opp barbecued, sweet baby rays
you can call me yeezy, i done smashed a couple kimmy k’s
i’m a buccaneer, cause i had a couple tampa bays (baes)
flight to cali, that’s them legendary trips
bouta march to my february b*tch
like a soldier
put a goat on the wall, like a micheal jordan poster
i don’t ask her, i just operate like casper, then i ghost her
all these lames sweeter than a strudel out the toaster
gold bottle team, the gold bottle record holders
b*tch my heart cold, i don’t even think alaska colder
b*tch, it’s third grade, i be putting paper in a folder
[hook]

- ishaan the rit god lyrics

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