andy - lazer dim 700 lyrics
[intro]
(mm, trill got that juice, n*gga)
f*ck ([?])
i’m, i’m on? like, like, we on— i’m on here?
f*ck
i’m on? they got me on? alright
f*ck, f*ck, f*ck, f*ck
ayy, watch out, ayy, watch out
i’m on, like— i’m on?
f*ck, f*ck
ayy, watch out, ayy, watch out
hahahahaha
see, i know what to—
see, haha, see i know what to do right here, i know what to do right here
f*ck
[verse]
you gon’ catch me outside, you gon’ f*ckin’ see me
i know you done changed, i can f*ckin’ peep it
i could’ve been spinned the other side, i just need a reason
my music play in spain, i’m just f*ckin’ speakin’
n*gga see you in that range, n*gga leave you leakin’
lil’ twin ain’t insane, it’s for social media
i tried to stay up for that breakfast, my hotel room messy
i can’t get too happy for tonight, i just might burn my blessings
and i only put on black, sh*t, i don’t even need accessories
then i spеnt a five in saks fifth, i had to take a second
you can’t gеt revived when you get hit with this mac*11
i thought your square was on your arm, why you pull out chrome
i just smoked the spot, they detect with a smoke alarm
i just post a drop, told an opp come and spin a car
n*ggas pillow talk and c*ckblock, but they don’t make it far
anything could be easy in your life, you just make it hard
i can’t even sleep, i got drugs in my f*ckin’ heart
you can’t even sleep, you got pain your f*ckin’ heart
she can’t even sleep, she got pain in her f*ckin’ heart
i just put a spread with a spread, i just made it more
told you, “eighty*five for that seven,” you gave me eighty*four
where the f*ck you reside? we gon’ mail it, put shots at your door
i just smoke that ‘za, i be geeked, i be f*ckin’ cookin’
i ain’t never gon’ get my regular life back, too many f*ckin’ buckets
i just put on black, i attack when you ain’t even lookin’
look inside the mirror, i jump back, i just seen a boogie
n*ggas ain’t even that, they just act, they be really ruckus
over here, your face card bad, your face card bad
over here, my face card straight, my face card good
n*gga ain’t help me run up no pape’, but it’s all good
n*gga got a name on his foot, it’s his big homie
n*gga got a name on his foot, it’s his big homie
[outro]
f*ck, f*ck, f*ck, f*ck, f*ck
(mm, trill got that juice, n*gga)
([?])
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