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all we do - $lim gucci lyrics

[intro: ly]
pull the trigger budd dwyer, ha ha ha ha
ly, i’ma run this b-tch like this

[verse 1: ly]
trap, trap, all we do is trap
f-ckin’ on your b-tch and i got straight cash
cash, cash, smokin’ on that gas
gas, gas twenty b-tches in the back
in the back of the cadillac, i got big stacks
fat b-tch here next to me and i’m hittin’ that
boy we don’t f-ck around, all my hitters do is trap
poppin’ on the f-ckin’ beat and i’m spitting straight facts
pull up on your b-tch and she taking off my clothes
motherf-ckers on my d-ck getting dope for the low
we do this sh-t on stage it’s a motherf-cking show
this sh-t real rap, steady switching up the flow
trap, trap, all we do is trap
always f-cked up, always sippin’ on that yak
your b-tch drunk too and she tryna throw it back
she all in doggy style and i’m finna blow her back
steady with the boys always smoking on that gas
three blunts in the car, see the cops do the dash
big whip, got two f-ckin’ k on the dash
draco, and it spray super fast
run up on me do the dash
wait that’s me sending shots in your f-ckin’ face
got white cups sippin’ on cartier, ak in your sp-ce
p-ssy tastin’ like fishy fillet, oh ay
get that sh-t out my face, white checkers, i’m coming first place
we gon’ pull up where you lay, we gon’ pull up where you stay
sending shots to your brain, to your motherf-ckin’ frame
don’t like to play with you, phoney -ss b-tches
pull up to your house catch you slippin’, i’m drippin’
henny in the front, with a pound in the back
got your main b-tch mackin’ on me steady, that’s a fact
i stay off them pills, them xanny’s, them percs
bop for the low, to flip and reverse
your ma look good, when she in a skirt
might f-ck around, hit it and skrrt
always tryna press but don’t wanna feel the pressure
b-tch wanna play till i put you on a stretcher
crazy -ss white boy, steady lookin’ fresher
now i p-ss the beat to my g, let ‘im get ya

[verse 2: $lim gucci & ly]
b-tch i call you ‘ol yeller, take you out back, make your brain splat
as i c-ck that motherf-cker back, you ain’t like that
51 50 b-tch i’m psycho, bop on the beat like i’m michael, michael
crazy on this motherf-cker, when i pop up with the weapon
leave you motherf-ckers guessing, leave you motherf-ckers stressin’
ridin’ with the smith & wesson, you gon’ learn a f-ckin’ lesson
sayin’ who the f-ck you pressin’, look
oddy ridin’ shotty while i’m grippin’ on the tommy
got $crimmy right behind me and he lookin’ like a zombie
and i’m drugged out and wasted and we lookin’ kinda faded
and it’s gettin’ kinda hazy, got me feelin’ kinda crazy
the way you been actin’ lately woah
kick in your door, blowin’ smoke, how we go
i am that motherf-cker from the north, you know how we roll
got that gat in my lap fully strapped cause
trap, trap all we do is trap
f-ckin’ on your b-tch and i got straight cash
cash, cash, smokin’ on that gas
gas, gas twenty b-tches in the back
trap, trap, all we do is trap
f-ckin’ on your b-tch and i got straight cash
cash, cash, smokin’ on that gas
gas, gas twenty b-tches in the back

[outro: ly]
yeah you know what the f-ck it is boy, it’s ly
ly in this motherf-cker boy, get the f-ck of my d-ck boy
you know what it is mane

- lim gucci lyrics

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