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nohook - mycheeksarered lyrics

i bought designer, these diamonds they diss me
n*gga designer from china, that’s risky (huh)

he got them racks in my pants
i walk in a function, they all tryna frisk me (huh)
he know they not f*ckin’ with me
we hit the store and i spend it like 50
lately these rappers these days don’t impress me
rap about shootin’ look like they gon’ diss me

t*t*talk about losin’
yo’ bank account empty
talk about winnin’
i just made a thou’ in a week (huh)
they ain’t allow me to eat ’till
i boss up on ’em, get that count, then i’ll leave
they can’t run up on me
got one eye on the streets (huh)
bet that she lyin’ to me
i might cuff her, i spent so much time in the sheets
now you stressin’ ’cause she ain’t replied in a week (huh)

she gotta go, she been tweakin’ ’bout beefin’
no speakin’
i leaved and it’s close
feel like lately this beef sh*t is old
like i’m hard in the paint
you can tell all this green that i blow
and good weed and them designer clothes
i need (?) for millions now tweakers repeatin’ my phone
told her “bro we no secret no more”
she a freak, call her tina
i’m reachin’ and greetin’ yo’ ho
only sleazin’ them cheeks for the bros (huh, yeah)
i (?)
i know they p*ssy like i let them try and pull up
they won’t do sh*t, they could get all kinds of f*cked up
told a p*ssy run up, he get tried with his luck
when your girl on me, i know she tryna get f*cky
i can’t mess with your shorty, no stressin’
i just get the next more impressive lil’ dime at the club (huh)
i get that check, and i flip it
i cannot relax with that bag
why would i wanna relax
when i could quadruple my cash
now they see me livin’, it’s facts (huh)

smoke good gas, that’s diesel
bring a b*tch back, like after we f*ck
changed your contact name to “dr. evil”
i’on care if she won’t gossip me though

yeah
these (?) straps on my sneakers
the straps in my pants but my pants is balenci’
they can’t stop it, i’m poppin’
you not f*ckin’ wit’ me
if the (?) gon’ give top, she get tossed like a (?)
she gon’ slop’, no stop, blow the top
she can kiss me
boy you nod to my pocket them hundreds and fifties
no one gossip ’bout profits, just hundies and tickies
all i talk ’bout is profit, that’s all that i’m getting (huh)

yeah
yeah
ooh
yeah
yeah
yeah
yeah
yeah
b*tch
huh, yeah, f*ck
i ran it up, got some commas
now they claimin’ me like they claimin’ belongings
i pick up that check while she flip
reinvest in my pocket
they tryna talk in my comments
only thing present that’s up on my mind is that profit
he get too close to my kicks, i might stop him
he ain’t gon’ post up
b*tch, let’s be honest
versace my frames
and i message your baby, that’s prada (huh)

i cannot hang with these groupies
my schedule busy
please take you a number
i call in yo’ ass when i’m ready
and if my ass don’t, that’s a bummer
i’m tryna blow for the summer
10k cash on the neck
what the f*ck is a budget?
he doin’ (?) then it’s come through
i put in all that i got, ’cause i know that i sure don’t get younger

yeah
b*tch, huh
f*ck is you talkin’ ’bout
stupid

- mycheeksarered lyrics

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