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beat it (freestyle) - sauce walka & trensetta lyrics

[intro]
ay, let that sh*t ride, tav
ay, dj funk got this bih lit
oooweee
hee, lookin ahh
nahmtalmbout, splash
ooowee

[verse: sauce walka]
just hit the b*tch with the “beat it”, she payin’ me cause she need it
she was outside of my house right after we tweeted
bust down her back and then skeeted
fold sum’ up, she a macbook
this how 500 racks look
walk out, the sauce and the seasoning
guess i’m a black cook
jon bones jones with the back hook
ho, you ain’t drivin’ my car wit’ ya fat foot
you ain’t finna wreck my benz, but you can jump out and start twerking again
put them lips on me, start working again
might play with it, til she squirting again
we can have fun if the percs comin in
you ain’t bringing money, we the worstest of friends
hop out the don, diamond cartier lens
flash on the gram, please [?] all ten
she want the “hee*hee”, i’m selling drip for the fee*fee
none of my flavor is free*free
if she in pocket, then you gotta pay for them chi*chis
and it will not be for cheap*cheap
g*wagon beep*beep
15 cars, that’s a 2 week fleet
grab the jet*ski, imma sneak peek
curry, go three*peat, b*tch at my house is a neat freak
she from j*pan, her name ting ying
[verse: trensetta]
mj sauce, i’m a moonwalk, baby
trensetta, hoe, yeah i been goin crazy
up this b*tch if a n*gga try to play me
if the hoe want love, then the hoe gotta pay me
turn on my sauce, she know it keep pouring
b*tch, i’m too lit. i could never be boring
me and sauce pull up in a maybach foreign
n*gga with a hand out, i ain’t got sh*t for him
say he sold p, yeah he beat me outa 9
imma be right back, pull up with 10
this ain’t sh*t to a n*gga with an m
don’t play with me, b*tch, you know that i’m him
ho only got like 3+ friends
look at my b*tch, she draggin that wagon
it’s goin’ down, if she wake up, it’s crackin’
bought her a birkin, you see she ain’t braggin’
used to whip that work, you know i’ve been crackin
straight drop, beat it up, sell it to crackheads
these ain’t no diamonds, these b*tches is baguettes
you n*ggas can’t f*ck with my fashion
tryna take something you gon’ end up a bad egg
rotten, knock his ass out of his cotton
imma leave him stained like an easter egg project
ion give a f*ck, ion care who watchin
i ain’t for it all, when you come from the projects
sh*t look good through these dior frames
forever eat at p.f. chang’s, one of a kind on my muhf*ckin chain
sauce he different, no condiments, mane
tapped in with mexico, b*tch i ain’t playin’
air out the “beat it”, my glock like a fan
promise on god, they know who i am
if i beat it once, i could beat it again
if i beat again, she gon’ bring me a friend
break that ass off like a tree with no limbs
it’s cold in the winter, treat louis’ like timbs
i need a b*tch with a body like kim
ass so fat, she could fill up a pamper
y’all wanna pull, but y’all know i could stamp her
if you got a bag, you might get a sample
(go crazy!)

- sauce walka trensetta lyrics

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