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bankstr3tch - str3tch lyrics

[intro]
aye hollow run that hoe back
aye
aye aye (hollow)
aye hollow turn me up
b*tch
d*mn hollow

[verse 1: erica banks]
rock and i roll and i hop on this hoe
ain’t no pen i go straight off the top
turn up the bass, lil’ hoe back up out my face
aim that lil’ beam at a opp
hoe i got shooters, hoe i got b*tches who fight
pick what you want in a second
i don’t go rest to club with these b*tches no more
cause these b*tches ain’t real and they messy
hoe i’m the sh*t, no we ain’t stunning yo b*tch
hoe mad i’m running with top off
he coming over no he spending the night
pull up i’m taking the lock off
aye talking that sh*t from thе side sh*t
trip and they knocking yo block off
how you talk all that sh*t from a distance
but can’t buy thе real cause you rocking the knock off
aye lil’ boy go pull up yo pants
counting the pacer then do my lil’ dance
know that sh*t back and he all in a stance
can’t get my number i don’t want a man
how you gone beef when you still got a job b*tch
talk to me when you can quit
how you beef with a b*tch who been harder than you
beef with me when you can spit
i don’t know how cause they know my sh*t poppin
know my sh*t bumpin’ i do it for real
i ain’t be rapping a year in this hoe, but i’m here in this hoe
and i turned down to two deals
i be on camera like “abrakadabra”
pull out the mic they like how do you feel
i’m on a mission on top of these b*tches
just roll me blunt but i’m good on them pills b*tch

[verse 2: str3tch]

hit that lil b*tch skrrt she dropped off
this off the top reverse it top off
n*ggas want beef but we keep that iron
but we still goin’ swing turn this b*tch into top golf
flow so sick go me nauseous
top off cut shooting dice into offices
it’s crazy we really be turning down offers
you can jump like kriss if you kross us
b*tch eat my lap while i’m changing lanes
sh*t sound like meghan and wayne
keep two sticks got them striped on some sh*t
imma up it goin’ look like i’m raising canes
you don’t want smoke n*ggas(?)
you n*ggas holding in up scripts
pockets got c*notes, blue hunnids, whatever
we in the strip club and we throwing crip
don’t f*ck with no pills but you can get drugs
we ain’t got time to be holding no grudge
don’t be confused i ain’t talking bout weed
but we will roll up and smoke all of your buds
i kinda miss pouring up mud
boys be be weak but act all tough in the club
lying you act like bang, you jump by the gang
have you and n*ggas out throwing up blood
hitter so big by the double we blitzing
b*tches suck d*ck no cutter no kissing
got enough game to make any hoe listen
chains on my neck like a video vixen
dancing b*tch throw that ass like a tantrum
she ate the d*ck behind tent like we camping
all this dough and all this flow y’all probably think a n*gga talk about a mansion
i got bars im a rapper
own this bars like a rapper
i don’t drink lean no more i done seen more scripts than an actor
i use to sip medical drank, rap better than me that a h*ll of a prank
sis you better watch these b*tches they snitches
they just some talentless erica bank (got d*mn hold up’)

- str3tch lyrics

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