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fast lane - surf lyrics

[intro]
yep, yep, yeah, yeah (yeah)
yeah, yeah (yep), yep, yep (yep)
yep, yep (yep)
sahara, not again
(yeah)

[chorus]
i like bad b*tches (bad b*tches)
i like bad b*tches and big bags (bag)
them red flags look like six flags (yeah)
you ain’t gettin’ money, b*tch, you broke with your b*tch ass
my ex blowin’ my phone like, “what you on with your rich ass?”
yeah, gold up on my chain, got me movin’ like trinidad james
go and get your money back, your shooter got some bad aim
runnin’ to the bag, runnin’ to the bag, fast, mane
nevеr come in last, live my life insidе the fast lane

[verse 1]
woah (woah, woah)
my b*tch got a problem with her attitude
i told that girl to chill ’cause i get mad at you (stop)
you not from the street, not from the block, not from no avenue (stop)
i be in the sky, i’m in that plane, can’t check my altitude (ha)
stripper girlfriend, dressed in all the latest (latest)
she like all that leather sh*t, she put on new bottega, yeah (bottega)
white girl on my d*ck, she rockin’ uggs, she so basic, uh
drinkin’ casamigo like it’s water, i can’t taste it
[chorus]
i like bad b*tches (bad b*tches)
i like bad b*tches and big bags (bag)
them red flags look like six flags (yeah)
you ain’t gettin’ money, b*tch, you broke with your b*tch ass
my ex blowin’ my phone like, “what you on with your rich ass?”
yeah, gold up on my chain, got me movin’ like trinidad james
go and get your money back, your shooter got some bad aim
runnin’ to the bag, runnin’ to the bag, fast, mane
never come in last, live my life inside the fast lane

[verse 2]
i don’t need no auto with no auto, i go crazy too
get inside his spot and push him out like he a baby tooth
walk inside his house and f*ck his wife inside his baby room
bullets stay connected to his head like we just taped it to him
feel like i’m a waiter with this beef, i might just take it to him
i know that you be prayin’ to your god, i might just take you to him
i can’t sit around and go broke, know i gotta make a move (nah)
she don’t wanna do what i say, bet that money make her do it (ha)
i don’t wanna make a problem, i just wanna make some music
she gon’ try to make a scene, this b*tch gon’ really make me lose it (yeah)
paper comin’ in, it’s stupid thick, can’t stick a staple through it
runnin’ through the paint, i tuck the rock, i got a cradle through it

- surf lyrics

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