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ruby - tank god & smooky margielaa lyrics

[chorus: smooky margielaa]
i can never dream about a hoe, huh
you ain’t on my type of time
i said, ”you gon’ have to go”
made bands off a whole lotta rhymes
grind, time, i gotta trap no more
got lowballed when he got signed
block number shooters callin’ my line
trap n*gga, what you know ’bout baggin’ up a dime?
young black n*gga, i know they don’t wanna see me shine
you smell that, huh, give it back n*gga (oh, oh)
get a bag n*gga
you talk a lot, but ain’t that bigger (oh, oh)

[verse 1: smooky margielaa & smokepurpp]
you said you was with that, how you gon’ rap n*gga?
so i had a big bag, came and tried to sn*tch n*gga
i stay with the same gang, you be ridin’ mad n*ggas
i’m with mad n*ggas, but they all my n*ggas
go out, want lil’ boy, i got mob ties
yeah i put east side but i’m on the west side (east side, it’s dark)
you don’t move right, get left on the left side
you don’t move right, get left on the left
big v on my chest, where you from? get checked
i’m a bronx ass n*ggas, grew up in the jets
been three days straight and i still ain’t slept

[verse 2: smokepurpp]
young n*gga, i was breakin’ down ps on the west side
keep an fn and a chop, we havin’ mob ties
take ’em but they don’t slide, cullinan i ghost drive
it’s been like seventy*two hours and i’m still on drank
put the p*ssy to the start and then i strap
all up in your city, take it back and take a jet
if he want some beef i cook it up just like a chef
i just want it now lil’ baby, he can keep the rest
put that sh*t on, yeah, they love how i drip
forty*five k, see me once in this fit
i’ma take his man, she get turnt to my b*tch
she in the room, feed her percs, give her d*ck
i’ma beat the p*ssy from the back side
we ain’t f*ckin’ with these n*ggas playin’ both sides
i got tank up on the beat, we tryna blow some
send the cashapp to my b*tch to get her toes done

[chorus: smooky margielaa]
i can never dream about a hoe, huh
you ain’t on my type of time
i said, “you gon’ have to go”
made bands off a whole lotta rhymes
grind, time, i gotta trap no more
got lowballed when he got signed
block number shooters callin’ my line
trap n*gga, what you know ’bout baggin’ up a dime?
young black n*gga, i know they don’t wanna see me shine
you smell that, huh, give it back n*gga (oh, oh)
get a bag n*gga
you talk a lot, but ain’t that bigger (oh, oh)

- tank god smooky margielaa lyrics

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