Lyrics

You've got voicemail
Bag getters dot com, I just logged in
Bitch you ain't really bout it, you just larping
Got Hank and Cy with me til it's darkness
Run a check, play a set, are you up yet
I can't count all the fifties, you broke
Don't send me DM's if you gonna ghost
All these hoes got red ring of death, bitch you toast
I feel like a boss but my bros do the most
I'mma run it up, I'mma run it up
Pouring G-Fuel up in my double cup
Said she got enough shine for the both of us
Yeah she said she want me back like I give a fuck
Simping ass bitch that's what she think I'm on
Got no love for the hoe but she comment on my songs
Got a real one by mе, might right my wrongs
I ain't ever stressеd on an ex-bitch yeah so long
I'mma steal your bitch dot com, logged in
I'mma take this shit and I'mma raise it to a 10
Your girl think I'm an 8, she gone take it on the chin
I don't play like that, play my song and I'mma dip
Take me to your best friend's house
Fuck around, I'm freaking out
I can string these fingers out
I can hear it leaking out
I just pass the shit around
Hit the shit I'm passing out
She says that I'm freaking out
I just pull my wallet out
We stacking green stacks, you still hold 'em like chips
I might take a nap, wake up with another zip
I might hit her back but I'm never gonna chill
I'm sitting with my pack, you still tripping down a hill
Bag getters dot com
Always logged in
Always online, baby
Always talkin'
Bag getters dot com
Always logged in
Always online, baby
Always talkin'
Written by: Quinton Miller, Tristan Mullins
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