Got closer to my London bitch, I call her Millie Bobby'
Broke boy shooter take out a hundred hits, not one of 'em hit yo' body
Right now I'm outside, running shit, that pussy-ass boy won't copy
We heard yo' boyfriend talkin' miss, my man just said he got him
We turn yo' block to a bloody mess, got everybody running
I turn my cup to bloody red, I cannot see the sun
Big on my fuckin' head, I cannot see my sons
You play about my fuckin' bread, one call, I get it done

We box 'em up
I ain't put no gloves on, I really can't give no fucks
Right now I'm out the ozone
T—This bitch shake her butt
I told her: Come here and throw some
You better not stop at that light
We turn yo' wig to scraps, big Glock, this not no fight
Oh, you didn't come to scrap?
No ho' been on my mind
I'm thinkin' 'bout my racks, big Perky got me flyin'
Nah, there ain't no comin' back, just told her I'm not comin' back

Got closer to my London bitch, I call her Millie Bobby'
Broke boy shooter take out a hundred hits, not one of 'em hit yo' body
Right now I'm outside, running shit, that pussy-ass boy won't copy
We heard yo' boyfriend talkin' miss, my man just said he got him
We turn yo' block to a bloody mess, got everybody running
I turn my cup to bloody red, I cannot see the sun
Big on my fuckin' head, I cannot see my sons
You play about my fuckin' bread, one call, I get it done

Yeah, one call, I get it done
She got an ass like basketball, that shit go up and down (Yeah)
He hit me then I laugh it off, now that boy six feet under
Fuck this bitch, better air it out 'cause her mans comin' over, (Uh, damn)
Haha, I said: Gotta teach them how to box it up
Really got money, I lost a lot
Copped the lil' kicks, ties 'em up
Ride with them sticks, protection
You should ride dick, you talk a lot
Yeah, better take notes like this my TedTalk
I use my big-boy voice, not inside
Bad lil' bitch and I make her bed rock
She really know how to make my head rock
This is like Heaven, Heaven, Heaven
She did like seven, seven, seven
Big dick, that's what I'm giving, giving
Throw that shit back, like, get it, get it
She love the way I hit it, hit it
This is my life, I'm amazing-mazing

Got closer to my London bitch, I call her Millie Bobby'
Broke boy shooter take out a hundred hits, not one of 'em hit yo' body
Right now I'm outside, running shit, that pussy-ass boy won't copy
We heard yo' boyfriend talkin' miss, my man just said he got him
We turn yo' block to a bloody mess, got everybody running
I turn my cup to bloody red, I cannot see the sun
Big on my fuckin' head, I cannot see my sons
You play about my fuckin' bread, one call, I get it done