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lirik lagu pop out – asa ft. connor brandt

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[asa]

sandbox stories in the sh-ts since a d-mn child
early mornin glory on the grind for a while now
wake up every mornin and i gotta thank god now
i been blessed wit a talent and i’m climbing on the rise now
i’m just tryna make sure that my name will never die out
speakin on my name like beetle juice i’m finna pop out
watch out i might get too heated i’m finna black out
how he got a twelve car garage still in the trap house

caught him movin way too shady i’m tryna tell him
he ain’t gon be swipin when i sn-tch his cerebellum
empty the pipe leavin it smokin just like a chillum
tryna figure out who who did it but it’s best to not remember
leave a draft through his chest gettin chilly like mid december
paramedics, 10 minutes, his chances are gettin slimmer
tryna see the light in the tunnel it’s gettin dimmer
praying for forgiveness cuz i know i been a sinner

and i’ma get straight to the point no needa beat around it
i’ma f-ckin stack to the bread can’t even eat without it
take some of that b-ss out your voice you best not be shouting
i might beat yo -ss wit my crew it’s jus a public outing
i might have to spin it again the block go round an round
and i might have to do it for them
i’m talkin bout the crowds
screaming sayin they want the man
up on the stage with loud in hand
we jus makin them bands
swear this sh-t will never end
i got the hustle and paper because that sh-t go hand in hand
and i been ballin like lakers i’m finna blow a hundred grand
and i’m jus tryna get rich and buy the sh-t i never had
don’t give a f-ck boutta b-tch i’ll even pull up on her man
he talkin tough then then i’ll iron him like a f-ckin fryin pan
i appreciate the effort but ain no point in tryin man
i understand that you can’t hustle bring it back an try again
an yo b-tch in my room i got her doin handstands

b-tch im spittin lava for a minute there i lost it
how i’m so hot but still dripping jus like a faucet
grin so clean i ain even into flossin
game on lock its a throw up i’m finna toss it

gas on full got it comin in from the tropics
sack too big it start falling out of my pockets
b-tch i’m lit ain n0body out there could top it
in the afterlife poppin bottles with mr. rogers

how i turn a 4 door into a piggy bank?
how i’m still conscious off the cookies it’s really dank?
how i’m makin bands but you stuck in the center lane?
how you say you made it but you ain makin anything?
how i’m finna fake it cuz that b-tch want a wedding ring?
flaming on the snakes thought it was mid eastern catering
i be goin too hard imma need me a gatorade
i’m jus tryna hustle get the money an finer things

[connor brandt]

whipping that work in the front seat
ride twenty deep you can’t touch me
talkin all big but he scared of his shadow
i know when i pull up they’ll duck me

i ain’t make enough off the songs
so i got the plug put me on
i know i can’t right all my wrongs
so i’m finna smoke til i’m gone

know we always up to somethin
f-ck 12 cuz they can’t tell me nothin
facts in my rap ain’t no frontin
you better be ready we comin

b-tch i can’t bring you a gram
come thru and watch him get scammed
you ain’t pullin weight cuz you can’t
i won’t ever switch on the fam

me and the team just been stackin the cheese to the ceiling conceal it and split it
(aye)
i ain’t ever seen all these digits
(nah)
i wasted my time on these b-tches

gettin this guap i don’t care bout your plans
we been smokin on pressure it’s high in demand
started movin the packs and i got a few fans
i can’t walk out the house without drip and a band

walk out the crib and i’m saucin
i got a new thotty you know that she flossin
she look like a goddess
and told me i’m flawless
so i’m finna smash and then make a deposit

smokin on woods i can’t f-ck with no edibles
you smokin dirt while i’m rollin up medical
can’t see your garbage i’m too far ahead of you
all of your bars are just way too forgettable

b-tch

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