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still sippin - babyface ray, king hendrick$ & sauce walka lyrics

[intro: babyface ray]
welcome to the mob, n*gga
yeah, f*ck with us

[verse 1: babyface ray]
with a georgia peach down peach street
thick b*tch, decent
it get updated every season
closet full of pieces like reese’s
five black trucks at venetian
i was top flow doin’ p sh*t
if the b*tch petty, better leave her
know that bankroll make ’em leeches
know it’s kapital how the jeans fit
tell her, “catch me,” ’cause i’m leanin’
hey, i’m rich as f*ck, i ain’t green, b*tch
i was geeked, lyin’, i ain’t mean it
yeah, cardio, runnin’ bands up
real stand*up, i was playin’ dumb
maybach or the lamb’ truck
carry twenty double rubber band up
yeah, ho n*gga, turn your savage up
put your skirt down, pull your pants up
why you playin’ with that freak b*tch?
let the ho breathe, lose the handcuffs
yeah, vintage tea, sippin’ dinosaur
i’m with t*rex on the ram truck
find out that the bag dirt
kick the door in, tie his fam up
[chorus: king hendrick$]
yeah, quarter million, i’m still sippin’
half a ticket, i’m still sippin’
quarter million, i’m still sippin’
half a ticket, i’m still sippin’

[verse 2: king hendrick$]
yeah, philippe chow with a big plate
one million dollars for a mixtape
i’m in a droptop, trunk in the front
so it look like i’m goin’ this way
i’m on south beach with a bad b*tch
she got her hair down, she got a lil’ waist
rock plain jane with a big face
my syrup thicker than a milkshake
chanel on, got a scale on
got ice bricks, i got heroin
got one fish, got two fish
spend blue strips on a redbone
droptop with no helmet on
put a number on you like a cell phone
my bankroll full of dead faces
got money buried with no headstone

[chorus: king hendrick$]
yeah, quarter million, i’m still sippin’
half a ticket, i’m still sippin’
quarter million, i’m still sippin’
half a ticket, i’m still sippin’
[hook: king hendrick$]
kiss the cell like gene simmons
juice wrld like lil bibby
maybach coupe 650, this boujee b*tch, she sl!ck with it
all black, uganda
two hoes, two condoms
i’m in a lamb’ choppin’, this b*tch drunk
she thought it said lasagna
wave comin’ like katrina, n*gga
in the trackhawk or a demon, n*gga
got real money like fema, n*gga
my stylist comin’, f*ck neiman, n*gga

[verse 3: sauce walka]
drop a deuce in a clean sprite, that’s a pink panther
i’ll make a ho wait three days to get picked like shedeur sanders
drop sauce in the woods, f*ck around and walk out with a deer antler
fire up in the club, drip on a b*tch, turn to a hot candle
what i spent on wockhardt, coulda bought a building or a news channel
can’t speak a l!ck of spanish, how i’m pimpin’ on a b*tch named susanna?
ay dios mío
quagen on quagen, it left me sedated, the purple came out of my pee hole
my lil’ shooter tall as dwight, but i promise you he is not missin’ a free throw
how is these rap n*gga, uh*huh, rap n*gga broke as a cheeto?
how is these rappers performin’ coach*lla but ain’t havin’ money like me though?
surfin’ the cullinan, black submarine, f*ck around and shoot off a torpedo
sellin’ felicia, felicia, felicia and i drop a brick on the deebo
uh*huh, is he a villain or hero? really don’t matter, y’all scoreboard is zero
gallery jeans, ninety dollars every g, but i’m a capital p though (okay)
charging an escalade, it’s electric
bag full of cow sh*t, i’m from texas
sellin’ some k*roll, n*gga, stretch it
we ain’t them friendly n*gga, so respect it
[outro: sauce walka and babyface ray]
ooh*wee, splatt (yeah, yeah)

- babyface ray king hendrick sauce walka lyrics

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