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no carbs - bfb da packman lyrics

[intro]
(the lunch crew company, i’m part of that)
yeah
yeah
y’ello (caasi, what it do?)
y’ello, look (skrrt)

[verse]
my b*tch look like blakeiana
i’m not into sellin’ dreams, i got pape’ for that v*g*n*
with a south dallas b*tch at carbone eatin’ baked lasagna
in the studio with ye, we hit our knees and prayed to donda (no)
that n*gga god was jealous
lebron from the o and i’m from flint, i can’t ride with stephen (woo)
drink water only, make exceptions for a wocky beverage
glock with a switch, when i shoot, it sound like 9/11 (yoom)
only rap n*gga i relate to is benny the butcher
need my sh*t straight out the brick, n*gga tried to serve me cook*up
b*tch said i’m losin’ weight, no carbs and hittin’ push*ups
man, this b*tch so bad, had to give her ass a whooping
been puttin’ belt to ass, need to get that boy a cushion
i respect keyshia ka’oir for that sh*t she did for gucci
need a b*tch to turn five million to twenty when i look up
but they just wanna spend it, stress me out, and give me p*ssy (no)
flint n*gga in this b*tch, i’m with the new dallas
i’m h*rny right now, but i’m rappin’, hit my boo after (come on)
hundred*dollar zips, swear to god i hate these new trappers
a fly got in my food at chick*fil*a, i need a new salad (new salad, b*tch)
proved myself five years straight and they still doubt me
doctor told me stop sippin’ syrup and i’m still downin’
told my b*tch no chanel this month and she still poutin’
love missbnasty, wish that she could suck a kid out me (woo)
i don’t wanna hear you talk tough, b*tch, where them numbers at? (numbers at)
i need the commas with the numbers that’s in front of that
in the kitchen whippin’ white girl, she my punchin’ bag (punchin’ bag)
and if this b*tch don’t jump back, then i’ma dump her ass (b*tch)
huh*huh, mr. only serve a1
i ain’t tryna kick it with you n*ggas like a fake punt
all these n*ggas say they got ‘za made me hate runtz (yoom)
b*tch, my pockets big as h*ll, look like dave blunts (yoom)
b*tch, my pockets big as h*ll, look like bfb (woo)
b*tch, my pockets big as h*ll, like bigxthaplug
certified eater, when i see her, give her neck a hug
n*ggas stingy to they own mama, but’ll help a sl*t (yuck)
[outro]
(woo)

- bfb da packman lyrics

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