lirik lagu special – cash kidd & ohgeesy
[intro: cash kidd]
(can we have a check, please?)
ayy
[chorus: cash kidd]
woke up to some money and some neck in bed
stuntin’ all in traffic, n*gga, jackie chan
my new b*tch called, do i want her head?
how you fumble me? ho, you special ed
hit his top again, he might be actin’ dead
now that goofy walkin’ out in heaven like he jackin’ it
i got forty thousand in these baggy pants
your b*tch lookin’ single, better grab her hand (huh, huh, huh, yeah)
[verse 1: cash kidd]
corny*ass boy, i know your b*tch tired of fakin’
all the hoes i used to wanna hit, now they basic
lambo’, new model, we lеt tyra banks in
i up and shake this sh*t up like a spray can
detеctives keep lookin’ for my prints like i wear gray pants
we keep spinnin’ on they ass, but i don’t break dance
yeah, i wish a n*gga would like taye diggs
old b*tch wanna talk it out, what about?
b*tch keep beggin’ me to leave it in, what? your mouth?
stop hittin’ her from the front, like a nerd, sl*t her out, n*gga
five, six, seven, four, but i ain’t tuckin’ out, huh
sloppy*ass neck, couldn’t help her clutch her scalp
pulled up on ari with my hands out, like, “what’s the count?”
all her red bottoms on like krusty clown
p*rnstar, pull up wit’ a hundred rounds, n*gga
[chorus: cash kidd & ohgeesy]
woke up to some money and some neck in bed
stuntin’ all in traffic, n*gga, jackie chan
my new b*tch called, do i want her head?
how you fumble me? ho, you special ed
hit his top again, he might be actin’ dead
now that goofy walkin’ out in heaven like he jackin’ it
i got forty thousand in these baggy pants (geesy)
your b*tch lookin’ single, better grab her hand (pull up, pull up—)
[verse 2: ohgeesy]
pull up to the trap, finna bag some grams (ayy)
pull up to the club, finna throw some bands (bands)
b*tch, you ain’t a ho, tryna grab my hand (watch out)
we’ll air this b*tch out, bet’ grab your mans (pew, pew)
do my own stunts like i’m jet li (ba*kow)
put three bad b*tches on one jet*ski (zoom)
all the hoes wanna cuff, but can’t arrest me
if selling drugs was a sport, i won a espy, ayy
kidd, what’s poppin’?
forever tied in, we so locked in (that’s my n*gga)
we gon’ go platinum in the streets, top ten (ten, yeah)
yellow gold or white gold, i got options (ayy)
diamonds in my t**th match the cartiers
f*ck a nine*to*five, i got the smarter way
when i shop at louis, they pour chardonnay
when i spent at louis, n*gga, could’ve bought a car today (skrrt)
[chorus: cash kidd]
woke up to some money and some neck in bed
stuntin’ all in traffic, n*gga, jackie chan
my new b*tch called, do i want her head?
how you fumble me? ho, you special ed
hit his top again, he might be actin’ dead
now that goofy walkin’ out in heaven like he jackin’ it
i got forty thousand in these baggy pants
your b*tch lookin’ single, better grab her hand
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