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lirik lagu hol’ on – erica banks

[intro: erica banks]
hold on, ho, ayy, chill out, uh
b*tch, get back, ho
ayy
let me talk my sh*t (ayy, dodo, ow)

[verse 1: erica banks]
b*tch, ain’t no flakin’, i’m ’bout it, i’m with it
you walk in the room, get to duckin’ and flinchin’
he f*ck from the back, ain’t no rubbin’ and kissin’
ho want a problem, it’s up and it’s tension, uh
ten n*ggas bustin’, he clap ten
he trap out the back with the trap twin
pull up, i’m countin’ the backend
tell that lil’ ho to come tap in
you tap on the ‘net, but i tap on the doorbell
i’m all at your door like, “what’s up? is you bluffin’?”
he thinkin’ we datin’ and sh*t, now she hatin’ and sh*t
but he flexin’, he know we just f*ckin’
so ho, mind your business, your partners be trippin’
pull up to your town and we want all the smoke
roll up a bleezy, i heard that ho easy
he sell out the sack, we want all of the dope, uh

[chorus: erica banks]
hold on, ho, ayy, chill out, uh
b*tch too fine, no tip out, ayy
flex one time, now the ho start cryin’
slip once, all the drip gon’ spill out, uh
sit down, kick back, and make fun of you b*tches (sit down)
f*ck i look like? i ain’t one of you b*tches
i call for a zip, get a ton of them b*tches
what is you runnin’? i’m runnin’ them b*tches

[verse 2: kentheman]
gutter lil’ b*tch and he love it
i’ll ride on that d*ck, i don’t cuddle or nothin’
these b*tches be scary, but act like they not
when i run through the spot, they be hidin’ and duckin’
these hoes really broke, they ain’t gettin’ no money
they just gettin’ f*cked for a smoke and a tab
how you a boss when you stay on your ass?
you ain’t a bad b*tch, you just goin’ out bad
ho, run me my money or n*ggas is huntin’
they’ll draw on your mama, your kids, and your brothers
i’d rather be dead than be labeled a sucker
they won’t catch me slip, i be strapped like a buckle
b*tch, i’m the one, you can get slapped
i’m quick to lay me a b*tch on her back
i’m stuck in my ways, i make n*ggas rebel
i get some mouth from him, then it’s a wrap

[chorus: erica banks]
hold on, ho, ayy, chill out, uh
b*tch too fine, no tip out, ayy
flex one time, now the ho start cryin’
slip once, all the drip gon’ spill out, uh
sit down, kick back, and make fun of you b*tches
f*ck i look like? i ain’t one of you b*tches
i call for a zip, get a ton of them b*tches
what is you runnin’? i’m runnin’ them b*tches

- erica banks

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