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l.o.a.t - veeze lyrics

[verse]
went to the club to get some food, blew like ten bands (like ten)
it ain’t that hard to choose a side, i ain’t y’all n*ggas friends (gang, gang)
i quit drugs like every day, tomorrow, i’ma try again
i showed her the racks, but that was just bait, look at how i’m reelin’ her in (i keep that)
get on a headstand for money, dance, open your legs (pop that sh*t)
last eighty bands, kapital pants, i had to wiggle it in
servin’ these bags, who is your mans, you know i’m duckin’ the task
spin his block, open the van door, he sh*ttin’ his pants
i’m ’bout to throw a temper tantrum, you know i’m spoiled as h*ll
i’m ’bout to go no baby bottle, i’ma just pour it right in
i’m tryna make her cut me off, told hеr i’m broke as h*ll
i like thе b*tches that cater to me, sh*t, like kelly, mich*lle
sippin’ codeine, bl**dy steaks, we mobbin’ now
and my prices lower than all y’all, i’m comp with walmart
just in case n*gga wanna step like police do, they layin’ the law down
cut my lights off, whip my chain out, like iron man in the house
soon as i found out money never sleep, i’m takin’ my bed out the house
i got two thick b*tches wrestling me, it’s wwf in the house
i had to tell that lil b*tch, “suck it, suck it”, i went dx on a hoe
you can go shop inside my closet, n*gga, it’s better than neiman’s store, n*gga
once you go get you a bankroll, it’s better than f*ckin’ a hoe, yeah
buddy the lamest of all time, i’m callin’ that n*gga the l.o.a.t
you better stop doin’ that pocket watchin’, keep a good eye on your hoe
i’m rockin’ some runway clothes in the trenches, look like i don’t even belong
this sh*t ain’t gon’ be in the store, lil n*gga, you cheap and broke
your b*tch a lil freak and her throat, it’s platinum, a million sold
my stash keep havin’ these growth spurts, it’s startin’ to make me feel old
my heart may never get warm again, it dropped to zero below
i’m f*ckin’ that b*tch from the back in the shower, look like she droppin’ the soap
i pour up the drank with the floor seats and scream out a play to the coach
these n*ggas ain’t know i’m a boss for real, they see me, stop playin’ they song
we walk in the club with a gun store, your hip got patted on, n*gga
the b*tch below my standards, she gotta give lil twin some head
course she f*cked my gang, n*gga, we all can pay the rent
i just got back from sp*ce, girl, stop askin’ me where i been
lil brodie came through with a broomstick, that n*gga the wicked witch
you know i’m the one you style from, i’m really the favorite twin
i gave her a hoodie, it’s one of one, i’m lettin’ you know that i hit
i’m drivin’ a car, it’s a million bucks, now twelve been on me for ten
this b*tch on the ‘gram with her boyfriend, but mad that i’m f*ckin’ her friend, n*gga
better go get you a bankroll, better than f*ckin’ a hoe
these n*ggas lamest of all time, makin’ them n*ggas the l.o.a.t
you better stop doin’ that pocket watchin’, keep a good eye on your hoe
this b*tch on the ‘gram with her boyfriend, but mad that i’m f*ckin’ her friend
[outro]
can i live?

- veeze lyrics

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