Lyrics Bass Drums - Absolut-P

Aye
She pop her pussy with bass drums
Bro got a stick, he might lay on ya
I got some drugs, I'mma stay on em
I cop designer for comfort, aye
I don't know you, so I won't budge
I need that money fore' I come

Lil nigga fresh, like it's fucking Easter, aye
Spit a movie, and it's full of fuckin' Easter eggs
Keep, shiftin' up shit this way
Keep, bad bitches, all on bay
Stay with problems in my life, I like it this way
Tryna make money every year, man made holiday
Heat seeker, bro keep the missile on em
At a restaurant, two star michelin
I ain't tryna be roguish, just kidding
Yeah I get a kick out of it, I'm ignorant
When I'm bored, I see hoes
Like I got a job making wood doors
Keep my, composure
High speed chase, yeah, I'm still laughin
Baby daddy on my story, he just nosey
Aye, psychedelics kicking in like Jet Li
Got bad bitches mad when I don't text back
I won't text you bitch, you gotta text me
I'm with big bro making plays, I'll hit you back
Need a bitch with clean pussy, Nivea, laundromat
In the club, no panties, when she tell me, I ain't mad
Prolly ain't at the location I said I'm at
Yeah, I move around like sound nigga, get a map
Gemini nigga, I got ying-yang twins
Bad bitch get the hippie shakes when she don't get her fix
Yeah my plug from the bay, yeah, I'm smokin' on wafers
Nah, I can't commit to it if the choe ain't present

She pop her pussy with bass drums
Bro got a stick, he might lay on ya
I got some drugs, I'mma stay on em
I cop designer for comfort
She pop her pussy with bass drums
Bro got a stick, he might lay on ya
I got some drugs, I'mma stay on em
I got some drugs, I'mma stay on em

Aye, social media ain't gotta know about it
I'mma eat good, you ain't gotta know about it
Psst, lobster, steak, and shrimp
Aye, if I knew your loyalty had a price on it
I would've help you sell it, yeah, I'm a real homie
Wouldn't let you slip, just like banana peels with ya
You the type to plot on your homies baby momma
You is not a real nigga, nah, I can't deal with ya
Aye, I'm a black hippie
Need me a bitch with long stocks, just like Pippie
Nigga your designer all faux, I ain't tryna hound you
Niggas wanna try and roast, but they ain't gotta kitchen
I ain't eating home food, yeah, I'm talkin' Uber Eats
Hope they ain't spitting in my food, he got a mixtape with him
She think I'm cheating, I'm outside for the digits
Yeah I'm doing math while I'm looking at the trees
I'm counting stray kittens
Why play with it, my days mixing, just like liquor
Gotta drink a lot water, yeah, like fat Makkonen
Gotta be on it, can't play with it, can't play victim
Can't play with ya, nah I ain't on 2K, swag on created player
Yeah I'm smoking on bomb, and I'm sippin' Vegas bomb
Got two cougars hittin' on me, tryna take me home

Aye
She pop her pussy with bass drums
Bro got a stick, he might lay on ya
I got some drugs, I'mma stay on em
I cop designer for comfort
She pop her pussy with bass drums
Bro got a stick, he might lay on ya