Lyrics Wouldn't Judge - Alex PGSV

Brr
Brr
Yeah, Yeah, Yeah!
You can′t say Alex without saying P
I don't fuck with vowels like PGSV
I′m off the molly like MDMA
I get the sloppy like every day
Analog brass, analog synths
Analog that, analog this
Get me some cash, up in the Ritz
Fuck up the club, catalogue bitch!
Effects and I wanna grow dreads now
How do you fix someone who's a let down?
Don't make excuses, I′m in the Benz now
I′m just tryna make it to LA
The sex is great (Yeah)
I elevate my temperament when I'm often baked
And I′m off the shake
And I'm half awake
And I crashed the Wraith
I′m in the back whippin' a kilo
She throwin′ it back, I'm shootin' some B-roll
I look at her cat, she look at my ego
We race on the track (We race on the track)
She got me up, put on a leash
Tying her up, show me your teeth (Grr)
Sparking it up, smoking some weed
Air it all out, she couldn′t breathe
I′m in the fountain lookin' for gold now
Look at me bounce, I don′t mean to fold now
I am the chosen, my ego is frozen
You're always alone but I′m covered in gold
Paint with the brush
Air it out during lunch
Eat her out with a crunch
Even god wouldn't judge
Even god wouldn′t judge
Even god wouldn't judge
Even god wouldn't judge
Even god wouldn′t judge
Even ma wouldn′t judge
Even pa wouldn't judge
Even I wouldn′t judge
Even god wouldn't judge
Ridin′ the wave like DaBaby
We come from Charlotte, we crazy
All of our nights end up hazy
Cross through the back road and dodging the cops so they never contain me
They gotta tase me
Federal dodge while they chase me
Imma link up with some crazies
Im talkin' Kanye and Jay Z
I′m sounding crazy, now pay me
I'm too creative, you're lazy
Nah this kid I know′s lazy as can be, Oof
Way too high it′s that falsetto
Got the rich kids out the ghetto
Hoodie Boys, hip hop, allegretto
Hoodie Boys whip out that stiletto
C-A-S-S-I-E, I don't give a fuck
That′s some old ass shit I swept under the rug
Texted everyday, bitch I just want a hug
She came to the crib but I just wanna fuck
Baked, homie hush
Turn your brain into mush
Alex French, bad as fuck
Know for sure that I could pull it, uh
Paint with the brush
Air it out during lunch
Eat her out with a crunch
Even god wouldn't judge
Even god wouldn′t judge
Even god wouldn't judge
Even god wouldn′t judge
Even god wouldn't judge
Even ma wouldn't judge
Even pa wouldn′t judge
Even I wouldn′t judge
Even god wouldn't
Yuh, and I′mma go fuck with the brodies
They sayin' they got all the hoesies
They foldin′ it up and unfold me, show me