Lyrics Icky Vicky Vibes 2 - MarcoMoney

(Cmon)
Aye, uh
I hate a helped some niggas out so they can eat but they compete with me
We all supposed to shine like EST so ima keep my G
I'll still got bitches on they knees they suckin D they tryna taste my genes
Sliding with my brothers in that Range i feel like Baby Keem
I might sing but choppa give your ass some pain and put you on a T
She want double Cs she claim she'll never change so i might play Celine
We just poured a 3 then i caught some Zs why did i drink the lean?

Out in Vegas i look like a Raider when i'm in LV
Them niggas think they great but i'm greater should i flex some cheese?
Smoking trees if you ain't talking paper then you gotta leave
I ain't talkin Swizz but i be killin beats i think i got the keys
And this is not no Ruger this a glocky with the reticle
If a nigga tryna touch my karats turn him to a vegetable
Ion wanna hit make bitches eat the dick like it's a edible
Ion want that blick if it don't got no stick it's unacceptable
I be talkin shit i like when she spit but i hate messy hoes
Ion speak no spanish i might vanish go to Mexico
Bad bitch met her at the Ritz but i ain't crack her though
Eating Ruth Chris hunnit dollar dish this ain't no casserole

Rip Nip every time i sip i double up my cup
Lets get rich every time i spend a thou it feel like a hunnit bucks
A hunnit rounds for niggas talkin down i'm tryna run it up
Man what the fuck why that nigga cuff you know she a slut
I can't say no names but me and gang we was in her guts
Smokin Runtz you can't hit my blunt i'm just being blunt
Doing bitches trife i told em it's for life but only hit em once
That nigga buff but why he talkin tough like ion got my gun?
Like it don't got no drum
(Uh) i can't go for nun
I put 80 in so it don't jam but this bitch hold a hun
You be kissin on that hoe i put my sons right on her tongue
I can't say i'm winning until i give them millions to my mom (Uh)
How the i'm sinning mixing Christian with the Fear of God?
Used to get up in my feelings pop a pill then i feel alive
Now i'm chillin everything i smoke expensive i be getting high
Off-Whites wore em on my flight now i'm feeling fly
I might hit the drank and go record now i'm punching lines
I brought the (Ahh) we ain't finna box you can punch four five
And all these bitches bops they so icky give me vicky vibes
I just get the top i hate snitches i can't 69
I can't call you opp you beefing bout a thot you better go and cry
You a cop all you do is talk and you be telling lies
When i say i brought the chop i ain't talkin bout no cutting knife