Lyrics Pm To the Am - halberd

Remember syrup sandwiches and crime allowances
Finesse a nigga with some counterfeits
But now I'm countin' this
Parmesan where my accountant lives
In fact, I'm downin' this
D'USSÉ with my boo bae, tastes like Kool-Aid for the analysts
Girl, I can buy your ass the world with my paystub
Ooh, that pussy good, won't you sit it on my taste bloods?
I get way too petty once you let me do the extras
Pull up on your block, then break it down: we playin' Tetris
A.M. to the P.M., P.M. to the A.M., funk
Piss out your per dm, you just gotta hate 'em, funk
If I quit your BM, I still ride Mercedes, funk
If I quit this season, I still be the greatest, funk
My left stroke just went viral
Right stroke put lil' baby in a spiral
Soprano C, we like to keep it on a high note
Its levels to it, you and I know, bitch, be humble
Sit down
(Hol' up lil' bitch, hol' up lil' bitch) be humble
(Hol' up, bitch) sit down
(Sit down, hol' up, lil' bitch)
Be humble (bitch)
(Hol' up, hol' up, hol' up, hol' up) bitch, sit down
Lil' bitch (hol' up, lil' bitch) be humble
(Hol' up, bitch) sit down
(Hol' up, hol' up, hol' up, hol' up) be humble
(Hol' up, hol' up, hol' up, hol' up, lil' bitch) sit down
(Hol' up lil' bitch) be humble
(Hol' up, bitch) sit down
(Hol' up, sit down, lil' bitch)
(Sit down, lil' bitch, be humble)
(Hol' up, hol' up, hol' up, hol' up, lil' bitch) bitch, sit down
(Hol' up, bitch) be humble
(Hol' up, bitch) sit down