Текст песни NO HOOK! - dothedash!

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah
(It's all so sick, darling, isn't it?)
(I was in the six, so I had to dothedash!)

I got the drip, Richard Millie
I'm only 16, but I might cop a Bentley
My pants are from Ricky
My bro keep a blickey
I'm gettin' in racks and I get 'em in plenty

I'm drippin' in Fendi
I know y'all some rats just like Mickey
Don't know what I want, I'm too picky
I keep me a baddie like Demi
My neck is frosty like it's Wendy's

Just walked in the party, they sippin' on Henny
Ain't dappin' you up, I ain't friendly
Feel like I'm Yeat gettin' busy
I got my hotline blingin' like I'm Drizzy

I'm in the cave like I'm Kenny
I got the juice like I'm Biggy
She callin' my phone but I'm busy
And I just spun the block, I'm gettin' dizzy
Link her one time now she miss me

But I ain't worried 'bout that
I ain't got time for chit-chat
Drippin' like Luka Sabbat
I'm breakin' the bank
My drip like a sank
I'm at the top of the rank
You know I ride in the tank

I feel like Gucci got ice on my neck
I whip a corvette, my diamonds so wet
That brand new Patek, I had to go flex
My diamond's clear, you can see the baguettes
Just gimme a sec, Mandela effect
We lightin' yo' block up like a cigarette
If you sendin threats, that's Russian Roulette
Doin' two hundred in the 'Rarri, I might reck

Walk inside the bank, they turnin' heads like, yes, it's me again
All they do is talk, I don't care 'bout what is bein' said
My diamonds finna blind, you don't think you finna see again
He talked down on the gang, I don't think that he gon' speak again

I just walked in with a baddie, everyone lookin' like whoa, whoa, whoa
I got the drip from my neck all the way down to my toes, toes, toes
Livin' my life too fast, everyone tellin' me slow, slow, slow
Hop in the demon, I'm speedin', you know that I'm always on go, go, go

Think I'm way too icey (yeah)
Like some iced tea
Pull up to the party, and I'm drippin' in my white tee
My lifestyle too pricey
Can't do it like me
My life is a movie, can somebody call up Spike Lee

I get my bags get my cash I do what I wanna
It's gettin' hot, hot, hot, yeah, I feel like Gunna
I keep racks in my jeans least a hunna, hunna
You better not tell me 'bout no drama 'cause I'll go Osama (bow)