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G Herbo – Like This Lyrics

Like This By G Herbo

Tash Davis on the beat, yeah
DJ Victoriouz with me in the buildin’!
Uh

A hunnid million, what I’m tryna get
Anything to get this paper, bitch I’m tryin’ it, uh
Ain’t nobody gon’ play with me, nigga reach, I’m firin’ it (Bah)
Know your enemy, go broke lil’ nigga, hmm, hmm
I’m dyin’ with (Lil Uzi, let’s go)

What? Yeah
You ain’t got guap like this
You ain’t got cash like this (Yeah)
You ain’t got guap like this
Suck my dick bitch that shit lit (Yeah)
You ain’t got guap like this
You ain’t got cash like this (Yeah)
You ain’t got guap like this (Yeah)
You ain’t got cash like this (Yeah)

Smokin’ this out, it come ashy
I die if I don’t keep bitch on my hip
Hopefully I don’t shoot this bitch off the rip
Ain’t like you rappers with all that lip (Shit)
Canary my diamond, they wet just like lemon (What?)
Ocean my neck and this shit like Pacific (Yeah)
I like my bitches with fat ass and titties (Yeah)
No no no Lil Uzi, not too specific (Let’s go)
Ain’t like you boppers, you real copy-coppers
You niggas be actors and that is facts
[?] the racks, sittin’ back in the backseat
That shoot like a rapture, a rapper attack me
DM that hoe, but she still in my mentions
Bitches be talkin’, these hoe they be snitchin’
Niggas be talkin’, these niggas be snitchin’
Got a Glock on my waist and I had to get clippin’

A hunnid million, what I’m tryna get
Anything to get this paper, bitch I’m tryin’ it, uh
Ain’t nobody gon’ play with me, nigga reach, I’m firin’ it (Bah)
Know your enemy, go broke lil’ nigga, hmm, hmm
I’m dyin’ with

(Let’s go, yeah)
You ain’t got guap like this
You ain’t got cash like this (Yeah)
You ain’t got guap like this (Yeah)
You ain’t got cash like this (Yeah)
You ain’t got guap like this (Let’s go)
You ain’t got cash like this (Yeah)
You ain’t got guap like this (Yeah)
You ain’t got cash like this (Yeah)

Canary my diamond, they wet just like lemon
Ocean my neck and this shit like Pacific
I like my bitches with fat ass and titties
Noodle Lil Uzi, not too specific
DM that hoe, but she still in my mentions
Bitches be talkin’, these hoe they be snitchin’
Niggas be talkin’, these niggas be snitchin’
Got a Glock on my waist and I had to get clippin’

I went to every jeweler in this shit
Told all of ’em, better not tax me
And I got two [?] in LA right now
‘Cause that’s where the packs be
You don’t know [?] you don’t know us
Empty the clip off a hip, pour a four up
On the bullshit, on the block like Noah
Give me the beef, [?], bitch
Certified nigga, get sure when I’m shootin’
I pop out with your bitch, I had to recruit it
Okay she know I fucked with all her friends
But she don’t say nothin’, she scared to lose me
I fuck them lil’ bitches right to my music
Pull out my dick, bitches start flutin’ woah
She say she don’t fuck with niggas, uh (What?)
So she still shopping at Gucci (Let’s go)
[?], ayy, uh
Built my wave like Max B
I’m in New York, free Max B
I be in a New York like a taxi
Ridin’ the Lambo truck from the [?]
Cassie in the backseat
Your bitch she attracted to money
Yeah that’s why she fuckin’ (Yeah)
My niggas attracted to shootin’
That’s why they keep bussin’ (Woah)
I’m with the gang for life
You know that I’m stuck in it (Yeah)
You know they gon’ up that price
You know they ain’t touchin’ shit
Niggas gettin’ richer but smoke we ain’t duckin’ it
I’m in Chiraq when I ride with a hunnid clip
Richard Mille plain cost a hunnid clip
Pushin’ the Rolls but the [?] my brother clip
[?] know he hear me, I’m comin’ quick
Fuck all this rappin’, we ain’t with that sucka shit
Hunnid clip, pull out the window and deal with you
We back in friends [?]

(Let’s go, yeah)
You ain’t got guap like this
You ain’t got cash like this (Yeah)
You ain’t got guap like this (Yeah)
You ain’t got cash like this (Yeah)
You ain’t got guap like this (Let’s go)
You ain’t got cash like this (Yeah)
You ain’t got guap like this (Yeah)
You ain’t got cash like this (Yeah)

Bitch I’m havin’ shit
Out here whippin’ my wrist
Real killers ridin’ with straps, can’t respond to rap, I don’t trip on a diss
[?] the physical [?]
Chill out, hop off my dick
Yeah it’s me and Vert, skrr
Big forty and burst, you get murked, pussy
Brand new Richard Mille, yeah
Apple stack through this, yeah
Brand new Lambo, runnin’ through red lights, like I’m the track with that bitch
Brand new red ‘Rari, uh, ain’t no traction in it, yeah