I THINK Lyrics by COCHISE & LAZERDIM700
I get mad racks, I been gettin’ stingy
Put that drac back, I done felt my candy
Cash back, man *** couldn’t see me
I swear to god, I hit my *** on TV (I swear to god)
I swear to god, I come in crispy (I swear)
My bullets, they be bigger than a frisbee (that’s facts)
I think I like this ***, (okay) I think I like this *** (okay)
I think I like this ***, (okay) I think I like this *** (okay)
I think I like this ***, (okay) I think I like this *** (okay)
I think I like this ***, (okay) I think I like this ***
I think I like this ***, (I do) I think she like my wrist (my wrist)
Put forgis on the jeep, (we rich) I’m feelin’ mighty rich
***, ***, ***, ***, ***
I might slide my V, you ain’t gotta pick me up
I just spent racks on my fit, *** had me runnin’ it up
I told the opps they R.I.P, we ain’t goin’ back and forth
I’m in the city traffic, New York traffic
I think I like her, but she plastic
Different clothes, designer fashion
Bro got poles, but mine be blastin’
You tip and toe to the racks, you cappin’
[?] show, and now my name [?]
Blicked up, I got the tennis racket
Tryna act throat, but I know they actin’
My whip and drag, it take off the traction
You ain’t put in no work, this *** relaxin’
Fine ***, you do a song for caption
You gotta pay back a loan from back then
You gotta pay back a loan from back then
***, ***
I get mad racks, I been gettin’ stingy
Put that drac back, I done felt my candy
Cash back, man *** couldn’t see me
I swear to god, I hit my *** on TV (I swear to god)
I swear to god, I come in crispy (I swear)
My bullets, they be bigger than a frisbee (that’s facts)
I think I like this ***, (okay) I think I like this *** (okay)
I think I like this ***, (okay) I think I like this *** (okay)
I think I like this ***, (okay) I think I like this *** (okay)
I think I like this ***, (okay) I think I like this ***
I think I like this ***, (I do) I think she like my wrist (my wrist)
Put forgis on the jeep, (we rich) I’m feelin’ mighty rich (facts)
Got so much on my mind, (my mind) I might start sippin’ trips
She said she tryna slide, (slide) I told her send some pics (pics)
I chop the top of the lamb, (the top of the lamb) just like a butcher
Serving that white boy, white boy, white boy, white boy, Aston Kutcher
I’m in this *** with a whole lot of niggas with dreams, and we lookin’ like booker
I’m in this *** with a whole lot of niggas with dreams, and we lookin’ like booker
Wake up get to the cheese, get to the dough, get to the bread
*** he talkin’ bout the team, I don’t give a damn, off with your head
I do him like Bill, I do him like Ellis, he left for dead
I do him like Bill, I do him like Ellis, he left for dead
