BANDZ 2 MAKE Lyrics by Mike Dimes
(I ain’t finna tell y’all how Ry got away with this shit)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Went 2K on a sweater (Sweater), Kastaway on the leather (Yes)
Probably upgrade on my bitch if she starting to think she special, uh
Coo say, “Stay on schedule, you ‘posed to be heavy metal”
Lil’ shorty gettin’ me sexual, you treatin’ me like an imbecile
Shit, I ain’t got no plans today, but I know I got bands to make
I don’t want advances, I’ma grind until my hands can skate
Since I’ve been on my shit, I’ve been tryna make my mans a plate
When I get a band, I may crank up, do my lil’ dance, ayy
Mr. Don’t-Do-Beatbox, talking shit on the heat block (I’m on the heat block)
I mean the shit I speak ’bout, said my music hit G-spots (It hit your G-spot)
You know I’ma tweak out if she think that her meat out (Eugh)
Could ever make me put a bitch before that fuckin’ ching sound (Before the ching sound)
If you think I believe a ho, would never sing out (Would never sing out; I’m done)
If you think all these niggas ’round is cool with me now (Can’t cool with me now)
If I just tell you what I got hid up my sleeve
It’s two hundred G’s, I’m tryna cop
If it ain’t ’bout the green, what you talking ’bout?
Shit, I ain’t got no plans today, but I know I got bands to make
I don’t want advances, I’ma grind until my hands can skate
Since I’ve been on my shit, I’ve been tryna make my mans a plate
When I get a band, I may crank up, do my lil’ dance, ayy (Ayy, ayy, ayy)
Automatic, big-body, twin turbo, pipes got extensions, huh
Lil’ body bitch, tat me on your coochie, not your titties, yeah
Packed in, dripped out, all of a sudden, the ones played gettin’ tricked out
I never needed no discount
I walk around with my dick out
I’m-I’m too risky, look so good, it piss me off
A hundred when I land, and I just took off
I don’t care what you sayin’, I’m my own damn boss
I really can’t choose if you win or you lost
End of discussion, show me your hand, and I’ll show you who flushin’
I got an ace by the five, if I’m lucky
I really can’t catch a pack ’til it’s punchin’
Down by the dozens or somethin’
These niggas beefin’ over nothin’, probably fiendin’ for cuddy
I guess I see why you be cuttin’, I was just in the country
Now I got Burberry London, and this Marni came straight from Italy
Only Co. I know, Tiffany
Shit, I ain’t got no plans today, but I know I got bands to make
I don’t want advances, I’ma grind until my hands can skate
Since I’ve been on my shit, I’ve been tryna make my mans a plate
When I get a band, I may crank up, do my lil’ dance, ayyL
