Tusi Lyrics by Shoreline Mafia, OHGEESY, Fenix Flexin
Ay, ay, I’m just down from a fall, yeah, she got a pocket
When she was choosing from the jump, I ain’t have to knock it
Foreign bitch with hella booty, she wanna do some tootsie
I flew her in, we made a movie, I was goin’ stupid
Yeah, I like the way she movin’, like the way she movin’
Say you can do it on the dick, I told her baby prove it
She say she cheatin’ on her man, I said we only human
You know I’ma break her back, I ain’t with the spoon
I seen her in the crowd, got her number, sent her what the room is
If she goin’, that me on, fuck her right, I had to swoop in
I’m on a 30-something floor, this one to me, I got two tens
We spot ’em, we ain’t trippin’, air the crowd in that new benz
She got a family at the crib, yeah she out of pocket
She was choosin’ before we met, I ain’t have to knock it
In the club, rockin’ launches, it’s pocket rockets
You know I got some money, don’t be pocket watchin’
I’m leavin’ out the back, it’s paparazzi watchin’
She gon’ do it on a ditch, she pop like a drop to so many
Hoes in the crib, this a safe house
‘Cause I don’t be pussin’ where I live
Doin’ what I does, and I did what I did
Drop a pill in my drink just to watch the bitch fit
Only got one somethin’, but these niggas and my kids
They be cappin’ in the face, lyin’ to a bitch
That’s a BNB
That is not where you niggas live
Bitch, I’m doin’ me
And I do this shit really big
Goddamn, Jesus
I mean, how’s you gon’ hit?
It depend on many bad lil bitches that exist
Courts out by Lil Wayne like a nigga Lil (?)
And I married to the gang So I in love with this bitch
We a poppin’ nigga (?) with this stick
Bitch I said let walk hard over tricks
Bitch you got me rock hard set the dick
We can hit the hard rock or we can hit the wrist
Strapped up, RBGs in the whip, I blow up this bitch
Just let a nigga trip, if I let this bitch rip
Then he ain’t gon’ exist, if you catch him with his hoe
Shoot the nigga in his bitch
If we catch him with his wifey, we gon’ turn into a widow
Ain’t no monkeys in the middle, pick a sider, we gon’ dribble
Nigga play, I bet we lay his ass right up in the spittle
She toot it up and make it wiggle while I’m all in her denim
We put chalet behind that paper like we using a pencil
You hear that, (?), nigga, come get your issue
Get up with you, ain’t dissing on the ground, we blow pistols
You got a pocket rocket, baby, come right dismissal
Tryna blam some, caught him lacking with his homies, that’s an N1
Baby Drake, you on a nigga lap, not no handgun
Fuck this grease, baby Papa Molly’s getting geeked
He thirsty, he blowing up her phone while she sleep
It’s a rap, she a goner, nigga, suck it up
Cause if you see her fuck with us, you know she swallow nuts
Nigga say he finna blow it, I’ma call his bluff
If it’s beef, you know it’s crackin’, we gon’ follow up