Слова песни Moneybagg Yo — Pop My Shit текст
Talk my, I talk my shit
Excuse my French, I talk my shit
Wherever I’m at, I pop my shit, pop my shit, yeah
Yeah, yeah
I think I’m the shit, big as it gets
Wrist cost a brick, I look like a lick
Dior kicks, Chanel on my bitch
Never mind me, I’m just poppin’ my shit
Keep that stick, that’s a part of my ‘fit
Championship rings, can’t ball up my fist
Two hundred on the dash, every car that I get
Never mind me, I’m just poppin’ my shit
I think I’m the shit, big as it gets
Wrist cost a brick, I look like a lick
Dior kicks, Chanel on my bitch
Never mind me, I’m just poppin’ my shit
Keep that stick, that’s a part of my ‘fit
Championship rings, can’t ball up my fist
Two hundred on the dash, every car that I get
Never mind me, I’m just poppin’ my shit
I’m in the ‘Cat with the red on the key
I’m at the bank and an opp, I don’t see
Wanted somethin’ real so she fuckin’ with me
40K smile, so I say cheese
Haters be quiet and they talk when I leave (Hah)
Ain’t no handouts, got nothing from nobody (Nope)
I really spent me some M’s with the jeweler
Look at me, this how you wear a Bugatti
Opened her purse and she brung out them racks (Too many)
Literally, she in her bag
I’m in somethin’ fast, you hear when I snatch (Skrrt)
But you don’t see nothin’ when I pass
I’m fully focused, but full of the ZaZa (What’s that?)
That’s what we call the exotic
House a hotel, garage like a car lot (Everywhere)
No money problems, so I pop it
I think I’m the shit, big as it gets
Wrist cost a brick, I look like a lick
Dior kicks, Chanel on my bitch
Never mind me, I’m just poppin’ my shit
Keep that stick, that’s a part of my ‘fit
Championship rings, can’t ball up my fist
Two hundred on the dash, every car that I get
Never mind me, I’m just poppin’ my shit
I think I’m the shit, big as it gets
Wrist cost a brick, I look like a lick
Dior kicks, Chanel on my bitch
Never mind me, I’m just poppin’ my shit
Keep that stick, that’s a part of my ‘fit
Championship rings, can’t ball up my fist
Two hundred on the dash, every car that I get
Never mind me, I’m just poppin’ my shit
You know I’ma pop it, I’m havin’ my way
They wanna be me so they copy and paste (Paste)
I’m in the latest, ain’t nothin’ out of date (Date)
Fuck a stylist, I got flavor, got taste (Me)
ICU, my right wrist sick (Hold up)
Can’t tell me nothin’, I know I’m lit (No)
Went Nino Brown, way I canceled that bitch
Excuse my French, I talk my shit
Six watches, big time
Seats in the big body recline (Lay back)
New body, she fine
Lil’ bitch ain’t perfect but she mine (For me)
Blue hundreds, pink fifties
I’m lottery pick, the big ticket (Ugh)
Pour red up, I’m Trippie
Slow leak like faucet, I’m too drippy (Slip)
I think I’m the shit, big as it gets
Wrist cost a brick, I look like a lick
Dior kicks, Chanel on my bitch
Never mind me, I’m just poppin’ my shit
Keep that stick, that’s a part of my ‘fit
Championship rings, can’t ball up my fist
Two hundred on the dash, every car that I get
Never mind me, I’m just poppin’ my shit
I think I’m the shit, big as it gets
Wrist cost a brick, I look like a lick
Dior kicks, Chanel on my bitch
Never mind me, I’m just poppin’ my shit
Keep that stick, that’s a part of my ‘fit
Championship rings, can’t ball up my fist
Two hundred on the dash, every car that I get
Never mind me, I’m just poppin’ my shit
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