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On My Shit
by
LightSkinKeisha
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Lyrics
Run it up, get it up, run it up, got it Lil' b*t*h Ba**lineFanaticz Yeah F**k what they say, man, I went out and did it And went out and get it and went out and got it Then made it fit in like a plug in a socket Whipping through traffic and touching and rocking All them blue faces busting out the wallet All them b*t*hes bust it open for papi All my n***as shake it up and then lock it All my n***as whip it up and then rock it I'm running back and forth, up, down the interstate I don't do dinner dates, I need that chemistry I need that energy I sent that b*t*h to look out for my enemy Longest making money, y'all need a remedy 1942 shot, he want a Hennessy See me in drip with a whole new ident**y Seen him one time, he said, "Do you remember me?" He wanna give me that dough like a Kennedy Making money like it's ten of me Drum on that Draco, no symphony Dude in L.A. tryna send for me He tryna put it way up where my kidney be N***a, you kidding me? (N***a, you kidding me?) N***a, you sh*tting me? (N***a, you sh*tting me?) You chilling and shouldn't be I'm tryna run it way up where the ceiling be Diamonds on me, cost a pretty penny N***a shining, and I mean that literally VVS got them strippers naked in my section That sh*t looking glittery, ooh Heavy artillery, ooh You b*t*hes ain't killing me, ooh Presidential like Hillary LightSkin the Keisha, you b*t*hes remember me Right back on my sh*t Then I'm right back on my sh*t Then I'm right back on my sh*t Then I'm right back on my sh*t We the new fidgets of flexing The front on these b*t*hes too subtle, these b*t*hes too humble We break down that 'Wood and that weed gon' get crumbled Run to that money right after the huddle I don't lay up, I don't have time to cuddle I don't do back and forths, ain't no reb***al Walk in Chanel and I grab me a couple I'm tryna load up them racks in my duffel I'm tryna show these b*t*hes how to hustle I'm tryna show them you gotta have muscle I'm tryna show them you gotta get busy LightSkinKeisha baddest b*t*h in the city Talking that sh*t, she get split like a Philly Hop on that d**k and ride out like a wheelie I need that bank account filled up with millis I got a bunch of stars all on my ceilings B*t*h, ooh Right back on my sh*t Yeah, then I'm right back on my sh*t Then I'm right back on my sh*t Yeah, then I'm right back on my sh*t Yeah, yeah Right- right back on my sh*t Then I'm right back on my sh*t Yeah Right- right back on my sh*t
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