addiction Lyrics

Woah, woah I got somethin' for these niggas (Woah) I got somethin' for these hoes (Woah) Fuck the internet, I know my pole never see a troll (Woah, woah) Beatin' out her back, you would've thought this lil' bitch stole (Woah) Princess cut, white gold (Woah) His diamonds not shinin' (Woah) My whole chain hit harder than yours, you need to check them diamonds (Woah) Neck on froze, every time I walk in the room, I switch the climate (Woah) Lost my mind, I don't know where to start, lookin' to find it (Woah) Dye my dreads, iconic (Woah) She don't talk about shit, she shinin' (Woah, woah) Wake up, knock off her bonnet (Woah) She a freak, want morning sеx (Woah) Money freak, I want more of thе checks (Woah) Money geek, I been sendin' you bands (Woah, woah) This one chain costs his advance (Woah) Take his chain, Armstrong, Lance (Woah) Now I'm jiggin', I don't dance (Woah) Fuck the clothes, tryna own land (Woah) Fuck these hoes, tryna stay focused (Woah) She a flower bomb, yellow lotus (Woah) Alien, I'm Paul, no Logan (Woah) But I stay with twin like Jake (Woah) These niggas keep rappin' 'bout Dracs (Woah) I'm pushin' up with .308s (Woah) Glock .40 in my shirt and my waist (Woah) I fuck with that bitch, she got taste (Woah) She know that I'm up, so she lazy (Woah) She don't know that I stay in danger (Woah) Head cool, but her pussy amazing (Woah) Head cool, but her pussy the one (Woah) Already had to kick 'em out the spot, them bitches wasn't talkin' 'bout nothin' (Woah) I'm makin' her roll up my blunt (Woah) Can't kick it, no, you cannot punt (Woah) No Yves Saint Laurent (Woah) Got paper and rollin' a blunt (Woah) Bend it over, I spit on her cunt (Woah) Would've thought I was lickin' a blunt (Woah) Tom Cruise, I do my own stunts (Woah) YVL, yeah, this how I front (Wake up, F1LTHY) She said she wanna fuck a rockstar, yeah Say-so, these niggas not hard, yeah Tell me more, we came way too far, yeah She like Xans and coke, girl, tell me, where you get this addiction? Tell me, what's the problem? Is it somethin' I'm missin'? I swear I'm so done with these same bitches She talk behind her friend back, them be the mean bitches And she won't talk to ya if you ain't got no mean wrist You gotta have a mil' and she can't even spot a real Richard Rolex Presidential, iced out, this bitch on blizzard Now I cut you off before I ever compensate with you Chrome Heart, Chuck Taylors, I don't wanna converse with you 10K for the Rick Owen blazer and we bomb shit like Al-Qaeda Can't see me on your radar, give a fuck, I'll never date her This shit comin' in, add it up, where your calculator? GTLE Benz, stick on me, yeah, that's how I spin Guard up, I can't let you love, I can't let you in I can't let a bitch let me down, no, not again Fuck, say my life a movie scene, tell me, are you in? I'm the one who put that CDG on your cardigan I'm the one who put them ra-ra-racks in your purse I'm in this bitch with Ben, told me every time he gon' tax for the work I'm in this bitch with Opm Babi, told me I was gon' go up first I ain't dissin' at ya, I got Actual Hate on my shirt I'm in this bitch with Moon, he a producer, engineer, and DJ He wanna be the groom, his bride got Ken Carson on replay I'm tryna end your rule, I run this shit up, yeah, like relay 424, leather jeans look like denim, racks stuffed in 'em Saw that car in his video, woah, I know it's rental And I ain't even mean to hit your ho, woah, it's accidental I can call her back whenever I want, woah, this shit mental I made so many M's poppin' my shit on instrumentals I made so many M's, my mom and sister straight, yeah, forever I told you if fuckin' with hoes was a sport, I'd have a gold medal And I told you before, these hoes—