RX7 Lyrics

Yo

Who dis

Ayo it's Senti bitch!

Man vybes in this hoe

Yo

Yo

I keep my racks in muhfucking jeans pocket

And my glock in my jacket (I do)

I want more money I feel like a fiend

But I can't be muhfucking slacking (Nah I can't)

She call me wayfair I got what she need

So we finna meet on a mattress

Fucking all night till the Sun starta peak

Now I gotta call her A cab

Man as I wake when the stars go to sleep

I'm thinking bout getting a bag

You can never relate so relax

RX7 is muhfucking fast (ZOOM)

And she video shit when I'm clapping her cheeks

She love when I hit from the back

Make her feel like she boutta collapse

She a Queen I ain't talking bout drag

In the lead nah I'm never in last

Took a shroom now I'm stuck in a trance

I can't fuck with these niggas cause they switching up on they bros

Like they muhfucking trans

Man this beat got me stuck in the past

Needa eat with da muhfuckin' gang

On my feet is some shit that could cover yo crib

It's a whole lotta muhfucking bands (Cha ching)

On yo block it's a Whole Lotta Red

When they talk bout yo shit it's like Meh (He aight)

I just bought a New Tank you gon Jump Out The House

Got you needing some blood like a vamp

And I got me a coupla shows out in Missouri

I need some bitches in Kansas

Yea the opp wanted smoke put him outta his misery

I spray his face like a canvas

Tell em get sturdy with it

Five niggas outside

Got four bodies

The choppa I got me a Birdie with it

Nut on her mouthside

Cause she know how to blow and the putting the work up in it

Boy I got mob ties you gon die

Got a K and I keep me a burner with it

You know when I slide imma keep me a Big Mac

It ain't no burger nigga

Angels on my side

I do rap and my trapping is part time

She saw me on da gram now she wan' ride

Man this spliff got me muhfucking clothes-lined

I got no time

For these fuckas that want me to slow down

Man just give me a year cause I feel that shit coming like Abel

It's muhfucking showtime (I feel it coming baby)

Boy I kill in the sun or the cold times

And my jacket is fur I don't know the price

Caught that boy on the corner he rolling dice

I dice him up and it ain't with a chef knife

And I'm breaking these records like Steph

Heights on a different level its yo bedtime

And I'm bringing the pressure I press yikes

Like the trigger of my fucking tec 9

And I'm knocking em out boy I'm like Mike

Making bags like I'm Tyson on fight night

30 shells out the piece and they hot like boiling water

And I'm holding the stock tight

Big ass V on my back man that shit slight

Turn her on fast like a muhfucking flashlight

In LA gotta keep me a big pipe

Cause they plotting and that do not sit right

Nah

It's Senti

You fuck it up too much bro

You fuck it up way too much

Way too much