Phone Lyrics

Pick up the phone, baby, give me a call

My life been runnin' all damn far

He said he got it all down low

With a million, that's what I'm a-chasin

Fill up my dollars with water, they clear the floor

Now I'm feelin' like goddamn Jay-Z

Playin', we got him explorin' this dick out the door

This shit don't look like major

Y'all ain't shit, and I came with a dot

And the money that come is quick, and you grind

You got down, get you some thots

You don't fuck about this shit, but I put in the time

I swear that I want me some guap

If it ain't about the money, I can't even whine

I'm passin' my thots, like, nigga, the fuck is it bout

Ain't bout that shit, nigga, nigga, it's potential

I got a six, and it fit with some men, right

It sit with subscription, I get it, bitch

I ain't goddamn slap a nigga for audition

And I fuck a bitch before I kiss her

Ain't goddamn means, I'm livin' like Jesus

Goddamn things, I feel like Jesus

Without you small, bitch, I'm a piece

And with them balls, bitch, all you keep

Goddamn platinum, he drivin' them dead

And fuck with these cigs, get the fuck outta this

I don't do money, I'm chasin' the bread

I'm chasin' the bread, and I walk through the mist

Goddamn, goddamn dizzy as shit

Goddamn, goddamn dizzy as shit, man, sit down, foggy

Where the money is on my fuckin' head

That shit be a hog, nigga, you wanna talk to that shit

Be tall, nigga, you wanna talk to that shit

Be taller than me, and I'm taller than you

Man, this shit like Shaq

Ain't no shit but a hundred-down racks

Man, this shit make it back, nigga, D-Lite wet

Nigga, goddamn wet, nigga, feel like Shaq

Man, I'm super, smokin' all goddamn gas

And makin' these songs off all of them beef on computers

Ain't about goddamn cash, bitch, just leave me alone

I swear this shit cuter, I wanna get it down bad

Take it down, try to be gone, I'm somewhere bemuda

Smokin' all goddamn from a Buda

Yeah, smokin' all goddamn from a Buda

Goddamn geeky than Buda

Man, this shit like Shaq

Ain't no shit but a hundred-down racks

Man, this shit make it back, nigga, D-Lite wet

Man, I'm super, smokin' all goddamn gas

And makin' these songs off all of them beef on computers

Ain't about goddamn cash, bitch, just leave me alone

I swear this shit cuter, I wanna get it down bad

Take it down, try to be gone, I'm somewhere bemuda

Smokin' all goddamn from a Buda

Man, I'm super, smokin' all goddamn racks

Man, I'm cool, man, I'm super

Man, I'm cool, man, I'm super

Man, I'm cool, man, I'm super

Man, I'm cool, man, I'm super

Man, I'm super

Mind, I'm super

Mind, I'm super

Mind, I'm super