Band-Aids Lyrics

Ab, I'm sorry I didn't get to do the shit we planned

Bruh, I'm sorry I didn't get to do the shit we planned, nah

Ain't talkin' Lipton, I'ma knock you out your team

I'm not LeBron, I can never leave my heat

Say what you want, I'ma still be me

She lick my testicles, yeah, she a freak

I ain't no stylist, pussy, I'm fashionate

I kill a pussy bout you, I'm so passionate

I can't even count how many racks I spent

If you ain't heard, I don't want you, bitch, I'm passin' it

Pussy-ass hoe, whole time you see through

Through you, I'm tryna see the shit that I was goin' through

Let's restart, what's your name? I wanna get to know you

Fuck all this shit, I'ma do whatever just to fuckin' hold you

Whole time, all this shit was a lie

When you left, didn't catch me by surprise

Cause every time you kept, I saw through your lies

I was fuckin' with a rat in disguise

Ayy, trappin' not my hustle, just some shit that I got into

Tend to get in my feelings when I'm ventin' what I been through

It's fuck you, but I love you, man, I miss you

You left me all alone, cryin' with no tissue

I was tryna better you, but I can't fix you

Oh, you are somebody, man, I done hit some licks too

Oh, you shot that man, I done did some hits too

Always speakin' facts, I'ma do it on this too

I done lost a lot of shit, never lose my hope

I can never put my trust in a man or a hoe

He tellin' you it's love, but that ain't your brodie

Yb Ag Mizzy, yeah, we was standin' for deep

They say God move, mountains shit, I guess I'm hikin

Put on my AP, I feel like a viking

She tellin' me she love me, yeah, ho, you triflin

You ain't in my league

I wouldn't bite you, even if I was Mike Tyson

Hotboii he on fire, but I'm the hottest boy around

Speak on my name, I spin the whole block around

Talk on my name, empty out that hundred round

Ain't talkin' bout boxin' or the UK,

But let's go pound for pound

Fresh teeth, bankroll on me, I got tight swag

She a skinny bitch, yeah, she got my type of ass

Pradas and Amiris, yeah, that's my type of swag

See, I'm goin' through pain, but I'm still the type to laugh

I ain't rockin' fitteds, I ain't never been the type to cap

I'm a rapper, not a trapper, don't be fooled, I can still smack

My brothers in that county eatin good, gettin' fat

And you goin' fed just to get your bitch's stomach flat

Life is a gamble, they said, bro, diet's shootin' craps

Only way we make it out, we hustle, shoot ball or we rap

While you actin' independent, bitch, I put you on the map

My brother homie got dildos when we out, we totin' real straps

Ain't talkin' Lipton, I'ma knock you out your team

I'm not LeBron, I can never leave my heat

Say what you want, I'ma still be me

She lick my testicles, yeah, she a freak

I ain't no stylist, pussy, I'm fashionate

I kill a pussy bout you, I'm so passionate

I can't even count how many racks I spent

If you ain't heard, I don't want you, bitch, I'm passin' it