cargo Lyrics

Yeah

Q-q-quarexd

Bitch

Shawty finna fuck right here tomorrow

I snatch his bitch, leave that boy in sorrow

Shawty got an ass, throwing back that cargo

I am so fly, bitches call me far-goer

And you'd still flop with the bar lower, talking far lower

Don't fuck with opps, bitch they far over

You make shit songs, just tell me when your bars are over

Yeah, leave your stone unturned

If he fall off, get the leaf blower

Labels get your ass signed, I don't need homework

My bae said that I'm a four leaf clover

Said she happy to have me

And they capping, they all acting

Print out the script, and meanwhile I spit facts

See how they get mad, these bitches can't stand me

Attorney gave a discount, cause I acted clueless

Tell the salesman chill out, I already want a new whip

Aint nobody hop in less we could really use em

Break the rules so much, forgot I wasn't supposed to do this

And I gotta taste for these things

I feel like Santa, breaking and entering

Take what I need from those hating on me

My bitch like a frog (Do I have to explain what that means)

Shawty finna fuck right here tomorrow

I snatch his bitch, leave that boy in sorrow

Shawty got an ass, throwing back that cargo

I am so fly, bitches call me fargoer

And you'd still flop with the bar lower, talking far lower

Don't fuck with opps, bitch they far over

You make shit songs, just tell me when your bars are over

Asking questions, but that's not what I raise my hands for

P.O. hand a cup, now it looking like my Lambo

Said he wanna front, now he finna take the backdoor

You on some bullshit, and that aint what I stand for

I don't stand for your shit, I don't stand, like a stool

And that choppa put metal in your lungs like a juul

Bitch we pull up to the function and we acting afool

Ice on my wrist, but I still think immigrants are cool

Ayy, but it's really fuck the rules though

The rules broke, half of them just there to be cruel though

Don't blame a motherfucker for finding a loophole useful

Fuck the cops, fuck it all, yeah, what it do hoe

Talk shit, no you don't

That's a few bros cracking a few jokes at your funeral

Ask what I'm doing tomorrow, but you know

Shawty finna fuck right here tomorrow

I snatch his bitch, leave that boy in sorrow

Shawty got an ass, throwing back that cargo

I am so fly, bitches call me far-goer

And you'd still flop with the bar lower, talking far lower

Don't fuck with opps, bitch they far over

You make shit songs, just tell me when your bars are over