red key ft. Quise Mac Lyrics

All my hoes get along

2 door coupe when I ride alone

Wockhardt lines better hit my phone

Ring ring ring put the bling bling on, yea yea

Slide in the back

Both tires spin hellcat in the back

5% tint always riding relax

223 got to ride with a gat, yea yea

Chrome heart me my life is dim

Remind me I get lost with the wind

Don't cross me I don't roll like them

Hold my lean I won't ask you again

Member them days we starving again

Robbing and running through cars again

Swiping and running through cards again

Nigga we breaking the laws again and again and again and again

Till all my niggas run up a million

Cash out on 600 Benz

Or we gone finesse you

My bitch from New York and she got 600 friends

Ain't none of them free

Set up some niggas call it family & friends

It's never gone end turn out the parking lot with family and friends

We all some speed demons

Riding round with her and her friends

I got that fye and it's tucked in my pants

Coming FR0M 0 ain't goin again

Run up the racks put momma on land

new G5 when I fly over land

Never gone back hope u get what I'm sayin

Chrome heart me my life is dim

Remind me I get lost with the wind

Don't cross me I don't roll like them

Hold my lean I won't ask you again

Member them days we starving again

Robbing and running through cars again

Swiping and running through cards again

Nigga we breaking the laws again and again and again and again

Smoke good gas shit exotic (shit exotic)

Wherever I'm at I'm a trendsetter

I got hoes in my bed like Hugh Hufner (yea)

I don't give a fuck money too long (too long)

VVS neck you got rhinestones

On the other side motherfucker switched the time zone

Know a couple niggas do it all for a M

This ain't Christian Louboutin, this Celine

Baby bottle pop and it's filled with the lean

Beat the pussy up and it came with the cream

Big Draco got long range (long range)

All of my niggas we stick together getting money we all on the same thing (same thing)

All of my niggas go crazy we strapped like the navy this shit like a gun range (gun range)

You don't want problems you ain't bout it (ain't bout it)

Keep that shit real too solid (too solid)

Stay on my Ps and Qs unbalanced

You don't want to play with the kid it get tragic

Niggas tryna copy the style it ain't normal

We thumbing through checks and getting it back

I want the head with no strings attached

I took your bitch you ain't getting her back yea