You a critic, boy, shut the f*ck up
I'm a freak ho, hit her, dawg, and I'm in the cut
She on white, 'cause I energize her way too much
If we got up on a pic, ho, it's time to pick it up, up, up, up
And my neck King Tut, ah-ha-ha
I go up with the goons if I must, ah-ha-ha
And my bitch always catch a nut, ah-ha-ha
Double D's, but she throw the B's up, ah-ha-ha
Ayy, this that big road rage, this ain't one-way street
Time to flip the regime, welcome to the new me
She don't know when I land, but she know when I leave
This that raw and uncut, this that young Hykeem
Bitch, dressed in Vogue, she's a slim one, whoa
Don't front, you was just where I live, whoa, whoa
Hold my cousin elevator in his crib, whoa, whoa
Hold my baby pictures, probably on his fridge, whoa, whoa
It's a lot of sponge around me, lot of sons around me
Real ones are drowning
Ho, ho, ho, ho
Ho, ho, ho
It's a lot of funds around me
Rap sons around me
Get the f*ck from 'round me
Ho, ho, ho, ho
Ho, ho, ho
They playin' right long, they ain't talkin' on the phone
We got Telfar bags, watch your taste level on?
Mine is pgLang, no you didn't hear wrong
Hold that bag, thirteen-hundred, take your peachy ass home
Oh, you a psychic ho? Get your lil' ouija ass on
Say he takin' care of you, he just cut the gas on
Okay, baby, get your money, hit me when you're back on
I'm jaded to the hustle, prove my critic ass wrong
It's a lot of sponge around me, lot of sons around me
Real ones are drowning
Ho, ho, ho, ho
Ho, ho, ho
It's a lot of funds around me
Rap sons around me
Get the f*ck from 'round me
Ho, ho, ho, ho
Ho, ho, ho
Your last one told me that she 'bout to bounce back
I give her backstrokes, ew, now she mad
Oh, you really thought you had one?
You ain't had to sweat one, wanna f*ck, she hot
Seven million for my last one
Listen boys, listen up, listen quick
If your bitch ain't black, don't pose for the pic
Deep down we all know the hoes really hate that shit
F*ck that ordinary bitch, get you an insane bitch
I'm a philosopher, she a brain doctor
Pg headquarters, in the field playing soccer
Heart of the team, number ten on my locker
Ayy, you niggas silly, boy, hot sauce on your, boy
What you look like flying in? Stay your ass in null and void
Told myself these hoes ain't shit, and niggas always makin' noise
Had to flip ten million with 'em, big investments with the (woo)
It's a lot of sponge around me, lot of sons around me
Real ones are drowning
Ho, ho, ho, ho
Ho, ho, ho
It's a lot of funds around me
Rap sons around me
Get the f*ck from 'round me
Ho, ho, ho, ho
Ho, ho, ho
sons & critics Video (MV)
Baby Keem - sons & critics Lyrics
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You a critic, boy, shut the f*ck up
I'm a freak ho, hit her, dawg, and I'm in the cut
She on white, 'cause I energize her way too much
If we got up on a pic, ho, it's time to pick it up, up, up, up
And my neck King Tut, ah-ha-ha
I go up with the goons if I must, ah-ha-ha
And my bitch always catch a nut, ah-ha-ha
Double D's, but she throw the B's up, ah-ha-ha
Ayy, this that big road rage, this ain't one-way street
Time to flip the regime, welcome to the new me
She don't know when I land, but she know when I leave
This that raw and uncut, this that young Hykeem
Bitch, dressed in Vogue, she's a slim one, whoa
Don't front, you was just where I live, whoa, whoa
Hold my cousin elevator in his crib, whoa, whoa
Hold my baby pictures, probably on his fridge, whoa, whoa
It's a lot of sponge around me, lot of sons around me
Real ones are drowning
Ho, ho, ho, ho
Ho, ho, ho
It's a lot of funds around me
Rap sons around me
Get the f*ck from 'round me
Ho, ho, ho, ho
Ho, ho, ho
They playin' right long, they ain't talkin' on the phone
We got Telfar bags, watch your taste level on?
Mine is pgLang, no you didn't hear wrong
Hold that bag, thirteen-hundred, take your peachy ass home
Oh, you a psychic ho? Get your lil' ouija ass on
Say he takin' care of you, he just cut the gas on
Okay, baby, get your money, hit me when you're back on
I'm jaded to the hustle, prove my critic ass wrong
It's a lot of sponge around me, lot of sons around me
Real ones are drowning
Ho, ho, ho, ho
Ho, ho, ho
It's a lot of funds around me
Rap sons around me
Get the f*ck from 'round me
Ho, ho, ho, ho
Ho, ho, ho
Your last one told me that she 'bout to bounce back
I give her backstrokes, ew, now she mad
Oh, you really thought you had one?
You ain't had to sweat one, wanna f*ck, she hot
Seven million for my last one
Listen boys, listen up, listen quick
If your bitch ain't black, don't pose for the pic
Deep down we all know the hoes really hate that shit
F*ck that ordinary bitch, get you an insane bitch
I'm a philosopher, she a brain doctor
Pg headquarters, in the field playing soccer
Heart of the team, number ten on my locker
Ayy, you niggas silly, boy, hot sauce on your, boy
What you look like flying in? Stay your ass in null and void
Told myself these hoes ain't shit, and niggas always makin' noise
Had to flip ten million with 'em, big investments with the (woo)
It's a lot of sponge around me, lot of sons around me
Real ones are drowning
Ho, ho, ho, ho
Ho, ho, ho
It's a lot of funds around me
Rap sons around me
Get the f*ck from 'round me
Ho, ho, ho, ho
Ho, ho, ho
I'm a freak ho, hit her, dawg, and I'm in the cut
She on white, 'cause I energize her way too much
If we got up on a pic, ho, it's time to pick it up, up, up, up
And my neck King Tut, ah-ha-ha
I go up with the goons if I must, ah-ha-ha
And my bitch always catch a nut, ah-ha-ha
Double D's, but she throw the B's up, ah-ha-ha
Ayy, this that big road rage, this ain't one-way street
Time to flip the regime, welcome to the new me
She don't know when I land, but she know when I leave
This that raw and uncut, this that young Hykeem
Bitch, dressed in Vogue, she's a slim one, whoa
Don't front, you was just where I live, whoa, whoa
Hold my cousin elevator in his crib, whoa, whoa
Hold my baby pictures, probably on his fridge, whoa, whoa
It's a lot of sponge around me, lot of sons around me
Real ones are drowning
Ho, ho, ho, ho
Ho, ho, ho
It's a lot of funds around me
Rap sons around me
Get the f*ck from 'round me
Ho, ho, ho, ho
Ho, ho, ho
They playin' right long, they ain't talkin' on the phone
We got Telfar bags, watch your taste level on?
Mine is pgLang, no you didn't hear wrong
Hold that bag, thirteen-hundred, take your peachy ass home
Oh, you a psychic ho? Get your lil' ouija ass on
Say he takin' care of you, he just cut the gas on
Okay, baby, get your money, hit me when you're back on
I'm jaded to the hustle, prove my critic ass wrong
It's a lot of sponge around me, lot of sons around me
Real ones are drowning
Ho, ho, ho, ho
Ho, ho, ho
It's a lot of funds around me
Rap sons around me
Get the f*ck from 'round me
Ho, ho, ho, ho
Ho, ho, ho
Your last one told me that she 'bout to bounce back
I give her backstrokes, ew, now she mad
Oh, you really thought you had one?
You ain't had to sweat one, wanna f*ck, she hot
Seven million for my last one
Listen boys, listen up, listen quick
If your bitch ain't black, don't pose for the pic
Deep down we all know the hoes really hate that shit
F*ck that ordinary bitch, get you an insane bitch
I'm a philosopher, she a brain doctor
Pg headquarters, in the field playing soccer
Heart of the team, number ten on my locker
Ayy, you niggas silly, boy, hot sauce on your, boy
What you look like flying in? Stay your ass in null and void
Told myself these hoes ain't shit, and niggas always makin' noise
Had to flip ten million with 'em, big investments with the (woo)
It's a lot of sponge around me, lot of sons around me
Real ones are drowning
Ho, ho, ho, ho
Ho, ho, ho
It's a lot of funds around me
Rap sons around me
Get the f*ck from 'round me
Ho, ho, ho, ho
Ho, ho, ho
Writer: Hykeem Carter, Jahaan Sweet, Ruchaun Akers Jr.
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.