dashh - Left Right Lyrics

These niggas too excited can tell they don't do this often
We ran through a pint
She want more shots this bitch a alcoholic
They aint lit they booth up once they got a paper shortage
We slide in black truck to the club and to the after party
I had to leave bro at the crib he known for snatching cartis
So if you round, you better tuck your buffs
Boy don't test your luck
Every pole.556 and up
She throwing ass pullin' on my Amiris tryna turn me up
Hold on, baby bend it over, then throw it up
Told her I like what I see, you a pretty slut
Hold on, left, right, left, right, huh hold on,
Throw it down, left, right, left, right
Baby, touch your toes
If she hop inside the V with me,
Gotta cut off her lo
Shit I love the life I live
I used to hate when I was broke
Why the f*ck you standin' on the wall?
Send that nigga home
The other side, some real rookies doin' hits, bringin' they phones
That nigga brother died, he ain't gon' slide, that nigga made a song
I had to switch my iCloud, I did a hunnid off this phone
Ain't even say much to your bitch, she was on go, just off my song
I took a break from the gram and jumped right back in that mode
Still spendin', but I'm stackin
Got so many bad bitches in the pad could throw a pageant
Might spend a ten in the mall, cause I love fashion
At first, I wasn't rappin I was card crackin
Conversations with the plug, talkin' in pig latin
Cause on his 3rd 30, he got a pill habit
Bust a key, next day, I want the Canada
Almost made five off of rappin and I ain't got no manager
Know the city get cold, I'm in the jungle with some animals
She shake her ass all night man, this lil' bitch got stamina
She so thick, I could put a cup on her ass and balance it
All these hoes catch the franchise, had to put it on the camera
I crack the pint and poured the six in my canister
Know the game like I know myself I'm an analyst
Niggas too excited, can tell they don't do this often
We ran through two pints
She want more shots this bitch a alcoholic
They aint lit they booth up once they got a paper shortage
We slidin' black trucks to the club and to the after party
Only the guys around so you ain't gotta tuck yo buffs
Dare a nigga test his luck
Every pole five, five, six, and up
Make her bend it over, then she throw it up
Told her I like what I see, bitch you a pretty slut
Hold on, left, right, left, right
Hold on, left, right, left, right
Bitch bend it over, touch y'all toes
Hold on