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Fetty Wap – Gotta Blast lyrics
Free that boy Tay-K
Gang with me, we ain't talkin' cash, it's irrelevant
If yo' bitch roll me, let her wear my chain for the hell of it
Sticks with me, he could fuck yo hoe if she celibate
Fetty, we get Fetti it don't matter how you spellin' it
Yeah, pull up to a spot like what is up, nigga
I got shootas' with me in the cut, nigga
He be dead before I hit the blunt, nigga
On the hood, this ain't what he want, nigga
Keep a 50 with me in the trunk, nigga
Put the family on the Cabot funk, nigga
Wouldn't give a fuck if a slug hit ya
All this money I just get a rush nigga
When the money came I fell in love wit her
You know I fell in love wit her
Ay
I know these niggas feel some type of way
But all they do is hop up on the internet and type away
I ain't the type to play, my hittas bring it right away
You hear them tires scrape, them fireworks gon' light away
If Zoovie send a hit
Then the goonies bend the shit
If we in the buildin' its gon' be a movie in this bitch
Don't pay attention to these niggas 'cause they all lame
How I'm livin' next to Fabolous, I call it Paul Cain
This from the muscle, had to hustle like a ball game
All I do is ball mane, so all I do is Balmain
Designer shit, this shorty think I'm kida lit
I said you ain't my kinda chickt, but thank you for the compliment
Mind on my money I've been hungry tryna' find a lick
I could supply your strip, like what you need? I got it in
A bunch of small timers talkin' like they push a lot
I smoke on hella sour, I don't do the kush a lot
Wap set it off, they waitin' for the hood to pop
My pocket full of guap, they call me mister juug a lot
Gang with me, we ain't talkin' cash, it's irrelevant
If yo' bitch roll me, let her wear my chain for the hell of it
Sticks with me, he could fuck yo hoe if she celibate
Fetty, we get Fetti it don't matter how you spellin' it
Yeah, pull up to a spot like what is up, nigga
I got shootas' with me in the cut, nigga
He be dead before I hit the blunt, nigga
On the hood, this ain't what he want, nigga
Keep a 50 with me in the trunk, nigga
Put the family on the Cabot funk, nigga
Wouldn't give a fuck if a slug hit ya
All this money I just get a rush nigga
When the money came I fell in love wit her
You know I fell in love wit her
Ay
I know these niggas feel some type of way
But all they do is hop up on the internet and type away
I ain't the type to play, my hittas bring it right away
You hear them tires scrape, them fireworks gon' light away
If Zoovie send a hit
Then the goonies bend the shit
If we in the buildin' its gon' be a movie in this bitch
Don't pay attention to these niggas 'cause they all lame
How I'm livin' next to Fabolous, I call it Paul Cain
This from the muscle, had to hustle like a ball game
All I do is ball mane, so all I do is Balmain
Designer shit, this shorty think I'm kida lit
I said you ain't my kinda chickt, but thank you for the compliment
Mind on my money I've been hungry tryna' find a lick
I could supply your strip, like what you need? I got it in
A bunch of small timers talkin' like they push a lot
I smoke on hella sour, I don't do the kush a lot
Wap set it off, they waitin' for the hood to pop
My pocket full of guap, they call me mister juug a lot
Lyrics taken from
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