400 Degrees (Freestyle)

Yeah, been broke but I ain't never been cheap
And when I ever touch the bag it's never loud but discreet
I need the right amount of cheese before I leak out a seed
'Cause I'ma spoil all my kids and let 'em ride 'til they stink
Daughter in all pink, son with them gold links
Super mommy sweets, the kids in the backseat
Give 'em baby bottle drinks while I'm running a business meeting
If I ain't a Icy girl then what do you call that?
The hustle is all that, the body is all that
Slim thick chick with skin that got no tats
If I'm in the 3-0-5, get blessed with that gold tan
If I'm in the 3-1-0, I'm finessing a game plan
I'on see a hater, they just jealousy fans
They be wishing they was me
In they fantasy land, girl who is you fooling
All that hate just love, used to hate me all the time
And say wassup in clubs then you felt a lil threatened
Then you switched up 'cause I'm that chick
If you ain't on yo shit you get mad about yo life
And that's the shit that make you sick
See me and my niggas, we trained to go
I'on mess with dumb broads and these fake famous hoes
Bitches get a lump sum and forget where they come from
If these haters had a flavor, it's tasting like dumdums
Niggas with tart cum, sewers and fresh plum
Niggas mad at me, be mad at your income
Shit, 400 degrees but I'm the icy wifey
So I'm bringing the breeze if you feeling the freeze
I ain't here to just tease, the fingers looking for me
'Cause I got what they need