Why

(альбом: Twos - 2018)

Spent a bag on my wrist, yeah
Spent a bag on my bitch, yeah
Spent another bag on a whip, yeah
Bank account still look lit
Looking like I just hit a lick, yeah
Still ride 'round with a stick
Fakeness make me sick, yeah
We get lit, get lit
We get lit, get lit, yeah
We get lit, make hits, yeah
I don't ever tweak or twitch, yeah
Bad bitches give me lip
I got a shooter that keeps my 6, yeah
Shooter got aim, don't miss, yeah
I'll never worry 'bout shit, yeah
All I care about is getting rich

'Cause I got a bag to claim
And I got M's to make
I'm laying low, working hard
Why you so mad at me?
Why you so mad at me?
Why you so mad at me?
I'm laying' low, working hard
Why you so mad at me?
Why you so?

You can stay mad at me, I ain't even minding you
Think I might take your girl without even trying to
She telling you it's nothing 'cause she can't confide in you
I'm giving her everything that she couldn't find in you
And maybe it's better that way, she knows its better my way
I ain't got time to just chill, everytime pussy get killed
Bringing her pleasure, my pleasure
I go harder under pressure
Treat her like work and I stretch her
She only cum if I let her
Now she know what dealing with the man feel like
Came around and showed her what she can feel like
And she love it when I let her count my racks
I told you, I ain't never going back

So I got a bag to claim
And I got M's to make
I'm laying low, working hard
Why you so mad at me?
Why you so mad at me?
Why you so mad at me?
I'm laying low, working hard
Why you so mad at me?
Why you so?

Why you so?
Why you so?
Why you so?
So mad