Slump6s Lincoln Lyrics
Yeah
Yeah
Yeah
Yeah…
Yeah (BenjiCold, why you icy?)
Trackhawk, that bitch really speedin’ (Yeah)
Abraham, me and her linkin’ (Yeah)
I’m on the drum, man, I’m geekin’ (Yeah)
We finna leave that boy leakin’ (Yeah)
Ca-came to the crib for the weekend (Yeah)
Bitch, shut it up, why you speakin’? (Yeah)
Bad ho, yeah, she Puerto Rican
Uppin’ his bro then I tell him we leavin’
I heard these n***** been stealin’ my sound
I got Margiela, I’m knockin’ ’em down
She is a ho, man, that girl been around
You got no money, don’t like how that sound
All of my brothers, they movin’ a pound
Your ho, she weighin’ like five-hundred pounds
‘K in my hand hold like five-hundred rounds
Once you was lost and you’ve never been found
Number nine jeans with the Ricky, yeah
Bougie-ass ho, man, she picky, yeah
Pussy-ass boy, you a kitty, yeah
Wock finna fuck up my kidney, yeah
Lean finna fuck up my liver
We cut that boy then leave him in a river, yeah
You talkin’ down, I’m fucking on your sister
I came up on my own, I ain’t need no assistance
N**** said that he put me on, it don’t make no sense
What the hell is you talkin’ ’bout, ya bitch?
She finna come to the crib and she eatin’ me up, man
I just got some top from ya bitch
I cannot beef with a n**** that’s not in my bracket
I’ve been countin’ money, ya dig?
That ho told me that I’m toxic
I don’t like the talkin’, so lil’ ho, it is what it is
I’m in her shell like a taco
Got paparazzi like wherever I go
They like, “You been goin’ up,” n****, I know
Black and white diamonds, they got vitiligo
She told me that I should pay for her lashes
We caught that boy, now we smokin’ his ashes
Been growin’ up, I was never a bad kid
Run up the racks, yeah, I run up the backends
Shoutout Santana, this chop’ finna blast him
Came in a P and I ain’t even ask him
My n***** come in that shit like elastic
Put him in the void, I’ma fuck ’round and pack him
Fuck with my shit, might as well run it back then
I’m pullin’ up and I’m breakin’ her back in
Ask for my lo, man, I’m like, “Who is askin’?”
In Hollywood and I ain’t even actin’, oh
I’m in her ear like an AirPod
Leave his top red like he put in some hair dye
That n**** hatin’, he still finna hear ’bout
Bring up a ho that I don’t even care ’bout
We put the hit on the screen like an AirDrop
Y’all n***** broke but my n*****, yeah, they’re not
I shoot the fire, you touch it, you’re damn hot
I’m cookin’ up and I’m not using a pot
Trackhawk, that bitch really speedin’ (Yeah)
Abraham, me and her linkin’ (Yeah)
I’m on the drum, man, I’m geekin’ (Yeah)
We finna leave that boy leakin’ (Yeah)
Ca-came to the crib for the weekend (Yeah)
Bitch, shut it up, why you speakin’? (Yeah)
Bad ho, yeah, she Puerto Rican
Uppin’ his bro then I tell him we leavin’ (Yeah)