(We on his head, uh)
(Cullen, Cullen)
(We on his head, uh)
(We on his head, uh)
(We on his head, uh)
(We on his, ah)
(We on his, ah)
(We on his, ah)
(We on his, ah)
We on his head with a K
I done fell in love with Kay
Fuck yo' gang, I'ma add a K
I gotta (?)
She don't want me, she want turn away
We just landed in LA, yeah
Only money, make 'em pay up
He took a pay cut
Dummy counts some my racks, he get paper cuts
I wanna sit back, I ain't made enough
I wanna sit back, I ain't made enough
Say it with your chest, say it with ya gut
We got ARs, fuck what ya got
Hop up in the car, slide thru' the cut
My niggas slidin' in broad day
We finna go to LA, and catch that nigga lacking on Broadway
Do this shit up in my way
I can't lie, bitch you ruining my day
Oh, but she wanna come up to my place
I pull up, she give me my grams
And I know it's gon give 'em up, my grind
Smoking Za, you ain't smoking on my strain
Turns out, she ain't riding on my plane
This shit ain't a thing to me, they know I'm keeping that thing with me
Why he hating? He really a fan of me
And I know you went out with your friends, I see
We ain't cool, you told me I'm your friend-Amie
I guess that we onto enemies
We on his head with a K
I done fell in love with Kay
Fuck yo' gang, I'ma add a K
I gotta (?)
She don't want me, she want turn away
We just landed in LA, yeah
Only money, make 'em pay up
He took a pay cut
Dummy counts some my racks, he get paper cuts
I wanna sit back, I ain't made enough
I wanna sit back, I ain't made enough
Say it with your chest, say it with ya gut
We got ARs, fuck what ya got
Hop up in the car, slide thru' the cut