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BeBe's Kids

de Roc Marciano

Just messin' up somebody pillowcase, ain't she? Ugh
You know what I'm sayin', baby?
Hundred block shit (hey)
Know we on that wax, boy (hey)

Uh, just me and my nigs, spinnin' four deep in a Benz
Got seeds in the biz; luckily for y'all, I don't beat my kids
No need to call CPS, sleepyhead
Bet you still pee in y'all bed, runnin' 'round being bad with your peezy wig
It ain't a wet dream when your team get hit
Glock 19 with the dick; nah, that's not a penis print in my Adidas sweats
Three G's for the DITA specs (woo)
So I can see through the BS
All my diamonds is VVS (bling)
Never sprung for a BBL
Trailer load of hoes, your boy need a CDL
On the DL, see you G-E-L, niggas weak as hell (jelly)
Couldn't even get a decent piece of tail in a female jail (woo)
Then bail in the V12 with no seatbelt (uh)
Squeezin' these sixteen shells, send 'em to 'em like email
Slid in the money-green GL
Keys for sale; fishscale underneath fingernails
Sprinklin' dust on the L, they was thinkin' it's Tinkerbell
Your name on the streets doesn't ring a bell like a Stringer Bell
Mayweather with the Philly shell
Niggas really fell, more F's than a Fendi belt (woo)
Two drums on the blicky, lookin' like Mickey Mouse
Or the shit that knocked Ricky down
Bring the fifty-cal anyhow for when it's sticky out
Enemies thought that they figured me out
Sig blew his memory out
Little Rich span him around, turn the big energy down
Shit gets slippery now, niggas should've bowed and sit down Indian-style (How, wow)

Niggas not really diggin' your style
Niggas is loud
Shit is foul, run down
Click, bow
Marci
Niggas not really diggin' your style
Shit is foul, run down
Click, bow

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