Autumn! - Loving My Fashion! lyrics
Autumn! [Benjamin Clarence Phillips Jr.] Lafayette, Louisiana/Houston, Texas, U.S 🇺🇸
[Autumn! - Loving My Fashion! lyrics]
Yeah, she loving my fashion
With Sosa, that's my crip
Nigga gon' get shit cracking
Toolie on my hip, I'ma get to blasting
Fucking on yo bitch then you know I'm passing
Smoking good gas, yeah, my blunts is massive
With my dawg, with my mastiff
New 40, it'll turn you to ashes
You run up on me, get your ass kicked
This 223 make niggas backflip
I ain't got shit for you so stop asking
Sipping on this Wock' till my heart stop
Kick this ho out the ride
If she ain't giving top
Nigga really want smoke
He can really get popped
Yeah, I heard he a jugg
Finna tell him come shop
Designer on me, my jeans Number (N) ine
And I keep the pistol, yeah, I keep a 9, yuh
And she might be a ten
But she can't get a dime
Ain't sipping on no Gin, my cup full of slime
This nigga think he gang
He think he my slime
If I wanna fuck, she gon give me access
If y'all want some smoke
Then give me yo address
I don't do the beef, nigga
I shoot the address
She came out with me, got this nigga upset
I don't give a fuck
Hope that boy stay stressed
She lift that ass up just like a bench press
Yeah, she loving my fashion
With Sosa that's my crip
He gon' get shit cracking
Toolie on my hip, I'ma get to blasting
Fucking on yo bitch then you know I'm passing
Smoking good gas, yeah, my blunts is massive
With my dawg, with my mastiff
New 40, it'll turn you to ashes
You run up on me, get your ass kicked
This 223 make niggas backflip
I ain't got shit for you so stop asking
Pull up in a Lex, yeah, that bitch all black
Watanabe, bet you ain't know that
The Smith in my jeans, ain't gotta show that
Glock with a beam, Summrs gon' blow that
Just me and KB smoking that good pack
Jugging niggas, no
You can't get your shit back
Pop me a Xan, fuck the pain
I don't feel that
With Sosa, that's my crip
Nigga gon' get shit cracking
Toolie on my hip, I'ma get to blasting
Fucking on yo bitch then you know I'm passing
Smoking good gas, yeah, my blunts is massive
With my dawg, with my mastiff
New 40, it'll turn you to ashes
You run up on me, get your ass kicked
This 223 make niggas backflip
I ain't got shit for you so stop asking
Sipping on this Wock' till my heart stop
Kick this ho out the ride
If she ain't giving top
Nigga really want smoke
He can really get popped
Yeah, I heard he a jugg
Finna tell him come shop
Designer on me, my jeans Number (N) ine
And I keep the pistol, yeah, I keep a 9, yuh
And she might be a ten
But she can't get a dime
Ain't sipping on no Gin, my cup full of slime
This nigga think he gang
He think he my slime
If I wanna fuck, she gon give me access
If y'all want some smoke
Then give me yo address
I don't do the beef, nigga
I shoot the address
She came out with me, got this nigga upset
I don't give a fuck
Hope that boy stay stressed
She lift that ass up just like a bench press
Yeah, she loving my fashion
With Sosa that's my crip
He gon' get shit cracking
Toolie on my hip, I'ma get to blasting
Fucking on yo bitch then you know I'm passing
Smoking good gas, yeah, my blunts is massive
With my dawg, with my mastiff
New 40, it'll turn you to ashes
You run up on me, get your ass kicked
This 223 make niggas backflip
I ain't got shit for you so stop asking
Pull up in a Lex, yeah, that bitch all black
Watanabe, bet you ain't know that
The Smith in my jeans, ain't gotta show that
Glock with a beam, Summrs gon' blow that
Just me and KB smoking that good pack
Jugging niggas, no
You can't get your shit back
Pop me a Xan, fuck the pain
I don't feel that