Big Sad 1900 - Convertible Music lyrics

Ayy
I'm tryna pick you up, bitch, like, you know?
(L-Finguz)
Call me when you not by your friends and shit, when you by yourself
(Armani, this shit stuey, boy)
We could chill, let's hit the steakhouse, do somethin', you know?
I got too much goin' on, just a regular street nigga tryna make it out, baby, you know?
Yeah, I support what you do though, I fuck with it, like
You a boss bitch, you know what I'm sayin'?
Respect is given though, you know?
Rock with me though, like, you know?
Just a young nigga tryna make a way out this shit, like, you know?

Yeah, look, I can never lose when I'm with you (Nah)
I be gone, I'm on the road, feel like I miss you
I get mad, go through her phone, she like, "Is this you?"
Traumatized from my last bitch, the shit I went through
You the type of bitch that I need in my life
Tell me when I'm wrong and you tell me when I'm right
My bitch fucked another nigga, did it out of spite
Can't be my child's mother, bitch, you can't be my wife (Nah)
Chanel bags, I can see you poppin' out with LVs (Yeah)
You a bad bitch, it ain't nothin' that they could tell me
Gave the bitch my love, already knew that she would fail me (Yeah)
I done sold it all, it ain't too much that you could sell me

Main thing, like, I fuck with you though, like
Look, this what we gon' do though, right?
We gon' book a trip, we goin' somewhere, we goin' to Jamaica, bitch, right?
Gon' get away from all these lames
We gon' go shopping, do some fly shit
Like, it's a lot of shit we can do out here though, it's just me and you, you know what I'm sayin'?
We can rock out, we can do champagne or codeine, you know what I'm sayin'?
We could drop the top, we could do the 'Vette, bitch, or the Maybach
What's happenin' though, like, you feel me?

Look, you got problems in your life, I'm tryna fix you (Real shit)
Them bitches talk down on you, they tried to diss you
I'ma pull the strap and get busy, they try to hit you
We goin' to Dubai, bring your friends, I'm like, "Pick two" (Huh?)
You held a nigga down and been around the hell we went through
Million-dollar yachts, it's just me, it's just you
Have the chef cook you lobster while I'm feeding you some fruit
You the rawest bitch I know, I wanna see you in that coupe
You know I got your back, you could call me through whatever
I spent thousands on designer, she be leavin' with my sweater
Had a case and did some time, she visited, sent me letters
Wait 'til I get back, she know nobody do it better, yeah

Just vibe out, bitch, you know what I'm sayin'?
Go get some loose leaves or somethin', like, pull up
I got the weed, I got the drank
Bring some sodas, like, you know what I'm sayin'?
Throw all your problems to the side for the night
Come rock with your boy, man
Don't think about none of that other shit
Tonight's your night, baby, you feel me?
I need you to feel yourself, feel like a million-dollar
Bitch when you with me, like, you know?
Can't nothin' stop you, baby
You that
Yeah
On everything, I go by the name of Big Sad 1900
(L-Finguz)
Fuck with me though, you know?
(Armani, this shit stuey, boy)