Cash Kidd - Trust Me lyrics

[Cash Kidd - Trust Me lyrics]

(Do it) My sweet babe (Shine)
My sweet baby (Prove it)
My sweet baby (Say it) ooh, yeah
Uh, huh, P. Dot got that pack
Ooh ooh, I don't wanna wait (Ayy)

Can't wait to smack you, nigga
Been itchin' to do it hit stick
You gon' make my lil' niggas lose it
His bitch finally left him
I'm the reason they ruined
See me in her texts and
I ain't even in Houston
We gon' air him in the morning
Since that nigga so foolish
His bitch scratched my whole back
That's why he skippin' my music
Huh, they keep hatin' like I
Wasn't their biggest influence
BeBe Kidd got successful
I'm not listenin' to 'em



Why you mad that bitch chose?
She want a winner (Why you mad?)
Tired of arguin' 'bout hoes over dinner
('Bout hoes)
Flew hеr to the hills, fucked her
Bryson Tillеr (All night)
Took her to a show, fucked her in a Sprinter
(On the low) I'm like Michael Jackson, hand
Full of glitter, nigga he like Scooby-Doo
Whole van full of snitches
Buyin' guns from the nerds
Teachin' scams to the killers
Motherfuck what you heard, that
Boy handlin' business, huh

Bitch said it's over, I
Don't when we started, huh
Tried to play my heart, she
Ain't know I was heartless, huh
Quick to draw
He thought I was only an artist
I'm like Melvin
Lettin' weed strands grow in the garden
Talkin' million dollar plays when
I bump into Ghazi all the opps mad as hell
They more pissed than Chauncey, huh
Hit him with that gazer like SoLLUMINATI
(Baow, baow) two bitches
You know P in the middle like Taraji
Make me smack you with a hollow tip
You know my temper tiny
Boy, you keep comin' to lose short
Like you hoop in the nineties, ooh
I just dropped a bag on my bitch
Money well spent free the real niggas
Throwin' sixes in they jail pens (Ayy)
Countin' money in the Ghost
Laughin' like I'm Tales Crypt
Broke ass boy gon' make me shoot
Up all these damn tints nigga, come outside
Can't wait to make you duck
Since you givin' run arounds, nigga

Why you mad that bitch chose?
She want a winner (Why you mad?)
Tired of arguin' 'bout hoes over dinner
('Bout hoes)
Flew her to the hills, fucked her
Bryson Tiller (All night)
Took her to a show, fucked her in a Sprinter
(On the low) I'm like Michael Jackson, hand
Full of glitter, nigga he like Scooby-Doo
Whole van full of snitches
Buyin' guns from the nerds
Teachin' scams to the killers
Motherfuck what you heard
That boy handlin' business trust me

Love me (Say it) if you'll trust me (Do it)
Do you want me? (Show it)
If you need me (Prove it)
If you love me (Do it)
If you want me (Show it)
If you need me (Prove it)
If you love me (Say it)
If you trust me (Do it)
If you want me (Show it) trust me (Do it)
If you want me (Show it)

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