.Mon - Blast (feat. midwxst, kaixan) lyrics

(Marko did you make this?)

Think you harder than me, boy, just stop it
You gon' make me laugh
Don't know what to wear, mix that Number
(N) ine with the new Raf
I don't give a fuck, you ain't on my team
Not on my staff
If I call the gang they might
Have to let that fucker blast

You better shut up
I'm tired of all that motherfucking talking
She thought that she gon' get
A ride home, nah bitch, she walking
Just spend one thousand on the fit
That's just like shopping
I'm making these songs all day like a job
I better go clock in
We just might pull up right
Now, yeah, broad day, they gon' pop him
Blood's all on the floor, yeah
They gon' havе to come mop him
Talking that nonsense
I don't wanna hеar you speak
Got a Glock-17, gotta keep that heat
People really love talking that talk about me
1K in my bank and that's just last week
Just hit 3K, boutta raise my fees
Going up, nigga, yeah, you all gon' see
317, gotta rep my scene
Might just go out, some Balmain jeans

Might just go get the Balmain jeans
I won't fuck that bitch, she stink
White ho, big tit's, pussy on pink
Finna get a new bitch, new
Moncler, new kicks, Hellcat
After flipping these bricks
Yeah, and we be going stupid but you better
Watch out 'fore I'm fucking your bitch
Give a bitch ten racks
She come back with new tit's
Fucking with, I don't wanna have kids
Blow it with the gang, yeah, take a few hit's
Better watch out 'cause I'm back on my shit
She wanna work, better give me my split's
That bitch that you left
I done cum on her lips
While you calling on her phone
But she sucking on my tip
If I was you I would give me some drip
We talking that shit, I don't know why
If you gonna run better be quiet
If you gonna shoot pull out the nine
Don't be a bitch, I put you in a shrine
Fucking that ho then I'm making her cry
Say you get bands, that shit is a lie
Your mixtape trash, bro, why do you try?
Don't play with them sticks if
You don't wanna die

Posted up with Tommy, keep
That yah, yah, yah, yah
Bitch, I'm on a boat, I'm
On a yacht, yacht, yacht, yacht
Pussyboy, he keep on talking
Stop, stop, stop, stop
I'm fucking silent 'less he
Talking 'bout the guap, yeah
I can learn to forgive but
I can't learn to forget
All the bullshit you be saying don't
Match what you fucking said
Leave the bodies like the messages
I leave 'em fucking red
If you wanna leave your life
Would you trade with me instead?

Think you harder than me, boy, just stop it
You gon' make me laugh
Don't know what to wear, mix that Number
(N) ine with the new Raf
I don't give a fuck, you ain't on my team
Not on my staff
If I call the gang they might
Have to let that fucker blast