Warhol.SS, Famous Dex - SO SAD lyrics
Famous Dex [Dexter Tiewon Gore Jr.] Chicago, Illinois.U.S.
[Warhol.SS, Famous Dex - SO SAD lyrics]
I can't give no fuck 'bout no bitch
I can't go out sad
They gon' throw a fit, 'bout that bitch
He forever mad
Fifteen on my wrist, wit' the Bent
Boy gon' double dash
YSL my fit, Nike kicks, I count double cash
I can't give no fuck 'bout no bitch
I can't go out sad
They gon' throw a fit, 'bout that bitch
He forever mad
Fifteen on my wrist, wit' the Bent
Boy gon' double dash
YSL my fit, Nike kicks, I count double cash
I don't give no fucks 'bout yo bitch
He gon' bawl and cry
40 wit' the drum, extra stick
He can't go outside
Eighty on my wrist, sippin' lean
Shit I'm extra tired
Ha, that's your bitch she bi
Ha off them pills I'm high
And I don't know why
Niggas be hatin' they bitchin'
Pullin' out all of yo extensions
Hit from the back and she flinchin'
Warhol love the cake
I just might dirty the kitchen
See that little nigga be sayin' it
Warhol be stuntin' this way
Send in my shooters he missin'
Five bitches yeah I'm poppin'
Don't gotta talk just listen
I used to whip in the kitchen
Got Givenchy all up on my tag, ha
Call up Warhol fuck your sister
Got these niggas mad
All this shit so simple
Pop a nigga like a pimple
Bad hoe wit' the dimples
Fuck that hoe til' she crippled
Walked in wit' the gang wit' me and
We all strapped wit' the missiles
Two Tec's I got bad rep better
Not test so we eager
Five hoes doin' coke whole time
These bitches really simple
She wanna suck on my missiles
Now I have to ride for my woe
Nah nigga you can't hang wit' me
Smokin' the Woods no pencil
Hop in the foreign, no rental
Coppin' the wave I knew you were mental
Bag it, bag it up
I get that money and add it up
Camel toe, she ain't bad enough
We can not diss her wit' it no taxin' us
Aye, pull up and pass
Eatin' that chicken Gladys
Aye, headed to Roscoe's
Suckin' yo bitch she the badest
Ooh, I don't want your bitch, she so slick
She gon' go inside
Run into a bag, you so mad, you so extra mad
Pop up and I'm glad
Hunnid' thousand right up on my tag
Ha, Goyard on my bag
Got these boys so extra mad
I can't give no fuck 'bout no bitch
I can't go out sad
They gon' throw a fit, 'bout that bitch
He forever mad
Fifteen on my wrist, wit' the Bent
Boy gon' double dash
YSL my fit, Nike kicks, I count double cash
I can't give no fuck 'bout no bitch
I can't go out sad
They gon' throw a fit, 'bout that bitch
He forever mad
Fifteen on my wrist, wit' the Bent
Boy gon' double dash
YSL my fit, Nike kicks, I count double cash
Yeah ooh, aye whoa
We gon' double dash, aye whoa
Speed up we don't crash, aye whoa
Know he count that bag, aye whoa
Why that boy so sad
I can't go out sad
They gon' throw a fit, 'bout that bitch
He forever mad
Fifteen on my wrist, wit' the Bent
Boy gon' double dash
YSL my fit, Nike kicks, I count double cash
I can't give no fuck 'bout no bitch
I can't go out sad
They gon' throw a fit, 'bout that bitch
He forever mad
Fifteen on my wrist, wit' the Bent
Boy gon' double dash
YSL my fit, Nike kicks, I count double cash
I don't give no fucks 'bout yo bitch
He gon' bawl and cry
40 wit' the drum, extra stick
He can't go outside
Eighty on my wrist, sippin' lean
Shit I'm extra tired
Ha, that's your bitch she bi
Ha off them pills I'm high
And I don't know why
Niggas be hatin' they bitchin'
Pullin' out all of yo extensions
Hit from the back and she flinchin'
Warhol love the cake
I just might dirty the kitchen
See that little nigga be sayin' it
Warhol be stuntin' this way
Send in my shooters he missin'
Five bitches yeah I'm poppin'
Don't gotta talk just listen
I used to whip in the kitchen
Got Givenchy all up on my tag, ha
Call up Warhol fuck your sister
Got these niggas mad
All this shit so simple
Pop a nigga like a pimple
Bad hoe wit' the dimples
Fuck that hoe til' she crippled
Walked in wit' the gang wit' me and
We all strapped wit' the missiles
Two Tec's I got bad rep better
Not test so we eager
Five hoes doin' coke whole time
These bitches really simple
She wanna suck on my missiles
Now I have to ride for my woe
Nah nigga you can't hang wit' me
Smokin' the Woods no pencil
Hop in the foreign, no rental
Coppin' the wave I knew you were mental
Bag it, bag it up
I get that money and add it up
Camel toe, she ain't bad enough
We can not diss her wit' it no taxin' us
Aye, pull up and pass
Eatin' that chicken Gladys
Aye, headed to Roscoe's
Suckin' yo bitch she the badest
Ooh, I don't want your bitch, she so slick
She gon' go inside
Run into a bag, you so mad, you so extra mad
Pop up and I'm glad
Hunnid' thousand right up on my tag
Ha, Goyard on my bag
Got these boys so extra mad
I can't give no fuck 'bout no bitch
I can't go out sad
They gon' throw a fit, 'bout that bitch
He forever mad
Fifteen on my wrist, wit' the Bent
Boy gon' double dash
YSL my fit, Nike kicks, I count double cash
I can't give no fuck 'bout no bitch
I can't go out sad
They gon' throw a fit, 'bout that bitch
He forever mad
Fifteen on my wrist, wit' the Bent
Boy gon' double dash
YSL my fit, Nike kicks, I count double cash
Yeah ooh, aye whoa
We gon' double dash, aye whoa
Speed up we don't crash, aye whoa
Know he count that bag, aye whoa
Why that boy so sad