Yung Booke, Future - Easter Fit lyrics

Yeah, back to the cash (ATL Jacob, ATL Jacob)

Died in the Easter fit before you
Can wear it out, yeah, yeah
I just bought a brand-new ratchet
At my grandma house, uh, uh
I been wavin' that gat' since a juvenile, uh
Uh i be dressed like a martian
Takeoff, rockets now, uh, uh
Ooh, I'm dressin' tacky, none of
My designers match, uh, uh
Not my main bitch but she
Got my name tatted, uh, uh
You gotta front me a mill' or
I'm not comin' back, uh, uh
When it come to poppin' my shit, bitch
I was made for that, uh, uh

Two hunnid on the coupe
I'ma come through like a maniac (yeah, yeah)
Lil' nigga stole my style and
Had to bring it back (Uh, uh)
Bad lil' bitch in college
She give me brainiac (yeah, yeah)
Any kids woofin they could've do
It gimme their candies pack (Uh, uh)
Blueface wanted the same colors
As them hunnids is (Eh, eh)
Heard your shooter was strapped but
He gon' run with heels (Uh, uh)
He just spent new bands inside of Barnerville
(Eh, eh)
I'm so money savage just like Uncle Phil
(Naw, for real)
They know I run my city just like Big U
(Big U) his thottie hold the choppa
Had me switchin shoes (Tah)
No kid in the back, can't yell
They better not play with you
(Not play with you, yeah)
Hustlin' in my veins, do what my daddy do
(I ball)

Died in the Easter fit before you
Can wear it out, yeah, yeah
I just bought a brand-new ratchet
At my grandma house, uh, uh
I been wavin' that gat' since a juvenile, uh
Uh i be dressed like a martian
Takeoff, rockets now, uh, uh
Ooh, I'm dressin' tacky, none of
My designers match, uh, uh
Not my main bitch but she
Got my name tatted, uh, uh
You gotta front me a mill' or
I'm not comin' back, uh, uh
When it come to poppin' my shit, bitch
I was made for that, uh, uh

I'm 'bout to catch a private and
I'ma be late for that, uh, uh
I just splashed a model, Mediterranean, uh
Uh
Zoom, zoom, zoom in a Urus like a maniac, uh
Uh fucked your bitch on sight, that's
My lil' new-new, yeah, yeah
Mixin' lean and Sprite, it got
My screws loose, yeah, yeah
Topped me and beggin' me: ''please
Give me choo-choo'', yeah, yeah
Shawty got down on her knees
Slurped me like noodles, uh, uh
Choppin' a brick in the trap like
I know kung fu, uh, uh
Pablo Escobar with the work
Do numbers, yeah, yeah
Pop me one, I, whoo, turn to a monster, uh
Uh forty pointers on her wrist
I'm her sponsor, yeah, yeah
That's the one, put that dick
Past her tonsils, uh, uh
(yeah)

Died in the Easter fit before you
Can wear it out, yeah, yeah
I just bought a brand-new ratchet
At my grandma house, uh, uh
I been wavin' that gat' since a juvenile, uh
Uh