Ta Da (feat. Calii Breezze)

Uh, uh

Chill, you can't even come to the crib

I was outside in Atlanta

So she don't even know where I live, woah

Where is your manners?

She eat that dick like a dinner

Don't pop a Xan', hop in the Sprinter

Uh, wait

I was the one in the Balenciagas

You talking down, then I hit up my partner

Dread head really look like a Rasta

He not gon' blick me, he not a shotta

I'm tryna get the bag like my father

Say he get money, ooh, nada

I make that boy disappear, ta da!

Down bad, had to stay with my mother, yeah

I was down bad undercover, uh

And don't try to touch, no

That choppa, it bust

Yeah, that choppa, it bust you

I'm number one and he two

Ayy, tell me to do it

Um, I can't even do it

I know my bitch thicker than you

Um, he can't even prove it

Uh, I got that juice

Um, he can't even do it

Man, I'm smoking this boof

Chill, you can't even come to the crib

I was outside in Atlanta

So she don't even know where I live, woah

Where is your manners?

She eat that dick like a dinner

Don't pop a Xan', hop in the Sprinter

Uh, wait

I was the one in the Balenciagas

You talking down, then I hit up my partner

Dread head really look like a Rasta

He not gon' blick me, he not a shotta

I'm tryna get the bag like my father

Say he get money, ooh, nada

I make that boy disappear, ta da!

I keep a stick like Harry Potter

I fuck yo' bitch, I don't even call her

I put them racks all in my collar

That bitch is a gnat, her head like a scholar

Smoking green just like olive

I follow the money just like a stalker

High off a tree like koala

High off me like a flosser

High off the lean like a cougher

He see the beam, then we lost him

See the drip, yeah, it cost him

Yeah, it cost him

Ayy, .30 on my hip

He ain't even know, 'cause he ain't hip

No umbrella catch this drip

Chill, you can't even come to the crib

I was outside in Atlanta

So she don't even know where I live, woah

Where is your manners?

She eat that dick like a dinner

Don't pop a Xan', hop in the Sprinter

Uh, wait

I was the one in the Balenciagas

You talking down, then I hit up my partner

Dread head really look like a Rasta

He not gon' blick me, he not a shotta

I'm tryna get the bag like my father

Say he get money, ooh, nada

I make that boy disappear, ta da!

(Yung Brando, bitch)