Never Fold

(I miss you, Bryce)
(Ayy, Woods, light that shit up)

Nigga, get back, you play with this side
You know that we moving like that
And I get the bag, I'm so
In love with this shit
I'ma play with the racks
My blunt full of OG gas bag
You know that I'm smoking the thrax
I'm texting this ho and she think I'ma wife
But I already know she a gnat
Run down on your bitch, pass her back to you
We won't even get into that
When I hit her back, and she sing hallelujah
And my woadie gon' send a
Pack like a quarterback
Gonna catch it like Julio
And she say that she love
Me, like really though
My bank account got them O's like cheerios

I really hope you don't fold on me
Hope you don't fold on me
This shit gеt old to me
This shit get old to me
And thеn she get old to me
Gas bag, got a load on me
Why you tryna put a hold on me?
You know that we going too deep
You know that we going too deep
Woah, woah, stop that (Okay)
Woah, woah, stop that shit
Balling on niggas, I'm feeling like Vick
And I spend about two racks all on my kicks
He stepped on my troops and
He's gonna get hit
That lil' boy can't see me
I'm moving in reach
I'm so geeked out my mind
When I'm making these hit's

Nigga, get back, you play with this side
You know that we moving like that
And I get the bag, I'm so
In love with this shit
I'ma play with the racks
My blunt full of OG gas bag
You know that I'm smoking the thrax
I'm texting this ho and she think I'ma wife
But I already know she a gnat
Run down on your bitch, pass her back to you
We won't even get into that
When I hit her back, and she sing hallelujah
And my woadie gon' send a
Pack like a quarterback
Gonna catch it like Julio
And she say that she love
Me, like really though
My bank account got them O's like cheerios

Oh, that girl geeked up out her mind
She got a whole new type of design
Please don't try, I won't reply
Swear she love when I play with her spine
Girl, I could put you in Chanel
Beat it at the hotel
Look at me, you can tell
Oh my, I don't got that type of time
Might get the Rollie but it won't tell time
I need a bougie bitch all in my life
Hold me down and know your rights
Fifty round drum, we don't fight
Glock-19 with glow-up sights
Hell nah, this ain't no Gen 4, bitch
We shooting Gen 5

Nigga, get back, you play with this side
You know that we moving like that
And I get the bag, I'm so
In love with this shit
I'ma play with the racks
My blunt full of OG gas bag
You know that I'm smoking the thrax
I'm texting this ho and she think I'ma wife
But I already know she a gnat
Run down on your bitch, pass her back to you
We won't even get into that
When I hit her back, and she sing hallelujah
And my woadie gon' send a
Pack like a quarterback
Gonna catch it like Julio
And she say that she love
Me, like really though
My bank account got them O's like cheerios