My Phone

Half the fammo in the kitchen
Half the fammo on the road
We don't need to hit the strippers
To get some bitches on the pole
I got bitches on my phone
I got bitches on my phone
Yeah, I got bitches on my phone
I got bitches on my phone

And they love me
They twerkin' like they makin' some money
But they don't they just some real bitches
Hoppin' for a few of the homies
Then they gone and they holler
They holler like I'm holding some money
But I don't they just some real bitches
They know I bring 'em round for my homies
I got bitches on my phone

Uh, layin' on the 25th floor with her
Way above the city poppin' bottles
With the gold sticker
Friends are heading over from the beach
In the new Ranger Rove'
Got the heat inside the seats
Lil' takeout, lil' titties, lil' weed
Big booty, big bag with the little LV on it
I'm growin' up in the suburbs drunk
She growin' up in the city wasted
We come together but we both
Came from different places
Whoop, I'm turnt up, she turnt out
She work hard, we work out
I flirt and she twerk out
She into makin' love but she's
Not really down for fuckin'
Told me that she got a man
But they are done now, fuck it

Throw some ones at it man, I am so high
You could see forever if you
Looked into my eyes
Dreamin' 'bout the poolsides, future rides
Cars that don't go to heaven, doors suicide

And they love me
They twerkin' like they makin' some money
But they don't they just some real bitches
Hoppin' for a few of the homies
Then they gone and they holler
They holler like I'm holding some money
But I don't they just some real bitches
They know I bring 'em round for my homies
I got bitches on my phone
I got bitches on my phone
I got bitches on my phone
Yeah, I got bitches on my phone
I got bitches on my phone
Yeah, I got bitches on my phone
I got bitches on my phone
Yeah, I got bitches on my phone
I got bitches on my phone

Yeah, I ain't sweatin' that
Everyone tryna sun me
Shades darker than the shade
From the money tree
Uh, I got a taste for imported booze
The champagne is from France, and I order two
Whole crew tied up with some fine bitches
And we bringin' 'em to our zone
What you know about time difference?
Nine hours if you call in London
Eight hours if you call in Paris
Hookin' up with model bitches
Then leaving them for hotter bitches
Leaving them for hotter bitches
Then leaving them for hotter bitches
Uh, I got bitches on my phone
And I'm trippin' cause bitches just
Won't leave me alone
Uh, I'm steppin' on my work ups
Tryna stack a third cup
Swisher gettin' burnt up
The hoes gettin' turnt up my Lord
Chillin' with some halfies gettin' perms done
They thought I was the sweetest till
All of them bodies turned up

And they love me
They twerkin' like they makin' some money
But they don't they just some real bitches
Hoppin' for a few of the homies
Then they gone and they holler
They holler like I'm holding some money
But I don't they just some real bitches
They know I bring 'em round for my homies
I got bitches on my phone
I got bitches on my phone
I got bitches on my phone
Yeah, I got bitches on my phone
I got bitches on my phone
Yeah, I got bitches on my phone
I got bitches on my phone
Yeah, I got bitches on my phone
I got bitches on my phone

Yeah, half the fammo in the kitchen
Half the fammo on the road
We don't need to hit the strippers
To get some bitches on the pole
I got bitches on my phone
I got bitches on my phone
Yeah, I got bitches on my phone
I got bitches on my phone