Vette Pass By Remix *Based Freestyle* lyrics

[Intro]
(You’re listening to 1c Radio on 34 FM)
1c Radio, n*gga, turn this sh*t the f*ck up
Put it on the speaker, n*gga, you know how I’m coming in this b*tch, n*gga
Real based boy sh*t, real Pretty Boy Millionaire sh*t
I’m in this b*tch n*gga, f*cking yo’ b*tch, n*gga
All day, n*gga, all day, n*gga, all day, n*gga
Aye, aye, swag
Aight, lemme tell ‘em
Swag, lemme tell ‘em
Aye

[Verse]
b*tch, I’m on yo’ ass, ‘Vette pass
Man, I pull up in this b*tch, and I’m smoking gas
I feel like Paul Walker, cuz I might crash
I stretch yo b*tch just like the rubber bands around my cash
Boy be talking down, but he never speak up
Man, I just left the plug house, you know I gotta re-up
Swag so dirty, man you know I gotta clean up
My room organized, so I nevеr gotta clean up
Aye, nevеr fold the crease up, and I got my cheese up
Saw these hating ass n*ggas on my page tryna creep up
Never been engaged to no b*tch, f*ck a prenup
They see 1c, and you know they wanna be us?
You team full of b*tches, need to get your G’s up
Moving to the millions, yes, because I got my G’s up
And I got my steez up, I just bought a mansion, I don’t need to pay my lease up
I just bought a foreign, I don’t gotta twist the key, bruh
b*tch I worked it from a half and moved up to the keys, bruh
Still busting sags, I don’t gotta pull my jeans up
My team on the field, running sh*t with they knees up
These n*ggas, they be sweeter than some cookies, call em Keebler
b*tch from Tijuana, tryna marry me for visa
Man, I don’t carry cash, I keep my sh*t on a Visa
My plug straight off the boat, man, he came from Costa Rica
I’m nothing like R. Kelly but my b*tch look like Aaliyah, drop the b*tch cuz I don’t need her
I don’t want no f*cking Fiat, man, I need a two-seater
b*tch, I bang it off the top, so I don’t need no proofreader
I like the top of your head, n*gga, now that’s a good idea
b*tch, me and Brodie look like Jon Jon and Hitman on URL
b*tch, me and Brodie look like ‘06 Gucci Mane and DJ Rell
n*ggas think they in the streets just because they went to jail
Man, If I ever went to jail, I got a b*tch to pay my bail
Everywhere I f*cking go, b*tch, my name be ringing bells
These n*ggas talking out they neck? Okay, I’ma send them hell
I touched the nine depths of Hell, then I bounced back and I prevailed
I make more money than your daddy cuz I know how to make and sell
That n*gga working in a office, I’ma call him Steve Carell
These n*ggas think they hot sh*t but I’m the hottest out for real
I’m shooting shots like Sam Casell riding in a black Chevelle
With my mama Gail, b*tch, my swag never looking stale
And I’m clutching on a Ruger, Lex Luger, make a beat
Man I turn around, grab the choppa, hit ‘em with the heat
It’s ironic how he talking fye but he can’t even take the heat
b*tch, I get money plus respect, every mission I complete
I’m out here f*cking n*ggas’ b*tches and busting nuts up on they feet
She wanna act like a dog, I tell her “roll over, take this treat”
Man, I’m a toxic boy for life, all my b*tches I mistreat
She on her knees, face to face with my di*k just like a meet and greet
You hate me? Okay, I hope you die from AIDS just like Eazy-E
Matter fact, I’m Suge Knight, I inject it into your veins while you asleep
So, boy, don’t look in my direction, and don’t say sh*t to me
I’ll lace your pills with fentanyl if you even make a Lil Peep
Nappa leather on my seats while I’m wood grain grippin’, b*tch, I’m really on the creep
And I know I’m off beat, but I’ma still keep going and running this whole beat
b*tch, I’m Stanley Yelnats, beating n*ggas’ hoes and putting ‘em six feet deep
You don’t know what I’m talking about, you ain’t ever read that book cuz you don’t know how to read
So I’ma call you Zero, cuz you don’t know sh*t
I’m in the H like Zero, sipping on this drank while I’m talking slow, b*tch
Last time I was Jerry Springer, but today, I’m Maury Povich
Looking for the n*gga who f*cked your ho? You already know I’m the culprit, f*ck n*gga
[Outro]
I’m the culprit, n*gga, I f*cked your ho, n*gga
Big Tenkay in this b*tch, n*gga
1c34 sh*t, man, pretty boy sh*t, man
f*ck everybody, n*gga, f*ck the world, n*gga, that’s why- that’s what timing I’m on, n*gga, that’s how I’m feeling today, n*gga
I’ma talk my sh*t, n*gga, I’ma always talk my sh*t
n*gga, you got some sh*t to say, say to me, say it to me direct, and come correct, b*tch
(Swag, swag, swag)
(D.J.A Beats, what’s happening?)