Big B’s lyrics

[Intro]
(Kid Wond3r, you made this beat?)
b*tch (Ayy), b*tch, b*tch, b*tch, b*tch (Ayy, ayy)

[Chorus]
Went to the store, left the stove runnin'
Got a clip full of hot sh*t, let you hold somethin'
High speed in a hot whip, b*tch, my car runnin'
Got her knees in my carpet tryna blow somethin'
Ride 'round in a Lambo and I'm ho huntin'
To the po-po, I'm John Doe, you don't know nothin'
Took a bomb dope, finger-lickin', got your nose runnin'
It's an F on all four of my rims, hundred

[Verse 1]
f*ck the job huntin', come on, get this Pyrex money
Junkie died in the traphouse, traphouse huntin'
New Bentley, Bucci gang, big B truck
Throw them B's up
Let's get high, burn them trees up
Roll some weed up
Suck it sloppy, scrape your knees up
b*tches please us
Shawty gang pickin' heats up
Killers greet us
I don't wanna hit your reefer, that's a chiefer
I just pulled up in a zebra with a cheetah
She told me to shove it deeper, she's a keeper
Left my jewelry in the freezer, Patek Philippe-a
Thick b*tch just walked past with a nice ass
Do a hit, then I skrrt past, then I skrrt past
Thick b*tch, I'm finna murk her lil' skirt ass
Broke b*tch talk sh*t with her lil' purse ass
[Chorus]
Went to the store, left the stove runnin'
Got a clip full of hot sh*t, let you hold somethin'
High speed in a hot whip, b*tch, my car runnin'
Got her knees in my carpet tryna blow somethin'
Ride 'round in a Lambo and I'm ho huntin'
To the po-po, I'm John Doe, you don't know nothin'
Took a bomb dope, finger-lickin', got your nose runnin'
It's an F on all four of my rims, hundred

[Verse 2]
Private jets, only boarding flights if it's first class
Scratch a b*tch off a checklist, I already smashed
Gucci flags, Balmain denim sag, Goyard shopping bag
Shoot that pus*y n*gga in his face, make him see that flash
Bird flipper, I just f*cked a stripper, hundred dollar tipper
Hit the mall, then leave with it all like a shoplifter
Chef 'Ardee, tryna spring a pot, I'm a pot whipper
Turn your house into a vacant lot, hundred shots in it
f*ck the club if they ain't tryna let us bring no Glocks in it
f*ck the time, I just bought a Rollie, it got rocks in it
That's a traphouse, but you ain't even got no pots in it
I ain't got no room in my pocket, I got knots in it

[Chorus]
Went to the store, left the stove runnin'
Got a clip full of hot sh*t, let you hold somethin'
High speed in a hot whip, b*tch, my car runnin'
Got her knees in my carpet tryna blow somethin'
Ride 'round in a Lambo and I'm ho huntin'
To the po-po, I'm John Doe, you don't know nothin'
Took a bomb dope, finger-lickin', got your nose runnin'
It's an F on all four of my rims, hundred
[Outro]
Forgi
Forgi