WOA! lyrics

[Intro: Zack Fox]
CONNIE, are you f*cking kidding me?
Woa, woa
Woa, woa
Woa, woa
Woa, woa
(Hot boy)

[Verse: ZelooperZ & Zack Fox]
Dirty mouth b*tch, eat a pound of soap
Tryna' hide the pack from him, but you found the coke
Kick you out, butt naked, but you found a coat
n*gga tryna' hang with me, better find the rope
I'm a young n*gga, just tryna' float
Rap don't work, I'ma find the four
Zaza clouds with a Keke Palmer
F-150 look like a boat
Cuddlin' with a fat b*tch, I'm kinda' cold
Did what I had to when I was broke
b*tch cheatin' on me 'bout to find the code
Your b*tch suck di*k with a common cold
Strapped in this b*tch, everybody know
.45 [?] domino
Ain't sh*t written out, time gon' tell
Bend around the corner, but money won't fold
Queen Latifah, get the f*ck on the floor
Run down on me like "Geronimo"
b*tch up the snow like abominable
Nasty ass hoe lick the c*m off the floor
Slap her in the face with a pile of mold
Hot boy, hot boy, I'm on a roll
Twinkle and glisten, these n*ggas get startled
TD Jakes, lil' b*tch, I need swallow
Pocket verde, avocado
Pocket whiteface, vitiligo
Tell a b*tch [?]
Make a b*tch sell pus*y at the dollar store
Brand new Mercedes same color as Moscato
Hop in that b*tch and I'm pushin' the throttle
Why in the f*ck would I trick on a model?
I ain't had money, still f*cked on a model
She wanna get drunk, put water in a bottle
Listerine kid, make a b*tch go gargle
Play with the fam, get hit with a hollow
b*tch hid the head and made me wobble
She wanna come rub on the wood like Apollo
ARP make a n*gga do Tae Bo
Bands in my pocket, I can't walk, I hobble
I can read my bank account like a novel
b*tch can't read me, this sh*t Morse code
I'll eat a pan b*tch, say "ありがとう"
This b*tch sick, I think she got Parvo
This b*tch treat me like Johnny Bravo
This whip start, one button like a vato
Walk in this b*tch, do my dance like Alonso
She like my jockin', I came from Atlanta
Badass b*tch, but she drive an Elantra
Made this cake off the Dolce-Gabbana
Hot ass hoe, so hot as savanna
Make that b*tch my designated driver
b*tch think she Burberry drivin' a Prowler
In love with the money, the money my powder
She throwing mixed signals, I think she a router
I'm pushin' the Bronco, I'm blowin' on sour
Suckin' my di*k to the Winans, wowzers
[Outro: Zack Fox]
Woa, woa
Woa, woa
Woa, woa
Woa, woa