f*ck lyrics

[Intro]
808 demon
What the f*ck—

[Chorus]
f*ck, f*ck
b*tch, I spilt my cup
Bags on bags on bags, I just be runnin' sh*t up, huh
Racks on racks on racks, she wanna f*ck, I touched down in Paris
Thousand dollars, my appearance
Too many sons, I feel like a goddamn parent

[Verse]
217, elites, yeah, these b*tches say that I'm fleek, huh
Miami, b*tch, I got heat, I went to good times, I be hurtin' my feet
These n*ggas look up to me, yeah, Maajins gon' f*ck with the beat
Bought her a new bag, slay, boy, you sweet
And I got top in the G
They askin' questions, "How the f*ck you do it?"
But I just talk on the beat
I'm gettin' money up, b*tch, I'm higher than God
I put my cup on the seat
Lean on my ex ho, b*tch, I feel like X'
I'm in yo' hood, sippin' tea
I'm a lil' addict to this goddamn coupé
And this b*tch quit sippin' lean
Hold on, my coupé, it got two doors
I'm gon' dip, like, "Kudos"
I been gettin' so much bag, my pockets fat like Xhulooo
f*ck, yeah, hold on
f*ck, b*tch, I'm the goat, run it up
I-I could just say the same sh*t on music 'cause I'm still goin' up (F-f*ck)
Yeah, I don't f*ck with that lame sh*t
You a mean b*tch, I'll tell you straight up (F-f*ck, f*ck)
These n*ggas really my sons
You cannot be me, b*tch, you gon' run out of luck
[Chorus]
f*ck, f*ck
b*tch, I spilt my cup
Bags on bags on bags, I just be runnin' sh*t up, huh
Racks on racks on racks, she wanna f*ck, I touched down in Paris
Thousand dollars, my appearance
Too many sons, I feel like a goddamn parent