Correction Lyrics Like This by G Herbo

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Lyrics

Tash Davis on the beat, yeah
DJ Victoriouz with me in the building
Uh

A hunnid million what I'm tryna get
Anything to get this paper, bitch, I'm tryin' it, uh
Ain't nobody gon' play with me, nigga, reach, I'm firin' it (Bah)
Know your enemy, go broke lil' nigga, mm-mm, I'm dyin' with it, boy (Lil Uzi, let's go, yeah)

You ain't got guap like this
You ain't got cash like this (Yeah)
You ain't got guap like this
Suck my dick, bitch, ashy lips (Yeah)
You ain't got guap like this
You ain't got cash like this (Yeah)
You ain't got guap like this (Yeah)
You ain't got cash like this (Yeah)

Smokin' exotic, I'm high ass shit
I'll die if I don't keep this bitch on my hip
Hopefully I don't shoot this bitch off the rim
Ain't like you rappers with all that lip (Shit)
Canary my diamond, they wet just like lemon (What?)
Ocean my neck and this shit like Pacific (Yeah)
I like my bitches with fat ass and titties (Yeah)
No, no, no, Lil Uzi, not too specific (Let's go)
Ain't like you bappers, we real Kobe Cappers
You niggas be actors and not even factors
Playin' with the racks and they back in the back seat
I shoot like a Raptor, a rapper attack me
DM that ho, but she still in my mentions
Bitches be talkin', these ho they be snitchin'
Niggas be talkin', these niggas be snitchin'
Got a Glock on my waist and I had to click-click it

A hunnid million what I'm tryna get
Anything to get this paper, bitch, I'm tryin' it, uh
Ain't nobody gon' play with me, nigga, reach, I'm firin' it (Bah)
Know your enemy, go broke lil' nigga, mm-mm, I'm dyin' with it, boy (Let's go, yeah)

You ain't got guap like this
You ain't got cash like this (Yeah)
You ain't got guap like this (Yeah)
You ain't got cash like this (Yeah)
You ain't got guap like this (Let's go)
You ain't got cash like this (Yeah)
You ain't got guap like this (Yeah)
You ain't got cash like this (Yeah)

Canary my diamond, they wet just like lemon
Ocean my neck and this shit like Pacific
I like my bitches with fat ass and titties
No, no, no, Lil Uzi, not too specific
DM that ho, but she still in my mentions
Bitches be talkin', these ho they be snitchin'
Niggas be talkin', these niggas be snitchin'
Got a Glock on my waist and I had to click-click it

I went to every jeweler in this shit, told all of 'em, better not tax me
And I got two bribs in LA right now 'cause that's where the packs be
You don't know we in the 'Raq runnin' shit, you don't know us
Empty the clip off a hip, pour a four up
On the bullshit, on the block like Noah
Give me the beef well-done like BOA, bitch
Certified nigga, can't see what I'm shootin'
I pop out with your bitch, I had to recruit her
Okay, she know I fucked with all her friends
But she don't say nothin', she scared to lose me (Let's go)
I fuck them lil' bitches right to my music
Pull out my dick, bitches start flutin' woah
She say she don't fuck with niggas, uh (What?)
So she still shoppin' at Gucci (Let's go)
Way before rap wasn't lyin' on IG
Actually been here, sauce like Zaxby’s, ayy, uh
Built my wave like Max B
I'm in New York, free Max B
I be in a New York like a taxi
Ridin' the Lambo truck, finna pull up, swerve
Car seat in the backseat
Your bitch, she attracted to money (Nyoom)
Yeah that's why she fuckin' (Yeah)
My niggas attracted to shootin'
That's why they keep bussin' (Woah)
I'm with the gang for life
You know that I'm stuck in it (Yeah)
You know they gon' up that price
You know they ain't touchin' shit
Niggas gettin' richer, but smoke, we ain't duckin' it
I'm in Chiraq when I ride with a hunnid clip
Richard Mille plain cost a hunnid clip
Pushin' the Rolls, but the Maybach my brother whip
Yeah, that boy Vert know he hit me, I'm comin' quick
Fuck all this rappin', we ain't with that sucka shit
Hunnid clip, pull out the window and dump at you
We backin' friends, feel comfortable (Let's go, yeah)

Bitch, I'm havin' shit
I wear a whip on my wrist
Real killers ridin' with straps, can't respond to rap, I don't trip on a diss
When we print out the physicals, cop my disc
Chill out, hop off my dick
Yeah, it's me and Vert, skrrt
Big forty'll burst, you get murked, jerk (Pussy)
Brand new Richard Mille, yeah
Hop out, stack, do this, yeah
Brand new Lambo, runnin' through red lights like I'm the track with that bitch (Nyoom)
Brand new red 'Rari, uh, ain't no traction in it, yeah

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