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McLaren
by
Lil Uzi Vert
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Lyrics
DP on the beat Yeah, freestyle off the top with a pen full Yeah we run every time we hit ten fold (Yeah) Real n***a yeah I gotta stay on ten toes (Bah) I'm a shark what you think that this fin for (Fin) Neck hit off a lick now my wrist froze (Brr) Black b*t*hes I don't even like mixed hoes (Mmm-mmm) Skinny jeans yeah and this Glock really fittin hoe (On God) I only take pictures with bad hoes (Yeah) Cuz n***as they be opps on the f**kin' low (Who dat?) F**k her fast yeah, nah I can never hit it slow (Mmm) Make her moan now I'm fixed like she hit her toe (Ooh ooh) Rollie on my wrist I ain't got TikTok (Brah) Cold block he be jumpin' like Chris Rock Heard a noise and I had to grab the G-lock (Who dat?) I ain't go to bed til I hear the dog stop Ayy, got a 40 Glock on me, no safety (Forty) Catch me slidin' on the opps yeah they hate me (Slide) Goin' to war with the ones that raised me (F**k 'em) Pull up, shoot 'em all damn daily (Grr, bow) out the cage, that's KD (Bro) I don't f**k with no n***a that's opps (uh-uh) I wipe a n***a nose like snot (What?) Headshot now he dead in a box Draco, paint him red like a fox (Draco) Had to count he got hit in the top (Yeah) Uzi got the the uzi make him Diddy Bop (Brr) Once he fall to the floor with no top I don't want the top give me some room McLaren too fast, go zoom McLaren too fast, go zoom McLaren gettin' followed by Benz truck Bro hit his shot at the opps and we six up Shot him in his face and he had to pick his lip up ZEV Tech on the Glock, big body kitted up How you leave your bro on the ground, pick him up My b*t*h a** fat that's a nip tuck (facts) B*t*h suck on this d**k 'til you hiccup I don't f**k regular b*t*hes got rich sl*ts I be Louis from the toe 'til the drip up (Lil Uzi) Me and Wet f**kin' hoes in the Benz truck (Yeah) Catch a opp on a muthaf**kin' pick up Shoot him in the Uber man he shoulda had a lift truck Tight shirt and it always lift up Got a full damn block and it flip up Every n***a dead ever try to diss us Wockhardt body, baby I ain't got the triss touch You got no bodies, shut up, you can't hang with us I do not f**k with yo' gang, I can't bang with you Knife on my muf**kin' choppa, I shank you up Bro on the block with the rock and the angel dust (Huh?) B*t*h suck my d**k and you know I'ma paint it up (Let's go) Kick her out, yeah, you know I cannot save a sl*t (Bye) I got the swag in this b*t*h Got this money, Botega my bag in this b*t*h (Hello?) Yeah, I'm feelin' richer than ever, this Richard my wrist this sh*t lookin' wetter Emeralds my neck, no, I'm not a bagetter Go to the club and I'm changin' the weather (Yeah) I'm makin' it storm, I pull off in foreign F**kin' yo' b*t*h, look like we make a p*** (Uh huh, yeah) I'm makin' plays on the phone (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah) B*t*h, I'ma dog, send you down to the bone, yeah (Lil Uzi)
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