Correction Lyrics Balmain Jeans by NBA Meechy Baby

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Lyrics

(DJ Swift on the track)
(Yung Ting, you goin' crazy)
(Mommy, India got the beats)
(Brxtn, go crazy)
(Mook got the keys jumpin')

She want a young n***a that bossed up that always got money
Balmain jeans with them blue-faced hundreds
In the bottom sellin' dope, b*t*h, you know how Meech comin'
You know I don't play on phones, b*t*h, don't call my phone for nothin'
You can pull up on East Park if you tryna scope somethin'
Meechy Baby turn a half thing to a whole somethin'
I was down bad on my d**k, I couldn't even get off an onion
Meechy Baby start kickin' doors, b*t*h, I'm takin' somethin'

Hit it with that acetone, I can stretch somethin' (Hold on)
Lately I been feelin' paranoid like the feds comin'
Meechy Baby got that Ralo, I might see the feds or somethin'
They just squeezed my houses up, they just hit the house Sunday
I just missed a couple plays, that sh*t f**kin' up my money
Road runnin', hit the road, b*t*h, I'm tryna rob somethin'
Home invasion, stalk for days, you ain't never stalk nothin'
You ain't never lay off in no bushes waitin' 'til that car comin'
Huh, hoppin' out with beams when you see the car comin'
Hold on, b*t*h, give me everything, we ain't leavin' with nothin'
He got red-hand freckles, he a broad-day seven, hold on
In that bottom with that boy, b*t*h, you know Lil Meechy thuggin'
On them Adderall and bars, b*t*h, you know I'm really druggin'
Hit Vibes and Vegas Vape, b*t*h, you know I'm really clubbin'
We ain't hidin' in the city, pu**y b*t*hes know we thuggin'
Ain't no Bimmer or no Benz, know I pull up in a Cutlass

We just hit for H, he need a tester
First body was five, when I caught him, you know I stretched him
n***a killed my cousin, he regret I brought that pressure
All I need is the drama, about to stop him with this cutter
Thought that was my cousin, no, b*t*h, that was my brother
I'm best friends with the reaper, you gotta suffer repercussions
Stupid b*t*h, you wanna touch, you 'bouta lay up in this puddle
Killed him and his kids, f**k 'em, let his mama love him
Hard to sleep at night, too much sh*t up on my conscience
Money on my head, pu**y n***a tryna hunt me
But they know I ain't scared, they know I ain't runnin'
Got some money up on dummy, when I catch him, watch I flush him
b*t*h, this chopper hold a hundred

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