Correction Lyrics On Fire by Peso Peso

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Lyrics

Ouu
Drip, splash
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
TSF Mexico, Mexico, Mexico
Peso Peso, Peso Peso
(Oh my beats on fire)

My hitta sticked up, slidin around in a black Benz
In the trap house gettin packs in
I got shooters on the roof with MAC-10s
I just left the doctor and he told me that I have money all on my CAT scan
You’re goddamn right I get a lot of racks in
N***a play with my money, them hittas gon hop out the black Benz
Whipped out with that carbon like "Who wanna play it"
I just want money, I don’t want sex
I slide with a Glock and I creep with a TEC
Hundred thousand on me while I sleep on a jet
Came from the bottom, I sleep with a chop
N***a don’t come correct, then, it’s gon be a problem
I seen an opp in the hood, shot him
I ball like the Celtics, I might move to Boston
I’m drippin in Fendi, these n***as are friendly
I’m shootin the K 'til the clip is empty
Can’t trust nobody, these n***as thievin
If I feel like you playin, put two in your fitted
Every city that I go to, I need real Percs and drank [?]
I’m so high, I’m so fly, me and Guan recording in the air
Got a hundred thousand in the Louis bag
If he get too close, I'ma shoot his a**
I got it out the mud, now, I’m rich, so, I can’t let nobody ruin that
Wasn’t sh*t given to me, I had to earn it
I’m strapped up, I am not trynna touch 'em
I got twin Glocks, I don’t need no mercy
I ball on n***as like I’m Russell
I just sold a brick in the back of the bag
These n***as more pu**y than Cat in the Hat
In the trap, sellin work with a strap in my lap
Try to reach for my chain, I put two in your cap
They think that I’m Christian, I scoot up and bless them
Balenciaga drippin, these are not Sketchers
I’m cookin up work in the kitchen, just like a chemist, n***a, just call me a professional
Lotta hoes on my phone, n***a, I got several
Kicked the b*t*h out the spot 'cause she dry like a desert
Outside on your block with Glocks and Chops and the car tailing me got TEC's and Berettas
Run up a sack don’t stop
N***a, I ain’t post no clock, come shop, we here
You can eat my d**k if you n***as jealous
In the Maserati and I'm ridin' careless
I got a shooter and he gonna shoot
I can’t f**k with these n***as, these n***as losers
I just hit a little foreign b*t*h, she from Cuba
F**k a eight, I need a cougar
Lil b*t*h thought she had to pay me no money, lil hoe you got that misconstrued
I’m in the club with my FN and my best friend, don’t make me lose it
Drip, drip, splash
Peso Peso, Peso Peso
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Oh my beats on fire
Drip

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