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Bookoo Bucks
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(ATL Jacob, ATL Jacob) Bookoo bucks (Yeah), foreign coupe rush (Yeah) Do too much (Yeah), shop too much (Yeah) I'm too up, I'm feelin' a rush Haters on hush (Yeah), wrists so slush I'm too up, with two sl*ts (High) I'm too up, give two f**ks (High) Up the pump, b*t*h, what's up? (High) Windows up , geeked as f**k (High) Shoot my shot, I'm hot just like I'm Kobe (I'm hot, hot) n***as steady talking like they know me (Ooh woah, woah) Never did a damn thing that they told me (Ooh woah, woah) Oh wee, oh wee Taking sh*t back to my old days, yeah f**kin this paper, no foreplay, yeah I can't be caught out by no low stakes When my name in their mouth like it's Colgate, yeah I've been running this sh*t up with no brakes n***a, get in my way and it's road rage, yeah Poles give that n***a pole face, yeah Ghost give that n***a ghost face, yeah Touch down ATL, long flight straight out that jungle (Jungle) I walked outta customs and got to it, I don't play about that hustle You've got a bag, but this ain't bag, yeah, this is a duffle She got a ass, but she ain't that bad, she need to be humble (Humble, humble, yeah)
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