CORRECT LYRICS

Lyrics : Terry Crews

(Pre-Hook - Vic August)
Back to back I’m too consistent
Left these boys with true religion
Me I don’t do euphemisms
If I’m with the crew lifted
Said f*ck the pen I’m too sadistic
And I feel I’m more truthful with this - swag
Ringer on jet still my eye on the - bag
Going on bets still boy I’m on your - arse
f*cked a b*tch she was media trained I musta skipped a - class
Who put a purse on you

(Hook - Vic August)
Who let it work on you
Who did it first on you
Just pay your dues b*tch
Promise this ain’t dirt on your name or your shoes b*tch
Walk outside this room I might booked it you lose b*tch
Nowadays I f*ck off these drugs on masseuses
And I do a lot lot lot Terry Crews b*tch
And I f*ck a lot lot lot in my crew fit
Bwoy dem wanna talk talk talk I don’t do this
Boy you know you not this hot

(Verse 1 - Vic August)
Send it to me on rock
f*ck round blew the safe on a b*tch
I met once in the VIP
I won’t do this again
Who the f*ck can I kid
I put more on your bestie and leave with a kid
Pocket watching b*tches in the club
Form a line to where the bottles pop
Diamonds in the cup
And this b*tch on suicidal talk do you know where you are
Tryna knock me off my focus do you think I give a f*ck
I’ma f*ck a baby mama I feel savage
Thought I was doing something crazy but I had this
IG models in here playing who to catfish
Let her come up here I take off like Aladdin

(Pre-Hook - Vic August)
Back to back I’m too consistent
Left these boys with true religion
Me I don’t do euphemisms
If I’m with the crew lifted
Said f*ck the pen I’m too sadistic
And I feel I’m more truthful with this - swag
Ringer on jet still my eye on the - bag
Going on bets still boy I’m on your - arse
f*cked a b*tch she was media trained I musta skipped a - class
Who put a purse on you

(Hook - Vic August)
Who let it work on you
Who did it first on you
Just pay your dues b*tch
Promise this ain’t dirt on your name or your shoes b*tch
Walk outside this room I might booked it you lose b*tch
Nowadays I f*ck off these drugs on masseuses
And I do a lot lot lot Terry Crews b*tch
And I f*ck a lot lot lot in my crew fit
Bwoy dem wanna talk talk talk I don’t do this
Boy you know you not this hot

(Verse 2 - Zac Flewids)
I ain’t f*ck no white chick since last March
My agent come and scoop me in a million dollar car
Santa Monica to Calabasas like a dart
Sipping on the light when we meet up in the dark
Shawty give that head she been tryna get me smart
Cloudy with a chance of a broke-ass heart
In the soul plane got a cocaine cart
Sniff it til we bloody in the bodega
Pull up with the model and she rocked up in the sheets
Pray to the Madonna when she drop it to her knees
The lubrication tingle like we f*ckin through some bees
Pull up and nut in her raw, figure it out in the car
Get her the pill in the morn, did it a milly before
Pull up and nut in her raw, figure it out in the car
Get her the pill in the morn, did it a milly before

(Hook - Vic August)
Who let it work on you
Who did it first on you
Just pay your dues b*tch
Promise this ain’t dirt on your name or your shoes b*tch
Walk outside this room I might booked it you lose b*tch
Nowadays I f*ck off these drugs on masseuses
And I do a lot lot lot Terry Crews b*tch
And I f*ck a lot lot lot in my crew fit
Bwoy dem wanna talk talk talk I don’t do this
Boy you know you not this hot