Songtext Blac soda (freestyle) Smino

Blac soda (freestyle)

Bitch, twist up a eighth. I am zap zap
I still got a weed man, don't use no weedmaps
I said
I quit fuckin' your hoe, I'm 'bout to relapse
Twenty bitches in the back, that's where we at
Sleepy off the brown, in my dungeon and I'm cryin'
While I cry she got a muhfuckin' onion
And I'm always on my toes, like a muhfuckin' bunion
Baby we been through these hoes, been through her like a bundle, uh
I like my bitches wet and wavy, freaky
Long ass tongue like Kakey, tweaky
Said she'd do it better on her knees, call her knee-knee
Internet bitch, she a bird, she Tweety
I had to see it, see it for myself
Be a, Be a shame if that lil' jawn got left
Chain in my ring, strawberry but ain't no shortcake
I don't know when I'll be back, lil' bih go check the tour dates

Bitch, twist up a eighth. I am zap zap
Hmm, what the blunt say?
Seven-eleven, crap
She say she wanna kick it with me, Imma punt that
Hmm, coochie juicy, I attack her, I punch that, hmm
Lil' bitch, roll the fuck up (Gotta roll your own shit)
You ain't put on shit, roll the fuck up (The fuck you thought this shit was 'bout to be?)
Lil' bitch, roll the fuck up
You ain't put on shit, roll the fuck up, ayy

Think shit just gon' be sweet, huh?
For real though
Sick and tired of these muhfuckers coming 'round me tryna smoke all my good shit up, man
(I'm tired of these people)
Smoke yours, nigga
Feel me?
Straight up
Shit nigga anyway, niggas be needing to be smokin' they own shit anyway
Don't pass me shit and don't ask me shit, you dig?

Hey yo what's crackin'? It's your boy Buddy givin' a shout out to Smino, grigio, in this motherfucka

Yeah
Right
Ooh-woo
Yeah, yeah, yeah

Just re-up my product, product (Uh)
Bought lil' baby some brand new Prada (Yeah)
South St. Louis, she my momma
Surprise with sugar, she was just tryna flex the
Flat-out, one on one with the bitch like dollar
Cup dark like Mahershala
Lotta you wanna love
Drinkin' 1-800, hope my baby make my hotline bling (Bling)
Always 1-800, make you wanna blocka-blocka (Damn)
Drinkin' 1-800, hope my baby make my hotline bling (Bling)
Always 1-800, make you wanna blocka-blocka (Damn)
Drinkin' 1-800, hope my baby make my hotline bling (Bling)
Always 1-800, make you wanna blocka-blocka

Brand new watch, Barack-a, presidential
Perriwinkle purple in my Fanta, Fanta
Damn, too much Fanta, lil' Bari said too much Fanta (Uh)
I don't beef on carne asada (Nah)
I don't beat that corn on the cob up (Nah)
Dick like a pistol, never a problem
She callin' me-me-me, big poppa
Came from the Northside, diamond upped water, woo
So, you learn, the game's a game (Yeah)
Yeah, fame is fame (Yeah), bitch, you're lame, you're lame (Yeah)
Took your bitch to beat the chain
Quick to drip like P.F. Fly, shit
She ate up pistachio-oh-oh-oh-oh

Ay nigga, I was just playing my momma the album
She already decided you, you her new favorite rapper, crazy
Them folks from HBO just hit me too
They wanna use some of that new music
I told 'em, "Cut that motherfuckin' juicy"