Like This Lyrics – G Herbo
Singer: G Herbo
Title: Like This
A 100 Million what I’m tryna get
Anythin’ to get this paper, b#tch, I’m tryin’ it
Ain’t nobody gonna play with me, n#gg# reach I’m firin’ it (Bah)
Know your enemy, go, go lil’ n#gg#, mmm mmm, I’m dyin’ with it (Yeah)
You ain’t got gwop like this
You ain’t got cash like this (Yeah)
You ain’t got gwop like this
Suck my dick, b#tch, ashy lips (Yeah)
You ain’t got gwop like this
You ain’t got cash like this (Yeah)
You ain’t got gwop like this (Yeah)
You ain’t got cash like this (Yeah)
Smokin’ exotic, I’m high as sh#t
I’ll die if I don’t keep this b#tch on my hip
Hopefully I don’t shoot this b#tch off the rip
Ain’t like you rappers with all that lip
Canary my diamonds, they wedges like lemon
Ocean my neck in this sh#t like Pacific
I like my b#tches with fat #ss and t#tt#es
No, no, no, Lil Uzi, not too specific
Ain’t like you bappers, we real Kobe cappers
You n#gg#s be actors and not even factors
Double the racks and then back in the back seat
That shoot like a raptor, a rapper attacked me
DM that hoe, but she still in my mentions
b#tches be talkin’, these hoes they be snitchin’
n#gg#s be talkin’, these n#gg#s be snitchin’
Had a glock on my waist and I had to click quickly
A 100 Million what I’m tryna get
Anythin’ to get this paper, b#tch, I’m tryin’ it
Ain’t nobody gonna play with me, n#gg# reach I’m firin’ it (Bah)
Know your enemy, go, go lil’ n#gg#, mmm mmm, I’m dyin’ with it (Let’s go)
You ain’t got gwop like this
You ain’t got cash like this (Yeah)
You ain’t got gwop like this
You ain’t got cash like this (Yeah)
You ain’t got gwop like this (Let’s go)
You ain’t got cash like this (Yeah)
You ain’t got gwop like this (Yeah)
You ain’t got cash like this (Uh)
Canary my diamonds, they wedges like lemon
Ocean my neck in this sh#t like Pacific
I like my b#tches with fat #ss and t#tt#es
No, no, no, Lil Uzi, not too specific
DM that hoe, but she still in my mentions
b#tches be talkin’, these hoes they be snitchin’
n#gg#s be talkin’, these n#gg#s be snitchin’
Had a glock on my waist and I had to click quickly
I went to every jeweler in this sh#t, told all of them better not tax me
And I got two bribs in LA right now, ’cause that’s where the packs be
You don’t know you in the Raq, runnin’ sh#t, you don’t know us
Empty the clip off a hip, pour a four up
On the b#llsh#t on the block like Noah
Give me the beef well done like Boa, b#tch
So if a n#gg# can see when I’m shootin’
I pop out with your b#tch, I had to recruit it
Okay, she know I f#ck with all her friends
But she don’t say nothin’, she scared to lose me
I f#ck them lil’ b#tches right to my music
Pull out my dick then she start flutin’
(Whoa) She said she don’t f#ck with n#gg#s
(What?) So she still shoppin’ at Gucci (Let’s go)
And before rappers wasn’t lying on IG
Actually been here sauce like Zaxby’s (Aye uh)
Build my wave like Max B, I’m in New York free Max B
I be in New York like a taxi
Riding in the Lambo truck, finna pull a lil’ swerve, car seat in the backseat
Your b#tch she attracted to money, yeah, that’s why she f#ckin’ (Yeah)
My n#gg#s attracted to shootin’, that’s why they keep bussin’ (Whoa)
I’m with the gang for life, you know that I’m stuck in it (Yeah)
You know they gon’ up that price, you know they ain’t touchin’ sh#t
n#gg#s gettin’ rich, if it’s smoke we ain’t duckin’ it
I’m in Chiraq when I rhyme with a 100 clips
Richard Mill’ plain cost a hundred clip
Pushin’ a Rolls with the Maybach, my brother whip
Hit that boy first, know he hear me, I’m comin’ quick
f#ck all this rappin’, we ain’t with this sucka sh#t
Hundred clip, pull out a window and dump at you
We back in Friendsville comfortable (Let’s go)
You ain’t got gwop like this
You ain’t got cash like this (Yeah)
You ain’t got gwop like this, yeah
You ain’t got cash like this (Yeah)
You ain’t got gwop like this (Let’s go)
You ain’t got cash like this (Yeah)
You ain’t got gwop like this (Yeah)
You ain’t got cash like this (Yeah)
b#tch, I’m havin’ sh#t, I wear a whip on my wrist
Real killers ridin’ with straps
Can respond in rap, I don’t trip on a diss
When we print out the physicals, cop my disc
Chill out, hop off my dick
Yeah, it’s me and Vert, skrrt
Big 40 in Burts, you get mirked, jerk
Brand new Richard Millie, yeah
Hop a stack through this, yeah
Brand new Lambo runnin’ through lights
Like I’m at the track in that b#tch (Vrrm)
Brand new red Rarri (Uh), ain’t no traction in it(Yeah)
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Lyrics G Herbo – Like This
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