Could've Bought lyrics

[Intro]

Kid Wond3r, you made this beat? Damn

Aye, No Hooks Part 2 in this bitch, you know how I'm rockin', nigga

Get your guns up, get your funds up

You on that opp shit, get mop sticked, bitch

Salad gang, catch a body gang

Aye

[Verse]

I could've bought a Bentley, but instead I bought a cuban link

Told my jeweler fill it up with ice like a skating rink

Red bottoms cost $1500, bitch, I'm stunting

And I'm feeling my Gucci cleats, watch me punt it

Could've bought a mansion, but instead I bought a drop top

If she ain't tryna fuck, I kick her out and make her toe pop

I'm standing at the stove, I'm whippin', tryna make this dope lock

My new car European, but I can turn into robot

We ridin', lookin' for the opps and duckin' the cops

Ridin' dirty, Glizzy Glocks with multiple shots

I pulled up to the parking lot, convertible drop

And then I leave the strip club with multiple thots

I buy the bar, drown the hoes with multiple shots

I'm gettin' dough, these niggas broke

That's all that you got?

She hit the thrax, damn near had a real asthma attack

We hit the club, VIP, we in back of the back

I heard this nigga talking smack, get hit with that MAC

I fucked that bitch from the back, then I'm givin' her back

We turn your homie into a pack, ain't no bringin' him back

These Gucci sneakers cost a stack, didn't mention the tax

Why these niggas envy? Bitches ,I fuck plenty

Riding hemi, and I got my semi

Rollin' hard, I think I popped too many

I keep killers with me, G Unit, my MAC clip hold a 50

Riding S550's, high speed, tell the police get up with me

I remember trappin' out abandoned apartments

Do a hit then I reload my cartridge

Smokin' stank, smell like somebody farted

Kickin' bitches out this Aston Martin

These choppers poppin' like we fryin' bacon

Smokin' reefer like a young Jamaican

I done got your blood on my Margiela Masons

These bullets hit you, split you, leave you shakin'

I brought my sack up in the club, let's get it crackin'

We don't need security, we pistol packin'

Left that boy up on the curb 'cause he was lackin'

If a nigga want a verse, you know I'm taxin'

Pussy boy you actin', you ain't 'bout that action

We catch you in traffic with them ratchets

And turn up our savage, we gon' let you have it

Check out my chain it cost me some change, dare you try to snatch it

The bullet holes so big, I put in your body, doctors couldn't patch it

Bitch, I'm laughin' to the bank, I got the biggest smirk

Sorry if I fucked your friend, baby, I'm the biggest flirt

RIP, we gon' put your face on a college shirt

Step to me, nigga, you must want to get your feelings hurt

Who you be, nigga? YSN, that 290 shit

Do you see niggas? Hell nah, I'm on my zombie shit

Boy if you don't duck, you fucked

Knock your head off your shoulders

I told her to suck and she did what I told her

You think we playin', hop up out that van, we might spray your mans

Choppa run, should've pulled up his pants, he didn't stand a chance

Jewelry skatin' like my chain wear Vans, watch my diamonds dance

If you want beef, we gon' put that shit in a fryin' pan

Baby, I got bands up in my Trues, Christian Loubs

Bitch, I spend 2 bands for these nice shoes, breaking rules

Bitch, I was the man up in high school

Starting selling dope, I didn't stand a chance up in high school

We kick your door, bitch get on the floor

Nigga, where that dough? If you know

Better let me know, or else I'ma blow

The opps ain't on shit, they some hoes, go look at the score

We been trappin' that snow, sellin' blow by the corner store

Gang

[Outro]

Gang, gang, gang

• Artist:Lud Foe
• Album:No Hooks 2 (2017)