Mailbox lyrics

No I can't come down, b*tch I'm too turnt up

Judge gon give me life, Foreign door Murders

Sitting at a red light, pourin' this purp up

See this LV on my boxers, Why I'm lifting my shirt up

Cops try to search us, hoes tryna twerk us

Walk in with all this ice, Did it on purpose

Got spikes like red hot, need to keep ya tail (.....)

Have folks nem deliver this to you, put it in ya mailbox

Niggas be really knowin', b*tches be really goin

Look up and the ceiling gone, that a** I'm feelin' on

Need a Christina Milian, I could pop me a wheelie on

Bout to go get some more chains

Like I ain't got enough jewelry on

Went to the trap last night, and I looked up it was dawn

Got a U-Haul backing in, with equipment & more laundry

You know we ain't really for none, All I know is get paper

I know killas and they owe me big favors, B*tches XO me like Weeknd

I'm somewhere out eating, stay yo a** in 2 feet

Or go yo a** on the deep end, someone hand me a ashtray

That's my boys who passed away, keep my mouth laminated

Till the day I'm eliminated

No I can't come down, b*tch I'm too turnt up

Judge gon give me life, Foreign door Murders

Sitting at a red light, pourin' this purp up

See this LV on my boxers, Why I'm lifting my shirt up

Cops try to search us, hoes tryna twerk us

Walk in with all this ice, Did it on purpose

Got spikes like red hot, need to keep ya tail (.....)

Have folks nem deliver this to you, put it in ya mailbox

What's yo address nigga? Where you live at nigga?

We ain't tryna hear that nigga, you know I'm a real a** nigga

Know I gotta get cash nigga, You know I want it real bad nigga

My young niggas run down on you, treat you like a lil a** nigga

B*tches see the ice, they see the cars, they see the Benz they in the mood

They get in, into the spot, that's where the cars gon' take us to

I need top, I told them b*tches that like it was breaking news

And you know I be about my chicken, b*tch no Ramen noodles

Jail cell not even bigger than my pantry

We can't leave no trace I guess them gloves come in handy

It's lovely now, b*tches be loving me now aye, had the b*tch suckin me up

She might end up shutting me down aye

No I can't come down, b*tch I'm too turnt up

Judge gon give me life, Foreign door Murders

Sitting at a red light, pourin' this purp up

See this LV on my boxers, Why I'm lifting my shirt up

Cops try to search us, hoes tryna twerk us

Walk in with all this ice, Did it on purpose

Got spikes like red hot, need to keep ya tail (.....)

Have folks nem deliver this to you, put it in ya mailbox

• Artist:Chief Keef