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lirik lagu casper tng - truss me (help me remix)

[intro]
help me
mm, mm, mm, mm, mm
help me, ah
mm, mm, mm, mm
help me
help me, ah
uh
riddle (riddle)
you know the vibes man, and you f~ckin’ playin’ that, man (brr)
i don’t worry ’bout none of these n~ggas, man
i don’t worry ’bout nothing, man (tss)
wrist bussin’, neck bussin’, n~gga
givenchy bag, i filled it up with money, n~gga ([?])
yeah, uh

[verse 1]
givenchy bag and i filled it up with money (i filled it up with money)
i don’t gotta ask, b~tch, i know you wanna f~ck me
see your gun, it’s rusty, don’t want your b~tch, she dusty (she dusty)
and i’m snaked out, i don’t think that you should trust me (tss)
i’m tryna shoot it out with anyone of y’all (grr, grr)
i used to go and spend my whole re~up at the mall (i did)
and now i blow a bag and f~ck your b~tch inside the stall (i do)
i’m mr. riddle back again, he the one that always called (riddle)
she want some d~ck, i might go give it to her
he talkin’ crazy on his snap, i might go get my ruler
with all my chains on me, man, i just feel like rick the ruler (bling)
i ask them, “who the f~ck is jeweller?” this a pure bermuda (huh?)
the~these my momma’s friends, they tryna f~ck, not into cougars (on god)
and i don’t care ’bout nothin’ he said, it’s only on computers (b~tch)
and when i’m on my block, they in their house, my gang, we mute ’em (b~tch)
and i won’t lie, i don’t care ’bout where you from, i’m tryna shoot ’em (b~tch)
[chorus]
gettin’ money like, “what the f~ck?” (huh?)
they remember i was broke, i went and got it out the mud (get out the mud)
i went, hopped on a plane and bought a phone and made it jump (made it jump)
every time i’m in my city, “gucci gang” like lil pump (trap)

[verse 2]
uh, i been f~ckin’ up her hair when i hit it from the back
i just went ot and back (and back), she just had a rack attack (uh~huh)
she ain’t never see no money till she met me, that’s a fact (that’s true)
all these vvs, how they dance (they bling), i bet she gon’ let me slap
why i’m quiet on the ground? ’cause i’ve been bleachin’ in the trap (trap)
i don’t got no time for that (trap), i’m too busy flippin’ packs
all designer in my closet, i go out, i mix and match (lot of work)
get your b~tch, hit from the back (yeah), it’s okay, i give her back

[chorus]
gettin’ money like, “what the f~ck?” (like, “what the f~ck?”)
they remember i was broke, i went and got it out the mud (get out the mud)
i went, hopped on a plane and bought a phone and made it jump (trap)
every time i’m in my city, “gucci gang” like lil pump (trap, uh)

[outro]
help me
help me, ah

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