lirik lagu damedot – too many grams
[intro]
sh~t
[chorus: damedot]
yeah, plug just sent too many grams
this sh~t pure, it ain’t touch too many hands
she got too much booty in the pants
bad b~tch asked me if she can get a chance (d~mn)
nah, i ain’t into romance (i ain’t into that)
b~tch, we could f~ck or we could count these bands
white gucci hoodie on, ku klux klan
how you backstab me and you my mans?
[post~chorus: young will]
this b~tch ain’t bad, i need two of her friends (nah)
the ho ain’t sh~t, she’ll f~ck for seafood
boy, you in a room at the holiday inn (haha)
we got ars, pistols, and chops
whenever we ride, that’s held up behind tint (brrt, brrt, brrt)
got a n~gga mad, probably f~cked his b~tch
n~gga, if you ain’t talkin’, how you gettin’ out quick?
n~ggas broke, chillin’, sittin’ in the house sick
[verse 1: young will]
big ten~milli’ on my hip make me walk with a limp
it ain’t no murder if you squeezin’ the triggеr
[?][0:32] they call it attempts
n~gga, i’m a boss to your b~tch, you a shrimp
i f~ck whenеver i please, i pay her to leave
lil’ n~gga, i’m somethin’ like a pimp
he tried to diss me for clout
i’m playin’ like i never seen him, but i’m sendin’ hits
[verse 2: damedot]
i’m over the stove, i ain’t cookin’ grits
my b~tch a homebody, she ain’t ever in the mix
i was sleep off the drank, she was tryna take a pic
i’m a quarterback, i ain’t tryna get blitzed
in the kitchen with a mask on my face like i’m rip
he ain’t no dancer, we gon’ make a n~gga strip
nah, i ain’t no thief, but i’ll steal a n~gga b~tch
[verse 3: young will]
then send her ass home ’cause her head ain’t sh~t
my n~gga wanna shoot, he don’t wanna take a pic
how many bands can i stuff in the vent?
n~ggas be chasin’ these hoes, they feelings get hurt
he got k!lled for thinkin’ with his d~ck
my n~ggas lay in your grass and get on your ass
it’ll be over before you can snitch
on the dark web tryna search up a brick
n~ggas try to steal all the sauce then switch
that b~tch too basic, bro, i couldn’t even hit
i’m bored as h~ll inside of the crib
turn on alexa to play all my sh~t
he was so gangster, now he in a blunt
since he so loud, we gon’ turn him to runtz
i f~cked that b~tch and i went on the run
she keep on callin’, ain’t seen me in months
[chorus: damedot]
yeah, plug just sent too many grams
this sh~t pure, it ain’t touch too many hands
she got too much booty in the pants
bad b~tch asked me if she can get a chance (d~mn)
nah, i ain’t into romance (i ain’t into that)
b~tch, we could f~ck or we could count these bands
white gucci hoodie on, ku klux klan
how you backstab me and you my mans?
[post~chorus: young will]
this b~tch ain’t bad, i need two of her friends
the ho ain’t sh~t, she’ll f~ck for seafood
boy, you in a room at the holiday inn (haha)
we got ars, pistols, and chops
whenever we ride, that’s held up behind tint
got a n~gga mad, probably f~cked his b~tch
n~gga, if you ain’t talkin’, how you gettin’ out quick?
n~ggas broke, chillin’, sittin’ in the house, sick
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