CROWD CONTROL

[Chorus]

(oh, ahh)
Crowd Control
(oh, ahh)
Im out control
(ah, ah)
She pop pop pop (pop pop)
Like Al Capone
She bus it down to her toes
Coca Cola thru her nose
Takin trips she ride my flows
I get her wet she got some hoes
(Yeah, yeah)
Watch the watch (ah, yeah)
That shit tick tock (ah)
My bitch don’t talk (ah)
Yeah my bitch don’t talk

[VERSE 1]

Paper planes with Gucci print
I spot her thru Louis tints
Cross the club like who is this (who's that?)
Don’t do names
That's my new bitch (bitch, bitch)
My new bitch
Hit or miss (miss, miss)
I don’t miss
Aye she trust fund drop the top
PCH she give me top
Call her dealer he come thru (aye)
I think you know what we gone do
We stay up until the sun
Livin' fast cause good die young
No white lighters I go dumb
Too much life can’t join the club

[Chorus]

(oh, ahh)
Crowd Control
(oh, ahh)
Im out control
(ah, ah)
She pop pop pop (pop pop)
Like Al Capone
She bus it down to her toes
Coca Cola thru her nose
Takin trips she ride my flows
I get her wet she got some hoes
(Yeah, yeah)
Watch the watch (ah, yeah)
That shit tick tock (ah)
My bitch don’t talk (ah)
Yeah my bitch don’t talk

[VERSE 2]

She booed up
But I don't care
Run my hands all thru her hair
Pretty blondes with skin so fair
On IG with lots of likes
Yeah that’s a yikes (ay)
Yeah I hit it twice (ay)
Yeah I go all night (ay)
Yeah I go all night
She insecure but she still bad
She’s a freak she call me dad
Taught me up but I ain't mad
I don't cuff I’m not her man (aye)
I’m not her man (ah)
Late night Letterman
Then cross the hall and kiss her mom make the daughter mad

[Chorus]

(oh, ahh)
Crowd Control
(oh, ahh)
Im out control
(ah, ah)
She pop pop pop (pop pop)
Like Al Capone
She bus it down to her toes
Coca Cola thru her nose
Takin trips she ride my flows
I get her wet she got some hoes
(Yeah, yeah)
Watch the watch (ah, yeah)
That shit tick tock (ah)
My bitch don’t talk (ah)
Yeah my bitch don’t talk

[VERSE 3]

Watch on tiger tooth
You can’t do what I can do (uh)
Let her thru
Yeah she's cool but think she need a better dude
In the booth
Killing beats I got a license to
She ride the wave (yah, uh)
Finer taste (ah, ah)
Daddy’s rich designer thangs
Diamonds laced inside her braids
I sit back she give me brain
I just let her do her thang