Matte Black

[Chorus]
Yeah, yeah, yeah
In the backseat counting them racks
I'ma die with my gang, that's a fact
How you die with that strap on your lap?
Whip matte black, stick matte black
My bitch keep asking me am I gothic
You know the fits be all black (JJ Turn Me Up)
Yeah, yeah, yeah
In the backseat counting them racks
I'ma die with my gang, that's a fact
How you die with that strap on your lap?
Whip matte black, stick matte black
My bitch keep asking me am I gothic
You know the fits be all black

[Refrain]
Yeah, I do not want you, lil' girl, I swear I don't want that bitch
Told her to carry the Glock, she won't stop grabbing the stick
She think I'm tryna fuck, I really want her to just lick
Yeah, the hundreds, they piling up, got so many blues like a Crip

[Verse]
In a shootout, you know we not missing
I got water, ain't talking no dishes
Diamonds, they glisten, they liquid, let's get it
These niggas, they tucking they chain, they some bitches
I walk up inside of the club and get litty
Models, they with me, bottles, they with me
Been here for a hour, I rolled up an ounce
My bitch stuff her face with that Bobby, no Whitney
We stand on the table, we stand on the couch
Nigga talk shit, then we stomping him out
Fuck all that talking about?
My niggas shoot through the crowd
My niggas really some menaces
Guilty, but we pleading innocent
Just dropped a bag to my lawyer (Bling)
Beating that case like I'm Zimmerman
Yeah, I get them bands in a drought
Yeah, bitch tryna dance, but my stick hanging out
Yeah, she tryna talk, but my dick in her mouth
Yeah, I fucked that bitch, then I'm kicking her

[Refrain]
Yeah, I do not want you, lil' girl, I swear I don't want that bitch
Told her to carry the Glock, she won't stop grabbing the stick
She think I'm tryna fuck, I really want her to just lick
Yeah, the hundreds, they piling up, got so many blues like a Crip
Yeah, I do not want you, lil' girl, I swear I don't want that bitch
Told her to carry the Glock, she won't stop grabbing the stick
She think I'm tryna fuck, I really want her to just lick
Yeah, the hundreds, they piling up, got so many blues like a Crip

[Chorus]
Yeah, yeah, yeah
In the backseat counting them racks
I'ma die with my gang, that's a fact
How you die with that strap on your lap?
Whip matte black, stick matte black
My bitch keep asking me am I gothic
You know the fits be all black
You know the fits be all black