Ready to Eat

[Chorus]
My nigga gon' ride for me
Put on they swimming trunks, slide for me
Bitch, we ain't worried 'bout beef
My shooters fat and they ready to eat
Lean back in the seat, she spaghetti the D
These niggas ain't shooters, they tellin' on me
Aim at your bell, taco filling the scene
I'm pulling my pants up, I'm ready to swing (Ready to swing, ready to swing)

[Verse 1]
I'm ready to swing on a bitch
If it go left, up the thing on a bitch
She in love with these balls, put a ring on a bitch
Iced-out nipple piercings, I put that bling on her tits, nigga
These choppers real, no orange tips, nigga
Every month, I go six-figures
We need more straps, bitch, we getting richer
We real killers, never artificial
Step back and pop like I'm Harden (Harden)
She see the print in the joggers (Joggers)
Thirty-two shots in the joggers (Joggers)
These bitches look good on TV, but they fooling like it's McDonalds (Like it's McDonalds)
We play with them just like pianos
On the weed farm with Old MacDonald (Donald)

[Chorus]
My nigga gon' ride for me
Put on they swimming trunks, slide for me
Bitch, we ain't worried 'bout beef
My shooters fat and they ready to eat
Lean back in the seat, she spaghetti the D
These niggas ain't shooters, they tellin' on me
Aim at your bell, tacos filling the scene

[Verse 2]
I flooded my pockets with parmesan cheese
Tats on his face, he tryna look throwed
Behind those tattoos, I know he a ho
Pull up with that .40, my shit getting old
If I tell him don't move, that boy striking that pose
2016, we striking for clothes
Flathead in my pocket, we striking for poles
You loving these bitches, you mad 'bout some hoes
Nigga trying to get some holes 'bout some hoes
Nigga trying to get some smoke by the throat
I was born when a squid fucked a G.O.A.T
When it's wintertime, we put sticks in our coats (Sticks in our coats, yeah)

[Chorus]
My nigga gon' ride for me
Put on they swimming trunks, slide for me
Bitch, we ain't worried 'bout beef
My shooters fat and they ready to eat
Lean back in the seat, she spaghetti the D
These niggas ain't shooters, they tellin' on me
Aim at your bell, tacos filling the scene
I'm pulling my pants up, I'm ready to swing (Ready to swing, ready to swing)