MMY

ian (Trap)

Compositor: Ian Smith

Momma told me: Anything you gon' do, you can do this
Put yo' head down, you got just what it takes so keep it moving
You come 'round on that hot shit, I'm begging you to prove it
You come 'round with yo' chopstick, I'm begging you to shoot it
Walked in—
Walked in with that strap on my body, Miss America

You been talking in them raps, so come get hot, boy, I dare ya
We come running through yo' house
Swinging chops with big bandanas
You keep runnin' that fuckin' mouth, I'll fix it up with my hammer
Or I'm gon' find yo' fucking block, stick it up, this a standoff
Bitch, I'm smoking on exotic, sticky stuff, wipe my hands off

Once we find 'em we gon' have to wet 'em up, that's a man down
I'm in Saks Fifth spending hella bucks, bring my bands out
Went his front door, kick it, don't give no fucks
You not safe in here

I loved that bitch, but she didn't want to see me up, I'ma make it there
You step on bro, I sent yo' ass to hell, boy, I'll take you there
I'm smoking on some shit that really smell, damn, it stank in here
I mix Issey Miyake denim with the MMY
Throw a couple bullets at his man, know we gon' send him flyin'
Going on a move, I've been around, know I'm gon' send my guys