LYRICS
Use A− / A+ to adjust text sizeFlick Of da Wrist
Baby Jesus, thoughYou already know itYou already know itAesthetic on the track, boyBaby JesusYou already know itShoutout to you if you listenin' to this'Specially if you a pretty little femaleAesthetic on the track, boySweet baby JesusCheck out the flick of my wristPull up in my whip with a bitch who don't ask me for shitYeah, that's how I like 'em, a bitch with a check more excitin'And she so conceited, she don't even speakTry my luck for a week, ask her friend was she dykin'She say more than likely, cool, 'cause I'm feelin' like BoosieJust got a fresh cut, I can see that she choosin'And I don't give a fuck, sleep on me and you're losin'Lay on my chest and I rub on your bootyLook me in my eyes and tell me I'm the cutestBut don't get it twistedI forgot to mention the pistol right next to me, bitch, I'm a shooterShit, ay, we gon' stay away from all that, though, that shit gettin' lame out here, let's goBitch, I'm from Charlotte, don't know how to actA lot of these artists don't know how to rapWatch me put on, set the tone for my cityI got your bitch out that thong on a WednesdayWe hit the diner right after the clubWhen she see me, act like nothing happened in publicForever our secret, I'll never discuss itHe got that iron, that boy swear he be clutchin'I look in his eyes, I can tell he won't bust itYou know most of these niggas be fake as a bitchNever told on a soul, can't relate to a snitchAnd therefore we are not the sameYour mama and daddy ought to be ashamedShould've used a rubber, gave birth to a lameI stick to the code, that's the way I was raisedPull up on 'em hoes rocking gold, switchin' lanesI'm sorry but I'm way too gifted for niggasPersistence, I'm way too consistent on niggasCity full of dogs, I'm the pick of the litterFuck the fame, the fame don't mean shit to me, niggaOne of my freaks woke me up out my sleep and start asking 'bout who I been fuckingI told her she wasn't my bitch so don't bother me, sorry, that matter's not up for discussionI got that cash on me like it's Monopoly, look at my pockets, nigga, them shits bustin'Nigga used to be my nigga but fuck himBaby Jesus can't break bread with a busterLove the way that she give head but don't trust herShe make me feel like I could walk on waterShe call me papi but she not my daughterShe fuck with Baby Jesus 'cause I'm not normalI was at South by Southwest down in TexasPerformin' walkin' through the crowd like a veteranAll thanks to Dinero, salute to my nigga, he gave me the platform, I had to deliverAt the last minute hopped on the plane with 2, 000 Cds, ended up on a stageSelling shows in three days, man fuck all that playin', they gon' know about JesusFuck a hater, go ask your ho about JesusBet she gon' keep it in the low about JesusBut I'll dap you like your ho not a cheaterI-85, . 45 and four pounds of reeferExceeding the speed limitIncreasing volume on my Runner speakersBumping that new Baby JesusMy vocab astonishing, manipulation of wordplay is dangerously lethalHow they gon' hang with Lil' Jesus?Fuck niggas talkin' 'bout)Look at the flick of my wristWoo, yeah (It don't matter though, I'ma go right around 'em)Look at the bitch that I'm wit'Baby Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, Jesus, hey (My nigga Slim try to keep that, what I just said, on it)(You should, I'm wit' all that shit)Fucked up (It's Dababy) , I done invested in myself (Fuck)Got the Yo in the crib, it's over(So Disrespectful the muhfuckin' mixtape)You already know it(If you a Dj and you not playin' my shit, you ought to be ashamed of yo' goddamn self)Jesus, Jesus, JesusYou already know it (Fuck is you thinkin' man?)
LETROU FEATURE
Stage Mode
Large text, automatic scrolling and fullscreen for singing or practice.
FIND ANOTHER SONG
Find a song
Search by title or artist.
SINGER CENTER
Open tools →Train your voice
Breathing, warm-ups, pitch and vocal range.