CupcakKe - Lawd Jesus

Ay, when I walk in a room
All the niggas lookin' at me like, "What is my income?"
Not droppin' no brooms, that nigga get stood up
Like how the broom challenge just went down
Don't wanna assume but bitches really broke
And I don't know where y'all get rent from
And I'ma just spit in your face
If you walk up to me asking me can I spend some

'Cause I do not talk if it ain't about money
I look at your mouth like you ramblin'
I got merchants On God
I just lost 700K off of nothin' but gamblin'
I was sick and got fried but I had to fight all my demons
That shit was real challengin'
So now when I walk around people with money
I stand and shut up like a mannequin (shh)
So I can just soak up they info
Now my bank copy that, that's ten fold
I don't go wherever the wind blow
'Cause if my wig fall off, that's the end ho
But lucky I'm paid, edges stay laid like prostitutes on a Friday night
While you suckin' his thing, I'm outside pullin' strings
Like a bitch flyin' kites

And no I don't rock mics
Red bottoms with the spikes
Tinted windows, out of sight
No cash, just swipe
Cashier like, "Yikes" she's black, not white
When I hop off my flight, Naomi Campbell with the wipes, ay
Save his number under "typo"
'Cause that nigga wasn't my type
It's nothin' to talk to these niggas like shit
But I'd rather not do that today
'Cause niggas be trippin'
I'd rather just tell a nigga, "Tie your fuckin' shoelace"
And niggas is bitches
I'd rather just give they ass a motherfuckin' bouquet
And I'm really birthing bitches
When they drop an album and that's my due date, ay

Bitch I'm eating good, double chin
Black card match the skin
Fuck all my old friends, I'm not tryna make amends
Lawd, Jesus
I said "Mama chill, we gon' win"
Money keep comin' in
I'm tryna change from back then
But every time I hit a skid
Lawd, Jesus

I'm on some positive vibes
But every time niggas testin' my patience
Only could wait for so long, before I do you wrong
'Cause I'm not a waitress (on God)
Every December 31st
I go in the new year with no type of hatred (at all)
Then back January 3rd, the neighbors heard
"Whoop That Trick" on my playlist
Man these dirty bitches don't do the dishes
Then tell a nigga, "Come eat the butt" (How?)
And wake up with crust in they ass a
And that shit thicker then Pizza Hut
But I'm off it, they coughin'
Yeah I know how to market, no Boston
Tell a nigga don't talk it, just walk it
Pop a nigga like drums way too often (brrah)

Bitch I'm eating good, double chin
Black card match the skin
Fuck all my old friends, I'm not tryna make amends
Lawd, Jesus
I said "Mama chill, we gon' win"
Money keep comin' in
I'm tryna change from back then
But every time I hit a skid
Lawd, Jesus

Written by:
Elizabeth Harris

Publisher:
Lyrics © TUNECORE INC, TuneCore Inc., Hipgnosis Songs Group

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