Lil Tracy, Yung Bans and Marvy Ayy - Joseph & Mary

Yeah, yeah, like that
Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy
(M-M-Marvy) (Ayy)

Okay, she suck on dick like she wanna get married (she wanna get married)
But I'm not fucking that bitch, we like Joseph and Mary (Joseph and Mary)
Too many racks, this shit getting scary, hold on (shit getting scary)
I don't not rap, so please don't compare me
To these niggas that want clout more than they want the bag
I'm finna move out of my house into another pad
These niggas still sleeping on couches, what the fuck is that? (What the fuck is that?)
Feel like Future, walkin' 'round in Gucci bucket hats

I woke up this morning, I look in the mirror I'm glad to be me
Then I run up my racks for whole fucking day then I go back to sleep
Boy you fake as your diamonds, you fake as a btich, boy you need to decease
Yes I'm fly as a pilot, my diamonds legit and they wet like a sea (let's go, let's go, okay)
I'm with Bans in this bitch, we got freaky hoes (we got freaky hoes)
I like when the pussy be tight like a cheerio (like a cheerio, woo)
I like rocking expensive materials (materials)
She put the drugs on her tongue, I'm like, "Here we go"
I know they mad that I'm happy
I was fucking your bitch, you was playing a game, I can see how that made you unhappy
No kids, but she calling me daddy
Why you keep talking down about me, I'ma put your ass right in a caddy

Okay, she suck on dick like she wanna get married (she wanna get married)
But I'm not fucking that bitch, we like Joseph and Mary (Joseph and Mary)
Too many racks, this shit getting scary, hold on (shit getting scary)
I don't not rap, so please don't compare me
To these niggas that want clout more than they want the bag
I'm finna move out of my house into another pad
These niggas still sleeping on couches, what the fuck is that? (What the fuck is that?)
Feel like Future, walkin' 'round in Gucci bucket hats

Money on money, hundreds on hundreds, whoa
I ride around with that cutter
How you gon' fuck on my brother?
Then you gon' tell me you love me
Young nigga straight out the slum
Ain't have no food in my tummy
Hundred racks in the Goyard
Niggas sweet, don't want no war
Just a young nigga, I get to the money, I break the bank
Say you robbed me, that shit there cap, that shit no way
Hit from the back, I pull out, bust all on her lace
These niggas broke as fuck, I see it in they face
They know how I come, I'm so one of one
Me and Tracy like blood, we got millions
We straight out the slums, get flyer than doves
Good girls like nuns, I shoot up the club

Okay, she suck on dick like she wanna get married (she wanna get married)
But I'm not fucking that bitch, we like Joseph and Mary (Joseph and Mary)
Too many racks, this shit getting scary, hold on (shit getting scary)
I don't not rap, so please don't compare me
To these niggas that want clout more than they want the bag
I'm finna move out of my house into another pad
These niggas still sleeping on couches, what the fuck is that? (What the fuck is that?)
Feel like Future, walkin' 'round in Gucci bucket hats

Written by:
Jazz Ishmael Butler, Vas Coleman

Publisher:
Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.

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