Opps
Mak11 and Hippy Junior
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I got in my bags, chips, Pringles All of my boys are dogs, dingos They like the way I talk, lingo We don't play no games, bingo Yeah we stay sour, pickle Take a dog off the leash, sick 'em They don't want smoke with me, listen I'm a city OG, Hippy They call me Hippy, I'm really a jerk I'm bout to blow up, that feeling is certain I put my work in, never slept on weekends I jumped in the deep end, I know what my worth is Bought out my car and I hearsed it Found a holy ghost inside of my purchase Seen me a shaman and found me a purpose Visiting witches and reaping my curses Keep my intelligence, writing in cursive Know that I'm blessed, ever since momma birthed me Parents are proud cause I'm putting that work in Haters are sad, rather see me go shirtless But what is the problem, I'm the boss and you're nervous? Come talk to Josh if you're lost and you're hurting I'm seeing things that are cutting em, surgery Pleasure to be bringing my best, urgently I got in my bags, chips, Pringles All of my boys are dogs, dingos They like the way I talk, lingo We don't play no games, bingo Yeah we stay sour, pickle Take a dog off the leash, sick 'em They don't want smoke with me, listen I'm a city OG, Hippy People who talking about me won't work with me Word to these people that sharing this Earth with me Heard he's so nice, he's not a jerk to me Junior shit right, turn quarter surfaces Doing it better, I'm free with the services Soul in my body, and Buddha in search of it Roll up and pray for more gas than what Urban has I have been working for mine I'm not grabbing ass Shit I just wasted all my competition I looked in the mirror and said what you thinking? There's no hate in myself like a victim I watched feds turn to opps when they started switching I remember upgrading my scale double digits The bag that we weigh up gon pay out ridiculous People be talking bout the life I'm living And I don't have nothing that I cannot get again I got in my bags, chips, Pringles All of my boys are dogs, dingos They like the way I talk, lingo We don't play no games, bingo Yeah we stay sour, pickle Take a dog off the leash, sick 'em They don't want smoke with me, listen I'm a city OG, Hippy I got the drip not a trickle Just want a watch up on my wrist can't be fickle Water on my shit gon hit, make a ripple I walk up in your crib the clique get you crippled Pink Kush get me tickled, magnificent I ain't busting up bricks but ain't innocent Put your trust in the kid I ain't sinister Brodie tried coming with bluffs and I blistered him, finished him Bitch I'm the shit, bet I'm winning this Yeah the zip me get lit and I'm feeling it When the stick outta clips I'm refilling it Tryna get me a whip from the dealership Rubber I'm peeling it, choppa on militant mode Might knock down your building won't walk in the door Need lots of them millions my pockets exploding Boy watch 'fore you spill it, your pot boiling over, aye I got in my bags, chips, Pringles All of my boys are dogs, dingos They like the way I talk, lingo We don't play no games, bingo Yeah we stay sour, pickle Take a dog off the leash, sick 'em They don't want smoke with me, listen I'm a city OG, Hippy
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Written by: Andrew McDonald, Joshua Roberts
Lyrics © DistroKid
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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"Opps Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 31 May 2024. <https://www.lyrics.com/lyric-lf/6737190/Mak11+and+Hippy+Junior/Opps>.
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