Walk (feat. Yung Goth)

Walk, walk, walk, walk, walk
Walk, walk, walk, walk, walk
Walk, walk, walk, walk, walk
Talk, walk, walk, talk
Walk, walk, walk, walk, walk
Talk, talk, walk, talk, walk, talk, walk, walk, walk, talk, talk, talk, talk, walk, walk, walk, walk, walk

I got lots of drug dealers
I be gettin in my feelings
I got problems with the women
Tell them hoes I ain't perfect

I don't really know how to live in the street
I be dyin everyday tryna keep it all discrete
Fucking up my life, I don't really give a shit
Poppin' pills in my room, I can count on counterfeit
I don't really give a fuck about the lies in my room
I don't really give a fuck about no body in the room
I'll shoot 'em down anyway, bitches can't consume
All this swag up in my pocket
Cuz you know you lose your cool

Free drugs
Free drugs
Free drugs
Free drugs
Free drugs
Free drugs
Free drugs
Free drugs

When I pull up with your bitch
Don't give a fuck if you're rich
Don't give a fuck bitch I'm lit
Diggin my dick in her ribs
Kissin her clit with my lips
I kill the pussy no shit
I kill the pussy and dip
Skeet skeet with the jets
Beat up, beat up on the pussy
Homie what the fuck you lookin
I got your bitch and she cookin
Suckin my dick like a rookie
Derek jeter I'm a rookie
Tell em we makin a movie
I'm finna buss on her boobies
Drugs on me I'm a junkie

Walk, walk, walk, walk, walk
Walk, walk, walk, walk, walk
Walk, walk, walk, walk, walk
Talk, walk, walk, talk
Walk, walk, walk, walk, walk
Talk, talk, walk, talk, walk, talk, walk, walk, walk, talk, talk, talk, talk, walk, walk, walk, walk, walk