admit it

Jacob Kouri

Went behind my back can't admit it
This a full court press, no scrimmage
Shut the fuck up i'm not finished
We can't go back and forth, this ain't tennis
My bitch got the fye she a menace
Ran out of dope get replenished
My pockets they full of the uh

My pockets they full of the spinach and lettuce
You run up on me bitch you'll highly regret it
Bullets infest him
He cannot catch 'em
Pray to the lord hope that he bless him
Got a brand new check and immediately doubled it
I done fell in love wit another bitch
Yes, money my other bitch
Yes, my cup got some mud in it
For the fun of it, bitch I count up these racks for the fun of it
And I kicked the bitch out of my crib last night
You would think I'm a punter bitch
It's like 4th down baby
I was locked up I was 16 years old
I was spending my birthday in the courthouse baby
I try
I try to tell you what's wrong, but you never listen
So stuck in your ways uh huh, you can't even admit it
Went behind my back you can't admit it
But your new nigga lame so I'm not trippin'

Went behind my back can't admit it
This a full court press, no scrimmage
Shut the fuck up i'm not finished
We can't go back and forth, this ain't tennis
My bitch got the fye she a menace
Ran out of dope get replenished
My pockets they full of the uh

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A música “admit it” de Yaro foi composta por Jacob Kouri.

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