Dee Watkins - Cash App Lyrics
Song Lyrics Cash App by Dee Watkins
What’s your Cash App
What’s your Cash App
Bitch, what’s your Cash App
Don’t be trippin’ off a Cash App
Bitch, what’s your Cash App
All that paper What’s your cash app
Lil’ D
Uh
They like damn, what the fuck
How you do that?
They tellin’ me to deal with the tool
I say “Screw that”
But put the guns down I have beat a nigga blue, black
I been there had a tik, no IG
But you knew that
Yeah you motherfuckin’ knew
Hell yeah, bitch you knew
I took the condom off
Cause I’m fucking with you boo
I hate to see you go though I don’t really need a crew
I’m ten toes down like the bottom of my shoe
Ok
Racks in my jeans I got racks in my backpack
Told that bitch to leave
She ain’t nothin’ but a knack, knack
I ain’t got no pressure with ya baby
I don’t have that
Oh, you want some thirty-inch bundles?
What’s your cash app
Twelve get behind me
I ain’t trippin’ this a scat pack
I just got into it with my doll but we past that
I be in the lab going hard on my lab rat
She a whole [?] face cute in the ass vat
Damn, why your bitch won’t leave me alone
Uh, why she keep on blowing up my phone
Uh, I’m a crop ’em out and get ’em goin’
I won’t make you famous I won’t diss you in no song
I’m rolling, pencil totin’, window pokin’
Smokin’, got me talkin’, this important
Hold it, don’t let him in the building
I don’t know him
Roll him, like a Backwood, I’ma smoke him
They like damn, what the fuck
How you do that?
They tellin’ me to deal with the tool
I say “Screw that”
But put the guns down I have beat a nigga blue, black
I been there had a tik, no IG
But you knew that
Yeah you motherfuckin’ knew
Hell yeah, bitch you knew
I took the condom off
Cause I’m fucking with you boo
I hate to see you go though I don’t really need a crew
I’m ten toes down like the bottom of my shoe
I fuck for every yeah
[?]
Type of nigga to fuck her raw and fill her up with plan-B’s
Type of nigga to fuck her raw until act like she don’t know me
Type of nigga when I’m through with her she do the hommies
I’m the typpe of nigga I don’t know what to do with ’em
I keep it on me
Ridin’ in the space, cool, [?] I’m lonely
Parkas on, overweight you niggas gettin’ boney
Parkas on, he ran the plates, they need a shine to clone me
Uh-uh, you niggas can’t come in
Just spent 20k camo-fied [?] outfit
We flyin’ PJ booth from the project
I put cheese on your head like Aaron Rodgers
You think I’m in the fashion
I be throwin’ bullets, Lamar Jackson
Runnin in the Philly, you in traffic
[?]
[?] flaggin’
My nigga took the hit and the wagon
They like damn, what the fuck
How you do that?
They tellin’ me to deal with the tool
I say “Screw that”
But put the guns down I have beat a nigga blue, black
I been there had a tik, no IG
But you knew that
Yeah you motherfuckin’ knew
Hell yeah, bitch you knew
I took the condom off
Cause I’m fucking with you boo
I hate to see you go though I don’t really need a crew
I’m ten toes down like the bottom of my shoe
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