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"fast " Lyrics

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KenzDean
I'm at, I'm at Sueco's, bitch

Fast, four hundred on the dash
Fifty-five bills, buck fifty for the tax on the bag
I don't really like to brag
Vetements socks when I'm steppin' out at Saks
I'ma hit it in the morning 'cause I'm whiskey dickin'
Got my brother out in Cashville flippin' chickens (Hey)
Free bro from the can, I ain't talkin' whippits
Bitch, I make beats and bad decisions (Offset)

Hit it, I'ma drop the top and show her titties (Hit it)
Stars in the ceiling, Wraith black, I'm a villain (Wraith)
Fuck it, stack the money up right past a million (Fuck it)
Hah, my flow be sick, I need some penicillin (Hah, hah, hah)
Get back, shawty tryna fuck me for these racks
Hellcat, slide on these niggas, they get whacked (Slide)
Better get your bitch, she on the ground tryna act (Act me)
Caught her in the lost and found fuckin' for a rack, ayy
What the deal is? (Huh) Don't care what the bill is (Bills)
And I take care all my gang in the village (Gang)
I got real rich (Rich), pop the seal quick (Drank)
Board a jet, I done took your bitch on field trips (Hey)

Fast, four hundred on the dash
Fifty-five bills, buck fifty for the tax on the bag
I don't really like to brag
Vetements socks when I'm steppin' out at Saks
I'ma hit it in the morning 'cause I'm whiskey dickin'
Got my brother out in Cashville flippin' chickens
Free bro from the can, I ain't talkin' whippits
Bitch, I make beats and bad decisions

You at Sueco's, get with the program
Light-skin bitch off that Lindsay Lohan
She off the dust, she off the Hilary Duff
Baby, I ain't tryna cuff, ho, I'm just tryna bust
Wait, hold up, you gotta play with my nuts
Hmm, I'ma make a beat out your butt
Hmm, 007, James Bond
Double Oreo stuffed, double up my funds
She a vixen on the cam, so I grab my iPhone
She dumb with the head, got me doin' an eye roll
She bad on film, gotta check out her B-roll
Put my D in her V, got her singin' a C note

Fast, four hundred on the dash
Fifty-five bills, buck fifty for the tax on the bag
I don't really like to brag
Vetements socks when I'm steppin' out at Saks
I'ma hit it in the morning 'cause I'm whiskey dickin'
Got my brother out in Cashville flippin' chickens
Free bro from the can, I ain't talkin' whippits
Bitch, I make beats and bad decisions

Oh, word? Yeah, that's big facts
Three different mansions, ain't no tellin' where I live at
Bloody red Lamborghini got me screamin' brrat
And a nasty Richard Mille that be sittin' where my wrist at
We gon' slide out
I could fly your bitch out the country without you findin' out
Said she wanna be on the team, I let her try out (Yeah)
She ain't gettin' dick, so she playin' with her punani now
Yeah, she ain't gettin' dick, so she playin' with her punani now
My chain is lookin' ocky, it's water like a tsunami now
They told me not to tote on that .40, but shit be wocky now
They told me not to tote on that .40, but it's impossible
'Cause niggas, they be hatin', they on me so I keep a Glock or two

I'm at, I'm at Sueco's, bitch
song info:
Verified yes
LanguageEnglish
Genre
Rank
Duration00:02:40
Charts
Copyright ©Songtrust Ave
WriterJad Antoury, Dean Straub, Max Louie, Kiari Cephus, Artist Dubose and William Schultz
Lyrics licensed byLyricFind
AddedMay 2nd, 2020
Last updatedMarch 6th, 2022
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