[Intro: BabySantana]
Is it recording?
Alright, let's get it
Ayy, yeah (Uh)
Ayy, yeah (Ayy CGM, where you at?)
Ayy, yeah
Ayy, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Ayy, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Ayy, yeah, yeah, brrr
[Chorus: BabySantana]
She said hey to me, I thought she was Damon Sharpe
Mona Lisa, she a painted work of art
Gas so high, I think I could touch the stars
And my pockets fat, yeah, my pockets they all large (Woah, yeah)
[Verse 1: BabySantana]
Please don't hit my phone, you gon' get ignored
Me, Dami and Sonny we gon' up the score
I got hella girls that seem a galorе
And my pockets fat
She grabbing on my Ksubi's asking me likе what is that
I got way too much to lose, if I need to call my slatt
I'm a young stunna boy they say I look like my dad
[Verse 2: KA$HDAMI]
I'm paranoid, I'm always watching for that back door
You ain't finna bust a ni**a, what you got that strap for
Pop a ni**a like a zit, this 19 open up your pores
I-I-I'm with Tana in Chicago on the top floor
Private location, overnight sensation
Sonny light the J and then we put it in rotation
Baddie tryna pull up on me, text her the location
ni**as steady in my phone, they begging for the placement
[Verse 3: BabySantana]
Hating on my Twitter, they ain't know that's motivation
2 girls in my crib and they ain't know they got relations
Woke up in the party, we gon' shoot it up
Shoutout to lil' Lawsy I'm so booted up
So much True Religion, I stay truey'd up
Sorry baby, I ain't mean to make a fool of ya
[Chorus: BabySantana]
She said hey to me, I thought she was Damon Sharpe
Mona Lisa, she a painted work of art
Gas so high, I think I could touch the stars
And my pockets fat, yeah, my pockets they all large (Woah, yeah)
[Verse 4: DCG Bsavv & DCG Shun]
(Uh) Hey Santana we in a [?]
You riding with us, just know we strapped
We gotta make sure you get back
A ni**a move wrong just know it's that
Look, don't listen to sh*t on the net
I hit from the back [?] on the cat
I was 16, I running the bag
We coming for ni**as, we all on they necks
If you wanna talk don't go through @'s
Whoever die next, we got get back
I got a mil', so I could sit back
You ain't a gangster, lil' boy get back
We sell weed then we bought crack
They bought crack and we got racks
My opps get sick I'm rich off that
Go through that b*tch and pass out the pack
You don't know the half, I'm in it to win
I stay with KA$H, yeah that's my twin
I bought a Benz for my new friend
I bought a clip for my new gym
He boutta say that, "This my first mil'"
b*tch, you never made that
I'm loving the crowd, I might jump in
I'm yelling, "Where my rage at?"
I love grown b*tches, they be asking what my age at
10k for a show, I might not come if I get played with
I leave with who I came with
I shoot when I see strange sh*t
They say I'm weird 'cause I hate lame sh*t
And I'm never with the same b*tch
[Chorus: BabySantana]
She said hey to me, I thought she was Damon Sharpe
Mona Lisa, she a painted work of art
Gas so high, I think I could touch the stars
And my pockets fat, yeah, my pockets they all large (Woah, yeah)