MR. INCREDIBLE

Dustin Roade

Ayy, what up
All these niggas was talkin' shit
But I be in they pockets chillin
He talkin' then I'm finna mock the bitch
I'm like, baby, you got a minute
Start talkin' then I'm finna rock her shit
And lately I been ballin' in high fashion
Like I'm Roddy Ricch
And I told her, you got it, bitch
I be makin' the hottest shit
They bumpin' 'lil Woa in the party mix
I be rackin' them bodies up
But I still be keepin' it modest, bitch
Shorty act like she gotta fuck
Cause she know that I go retarded in it
I'ma shit on 'em later
Lately I'm just really fartin' with it
I know that I'ma get far with this
And lately I been makin' songs consistent
And don't nobody play a part in this but me
Or maybe I'm just narcissistic
Roll a blunt up in the box and shit
We reminiscin' how we got to this
I'm hella faded and my mind a mess
I tell 'lil shorty she can ride the shit
Uh, you ain't takin' a shot, you ain't ballin' enough
Ayy, is you playin' or not?
Cause I'm callin' your bluff
Uh, you sayin' a lot, but you hoggin' the blunt
Stay in the box, we foggin' it up
When I hop on this beat, I'ma body it, uh

And I'm feelin' incredible
Slide in this bitch like I'm Mr. Incredible
I'm makin' commas, he still countin' decimals
If I'm too loud, then I take off a decibel
Uh, if he get loud, then I make him a vegetable
Stay in your crowd, I ain't no one to mess with
They gon' be shoutin' my name at the festivals
I don't know about the rest of em
Thinkin' they tough, but I'm really ahead of em
Shit gettin' rough in the streets, it's embarrassing
I'm busy gettin' my green and my cheddar up
Thinkin' you fuckin' with me, I'm your parent
If I drop a song, you ain't droppin' a better one
All of your bitches be stoppin' and starin' at me
Guess you startin' to see I'm the better one

Guess they startin' to see I'm the
You ain't party with me, I ain't lettin' ya
I watch Barney and be gettin' hella hugs
I'm a star and I still be on hella drugs
Spit a bar like I been in the cell or somethin'
Put my all in this shit, I ain't lettin' up
I'm just jogging' they still won't be catchin' up
Know we on top, why the fuck they be testin' us?
Bitch
A hoe and a bop, yeah, I put 'em together
They showin' me why I can't hook up
I tell on myself and they countin' the bitches I slept with
'Lil Woa put cock in 'em on to the next bitch
I know I'm provocative, callin' and textin'
Pour up some Wock 'cause I'm ballin' and blessed
This hoein' don't stop, I ain't fallin' to rest

O-o-o-uh
I'm fuckin' her box and makin' a mess
They be on my top, they tryna invest in Woa
They know that I'm comin' up next
They be off a Roxy bangin' they chest
You be with your posse, all in the mix
Boy, get to the side, I tell him to kick rocks
That boy always lookin' for a fix
Niggas really don't know who this is
If I did it, now they want in
Uh, and the shit that you don't want endin', it end
It's just what it is
I be makin' them hits
I just dropped a diss, made the opp listen
What a bitch
He gon' make a skit with another nigga
Leechin' off his mans
Let me tell you in advance
I'm the type to put dick in your bitch
Add it to my list, pass it to my mans

(Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh)
(For real)
(Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh)
(On God)
(Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh)
('Lil Woa)
(Uh, uh, uh, uh, uh)

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La chanson “MR. INCREDIBLE” de Dot a été composée par Dustin Roade.

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