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Brand new Lamborghini, fuck a cop car With the pistol on my hip like I'm a cop (yeah, yeah, yeah) Have you ever met a real nigga rockstar? This ain't no guitar, bitch, this a Glock (woo) My Glock told me to promise you gon' squeeze me (woo) You better let me go the day you need me (woo) Soon as you up me on that nigga, get to bustin' (woo) And if I ain't enough, go get the chop
Rico sung the song as we drove to the mall. Why the fuck does have to be loud.
"It's safe to say I earned it, ain't a nigga gave me nothin'!" He yelled even louder.
"Yo words to moms; stop singing the shit. You ain't the Da baby." I said.
"Nigha you don't tell what to do! Just because it's about to be your birthday week don't mean imma be nice nigga." He said.
"Shut yo dodo head ass up." Rashawn said while typing on his phone.
"Don't play wimme I'll get Zahara to bust them windows out like she did the first time." He said while making Rashawn laugh too. They still not over that shit.
"She ain't gone do shit." Was all I said.
"Nigga did you see if she gone come to Hawaii with us." Rashawn said.
"Nah I told her ass she gone come." I said while shrugging.
"You can't just tell her that; how you know she ain't have nothing planned?" He asked.
"She does have something planned." I said simply.
"See nigga th—." I cut him off.
"She's coming to Hawaii." I said.
|𝗭𝗮𝗵𝗮𝗿𝗮|
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