Why

Spent a bag on my wrist, yeah

Spent a bag on my *******, yeah

Spent another bag on a whip, yeah

Bank account still look lit

Lookin' like I just hit a lick, yeah

Still ride 'round with a stick

Fakeness make me sick, yeah

We get lit, get lit

We get lit, get lit, yeah

We get lit, make hits, yeah

I don't ever tweak or twitch, yeah

Bad ******* give me lip

I got a shooter that keeps my 6, yeah

Shooter got aim, don't miss, yeah

I'll never worry 'bout *******t, yeah

All I care about is gettin' rich

'Cause I got a bag to claim

And I got M's to make

I'm layin' low, workin' hard

Why you so mad at me?

Why you so mad at me?

Why you so mad at me?

I'm laying' low, workin' hard

Why you so mad at me?

Why you so?

You can stay mad at me, I ain't even mindin' you

Think I might take your girl without even tryin' to

She tellin' you it's nothing

'Cause she can't confide in you

I'm givin' her everything that she couldn't find in you

And maybe it's better that way,

She knows its better my way

I ain't got time to just chill,

Everytime ******* get killed

Bringin' her pleasure, my pleasure

I go harder under pressure

Treat her like work and I stretch her

She only cum if I let her

Now she know what dealin' with the man feel like

Came around and showed her what she can feel like

And she love it when I let her count my racks

I told you, I ain't never going back

So I got a bag to claim

And I got M's to make

I'm layin' low, workin' hard

Why you so mad at me?

Why you so mad at me?

Why you so mad at me?

I'm layin' low, workin' hard

Why you so mad at me?

Why you so?

Why you so?

Why you so?

Why you so?

So mad, so, so