Low

My beat low, my bass low, I ride low, she go low

My beat low, my bass low, I ride low, she go low

Me, Juicy J, got too many hoes

Me, Juicy J, got too many flows

Clique ballin' out like the '98 Lakers

Pull up in a million dollar car and violate it

Fly to Cancun on Sunday, land in France on Monday

Faded at the fashion show,tryna grab a bitch off the runway

I ain't even pack no clothes, nothin' but rubbers in my suitcase

Laid her on the mic, menage with my model and her roommate

And if I tip a bitch, we fuckin', it ain't no discussion

It cost to be the boss, my nigga you way outta your budget

Who you playin' with lil homie? Your life won't cost me nothin'

Juicy J so presidential, don't make me press that button

My beat low, my bass low, I ride low, she go low

My beat low, my bass low, I ride low, she go low

I get a brick, you know I get it for the, low

Her ass so fat, I told her drop it down, low

I do a verse, you know my prices ain't, low

Lil momma know I like my kisses down

Me, Nicki M, I got too many wins

Pull up with them V twins in my engine

All this ice all around me like a penguin

I ain't talkin' bowlin' but I'm with the kingpin

I pull up with a nigga with a real big dick

That's just so good, man a bitch came quick

I ain't ever have a beat that a bitch ain't rip

I'm fly every day but a bitch ain't trippin'

You be on that bull, you be on Scott Pippen

I be pimp walkin', I'm limpin'

C's on my bag so they think I'm crippin'

Every nigga in here wanna know what I'm drinkin'

Myx Moscato, niggas

I keep a pillow with me just because I'm tired of niggas

I'm with some flawless girls, they're pretty and they're thick

Bust it open quick, put that pussy on his lips, bitch

My beat low, my bass low, I ride low, she go low

My beat low, my bass low, I ride low, she go low

I get a brick, you know I get it for the, low

Her ass so fat, I told her drop it down, low

I do a verse, you know my prices ain't, low

Lil momma know I like my kisses down

I'm Lil Bibby, Mr. Everything-For-The-Low

Mr. Leave-Her-At-Home-He'll-Take-Your-Ho

Mr. Stack-That-Dough

Young rich nigga used to trap by the store, now taxed for the flow

Tell a rap nigga, "I'm not feelin' you"

Stop frontin', boy, y'all not criminals

At the top, man they talkin' 'bout killin' you

Got two 9's but they're not identical

I'll never trade on my squad, nigga

Ball hard, nigga, I'm Michael Jordan, you Lebron, nigga

In other words, you a fraud, nigga

I'll pull your card, nigga

I'm a young boss, I'm runnin' shit

Call me King Tut, all this gold on, I be blinged up

If they try to rob, got the things tucked, you ain't seen nothin'

At the club, their jaws drop when I pull up in that Benz

30 deep, 'bout 20 heats, still stomp him out with my Timbs

I'm in here chillin' with my feet up

I told y'all that I'm 'bout to heat up

Man it's time to kill all this weak stuff

Pull the beat up, watch me eat up

My beat low, my bass low, I ride low, she go low

My beat low, my bass low, I ride low, she go low

I get a brick, you know I get it for the, low

Her ass so fat, I told her drop it down, low

I do a verse, you know my prices ain't, low

Lil momma know I like my kisses down