Lyrics Quavo – Virgil
Text:
DJ Durel
Woo
White (White), and it’s snowin’ (Snowfall)
Off-White (White), and it’s snowin’ (Off-White)
My career (Ooh), it keep growin’ (Grow)
Four rings (Four-way), like the Audi (Blaow)
The top sushi (Su’), like karate (Uh)
We popped ’em (Shh, bow), you heard about ’em (Where? Shh)
QC veteran (QC)
Ho, let the Huncho settle in (Huncho, Huncho)
I can be in the trap (Uh), on the TV, on David Letterman (Woo)
Yeah, off the flair (Flair), drop me in the ocean, I’m peddlin’ (Skrrt, swim)
Young niggas brought all the culinaries (Skrrt), and I just came back from the Netherlands (Gone, yeah)
‘Nough of that pitty-pat (Pitty-pat), chitty chat (Chitty chat), tit for tat (Tit for tat)
I ain’t gon’ front, none of that (No)
I’m from Atlanta, I earned that (A)
But I came straight out the North (Yeah)
Yes, I know everybody heard that (Heard it)
Number one, that’s where the birds at (Brrt)
Hahahaha, getcha curve back (Ha)
I can’t get down (Get down), I gotta get up (Up)
Yeah (Yeah), I can’t get down (Nah), I gotta get up (Up, uh)
Yeah, I’m in the pothole whippin’ a knot ho
Make ’em go eat it up (Eat it up)
Straight out the basement whippin’ Picasso (Whip)
Young nigga heating up (Heat it up)
I can’t get froze (No), Lord knows the soul I own (God)
The ice two-tone (Ice, brrt), that’s four iPhones (Uh)
Baby boy Holmes (Woo), you aim preferably for the nose (Bow)
Niggas get hard until they get hit with the sentence (Damn, damn)
These niggas act hard, but they cannot handle they penalty (No, no)
Ain’t gon’ lie, I haven’t had smoke in a minute (Ain’t havin’ no smoke)
I’m focused on bags and juugin’, finessin’ the industry (Bags, finesse)
Free all my niggas until they reclaim they innocence (Free)
My bad bitch, I bought her a chain for kickin’ it (She icy)
Lame bitch, hit wit’ the flame, he snitchin’ it (He tellin’)
Cocaine witch, give her the lame, she sniffin’ it (She snortin’ it)
I can’t get down (Get down), I gotta get up (Up)
Yeah (Yeah), I can’t get down (Nah), I gotta get up (Up, uh)
Yeah, I’m in the pothole whippin’ a knot ho
Make ’em go eat it up (Eat it up)
Straight out the basement whippin’ Picasso (Whip)
Young nigga heating up (Heat it up)
I can’t get froze (No), Lord knows the soul I own (God)
The ice two-tone (Ice, brrt), that’s four iPhones (Uh)
Baby boy Holmes (Woo), you aim preferably for the nose (Bow)
It’s a trap boy zone (Trap), we exchange, Whitney for Nicole (Whitney)