Quin NFN – Detroit Flow lyrics
Hold on, ayy, ayy, ayy
I really just like how I sound on these beats, I don’t even be mean, you know
Flow like this, another shit that should just be going on like
Ayy, hold on, ayy, ayy, ayy
I feel like these niggas just gotta feel me, you know, I’m just
I just high that shit a quarter, you know
Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy
Hold on, hocus pocus, pop up on ’em with this ratchet
Niggas hate ’cause we got paintin’ cake and ain’t be livin’ tragic
I got bitches tryna fuck ’cause they see racks in all this cash
They all call me Michael Jackson, put a glove on when I’m smashin’
I got balls inside the cabinet, what you need?
I’ma break him down, I’m tryna stretch him, limousine (I’m tryna stretch him)
Ride through Hollywood, I drop the top and pour in lean
We got more clips than a movie, hit his block, we shooting scene (Ayy)
Come and [?], which one you niggas tryin’?
If everybody with the shits, then bitch, which one you niggas lying?
Say [?], that pussy nigga lying
Hit the top with all my pylons, bitch, I feel it’s perfect timing (Gang, huh, uh, uh)
And they know I keep a hammer, get my tour on (Get my tour one)
Lot of straps inside this bitch, it look like war zone (Pa, pa, pa, pow)
Tryna slide for where your pylons and get tote on
That type of shit that go wrong, them statements gon’ get rode on (Dumbass)
They ain’t gotta let me in ’cause I’ma move y’all
The dick that’s on that gun, it ain’t been used and it got blue ball
Push up with that way LeBron moving like the UR
I’m rollin’ like some skates, I pulled an eight and that bitch too are
[?] upon his nose and leave them frozen, call the mood out
Spent some racks upon my toes and all my clothes, bitch, I didn’t flew off
They in love with giving, I can make them hoes come have a chew out
I see all you niggas scared, just use your head ‘fore it get blew out
Ayy, ayy, I got some change on me, I ain’t changed, nigga (Bitch)
Quit your state, it poppin’ shit just like the painkiller (I’m poppin’)
Get my team, I’m raisin’, winnin’, bought a chain, nigga (Gang)
A lot of bitches tryin’ to kick it, Liu Kang, nigga
A lot of bitches on me, bitches want me ’cause the Rollie dance
Ain’t no in between, I’m gettin’ the green, the guacamole, man
You the type of nigga hit the screen and pay for Onlyfans
Murder, robbin’, trappin’, stealin’, all up in my homie plans
I put hoes in all these stairs when I step in
I’m gon’ fuck hoes in a ratchet, have the more hoes in a [?]
Get the bag in and I stack it, it get passed in and I’m trappin’
Then I’m out here with this action, I’ma keep it real, no flaggin’ (Gang, huh)
