Pickin’ Sides Lyrics by Bankroll Freddie & Icewear Vezzo
Yeah (FOEVERROLLING)
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah (What?), yeah, yeah (Bankroll)
Three hundred fifty thousand on my neck alone (I don’t know how)
I’m the reason why the opps are quiet ’cause we keep steppin’ on ’em (‘Cause we keep steppin’ on ’em)
Seventy thousand watch, don’t know the time, we must of set it wrong (Aye, what time it is?)
In the D with Vez, we pouring meds, no tellin’ what we on (Woo)
Heard my opp got shot, I’m out of town, they lucky it wasn’t me (It wasn’t me)
N***** cross me once and I’ma make sure that y’all get a tee (Get a tee)
Knowin’ how you n***** bite my style, it’s only one of me (Tryna copy swag)
N****, you a kid and you a child, like you my son to me (Like you my lil’ boy)
Really rich, ain’t never ever gotta post a throwback (At all)
Every bitch I had, they want me back, look that’s a big fact (Come here)
N****, I got bands for real, I’m really talkin’ big racks (I’m talkin’ racks)
Aye, tell my opps, “Get even then,” little n****, get your lick back
You bitch ass
Since you picking sides, you gon’ get murdered with them n***** (Yeah)
I put turbo on that glizzy (Baow, baow), Stephen Curry this extensions (Curry)
I don’t hang with rappers, fuck you heard we in them trenches
You ain’t never shot nobody (Yeah, yeah)
N***** virgins like these bitches (Aye, bitches)
Yeah, dope man
Turn a project bitch into a Prada baby (What?)
Rose gold, Richard Millie stainless, cost a $1.80
Got some shit ’bout tall as my son, hangin’ out that Dracy
I ain’t pullin’ over for no Jakey, bitch, you gotta chase me (Skrrt)
Hmm, yeah, this straight A fast as shit (Yeah)
I ain’t pullin’ over for nobody, Keke, pass the stick
Hop up out that ride and walk up fast, it’s like I had to piss
Slide to Cali, I ain’t got no soldiers, grab the bag and dip (Grab the bag and dip)
Yeah, I let that magic tricks
Fuck the arguing, I’ll leave yo’ shit open like a bag of chips
Heard she married, still don’t give no fucks, I’ll buy her ass and tities (For real)
You ain’t hit nobody on that drill, I think you tried to miss
Since you picking sides, you gon’ get murdered with them n***** (Yeah)
I put turbo on that glizzy (Baow, baow), Stephen Curry this extensions (Curry)
I don’t hang with rappers, fuck you heard we in them trenches
You ain’t never shot nobody
N***** virgins like these bitches (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
Six figure n**** for my rap deal (Six figure n**** for my rap deal)
I know millionaires really rich (Trap), but they still trap still (Trap)
Million dollar n****, but no cap, I still get packs still (I still get packs still)
Send ’em on a plane or on the road, all in that vacc’ seal