Letra Private conversations Bigbabygucci

Private conversations

Feel this shit inside yo'—, vibrations
Triple—, I made the driver triple—, hella paranoid

Feel this shit inside yo' body like vibrations
Made lil' shawty sit beside me while I face it
I made the driver triple-back to the location
I'm hella paranoid, I have private conversations
Pull up, lay him down
I can't even stand him
In this double-
R, I turn to Danny Phantom
The two-seater is full, not too much to handle
This switch got a remote, the shooter change the channel

Heard he wanted beef, so I'ma pin the cattle
I hit her in my Guccis and I kept the cap on
Why yo' hand out, lil' bitch? I don't even know you at all
I need my bands up so my old hoes don't know me at all
I push to start up on this bitch, it got me goin' through walls
I treat this life shit just like my bitch, I'm fuckin' her raw
Hey, baby, yeah, you know I'm always finna blaze
Eight lines of codeine inside my lemonade
Big freak, man, I met yo' ho, she wanna eat me
Vamp, though, you are not a eater if your fangs low
Type shit, shawty wanna fuck me and have bi sex
Nice friend, tell her come on over, bring her by 10
Drugs in, nigga, I'm the socket, got no plug in
Bust it, I'm the realest one, lil' baby, fuck them
I'm the realest one, lil' baby, fuck them
[?] by the way I trucked him

Feel this shit inside yo' body like vibrations
Made lil' shawty sit beside me while I face it
I made the driver triple-back to the location
I'm hella paranoid, I have private conversations
Pull up, lay him down
I can't even stand him
In this double-
R, I turn to Danny Phantom
The two-seater is full, not too much to handle
This switch got a remote, the shooter change the channel

Crocodile, leather [?], Michael Jackson
Light him like a candle, bring the burner, yeah, we waxed him
[?] tires on the Bentley truck, shit got traction
Bitch, I'm tired, I don't give a fuck, I'm relaxin'
Ballin' like it's alley-oop, two bands on my tennis shoes
I can't bring you anywhere if you not prepared to shoot
I can never love that ho, she fucked up my revenue
She turn to a fiend for that green and that residue
Woah, this a Glock 30
Put you in position like you Brock Purdy
I wan' say you winnin' but you ain't deserve it
Yeah, say hi to the byes, she still feel deserted
Movin' like the Taliban, Louis V turban (V turban)
I can tell you want it bad, know you seem determined
Had to burn the bridge down, love to see you burnin'
Meet me in the hills, I don't really need service

Need service
Ne-ne-need service
Ne-ne-ne-ne-need service
Ne-ne-ne-ne-ne-ne-ne-ne-ne-ne-ne-ne—