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Correct Bust Down Lyrics
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Artists: P
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Playboi Carti
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Correct Bust Down
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Lyrics:
[Intro: Playboi Carti] Yo Pi'erre, you wanna come out here? Yeah, yeah Yeah, yeah, yeah Yeah, yah [Chorus: Playboi Carti] I'm on that tote shit (yeah), I'm on that tote shit (yeah) I'm on that tote shit (yeah), I'm on that tote shit (yeah) I'm on that tote shit (yah), I'm on that tote shit (yeah) I'm on that tote shit (yeah), I'm on that tote shit (yeah) I'm on that tote shit (yah), I'm on that tote shit (yah) I'm on that tote shit (yeah), I'm on that tote shit (yah) I'm on that tote shit (yeah), I'm on that tote shit (yah) [Verse 1: Playboi Carti] I'm on that slatt shit (yeah), I make it float bitch (yeah) I'm on that slime shit (yeah), gun to your neck, bitch (slatt) I'm on them nines bitch (yeah), they ain't goin' for shit (nah) Lost a hunnit thousand that ain't hurt shit It cost a hunnit thousand for my necklace Broke a hunnit thousand hearts quick Break a hunnit thousand down quick Bust down Rollie with the kick Bust down AP look like dis They ain't never met a boy like dis Ayy, I'm freestylin', boy, I'm makin' hits Callin' up the trap, boy, I'm homesick I got these niggas pissed (yah) [Chorus: Playboi Carti] I'm on that tote shit (yeah), I'm on that tote shit (yeah) I'm on that tote shit (yeah), I'm on that tote shit (yeah) I'm on that tote shit (yah), I'm on that tote shit (yeah) I'm on that tote shit (yeah), I'm on that tote shit (yeah) I'm on that tote shit (yah), I'm on that tote shit (yah) I'm on that tote shit (yeah), I'm on that tote shit (yah) I'm on that tote shit (yeah), I'm on that tote shit (yah) [Verse 2: G Herbo] Ayy, ayy, you on that hoe shit I'on fuck with hoe niggas Ain't tryna kick it witcha I stay out hoes business Pull up in Rolls, whippin' Fuck 'round, let poles hit him Gone off the percs, trippin' Who do you [?], no limit Now y'all up in surgery thinking at first how he just was in perfect condition I pop out with that .30 and go-go berserk if you put me in certain positions And I'm in that Vert, switchin' Lanes on all you bitches Hell nah, I'm ballin' on you bitches I John Wall you bitches Yeah, as you can tell that pasto got me soundin' like I got asthma Yeah, as you can tell there's a S on the back, that mean my car go faster You look broke, bastard FN, I tote plastic Everything automatic Two hunnit on this Aston Still tote the Glock in traffic Run up on me, I'm blastin' [Chorus: Playboi Carti] I'm on that tote shit (yeah), I'm on that tote shit (yeah) I'm on that tote shit (yeah), I'm on that tote shit (yeah) I'm on that tote shit (yah), I'm on that tote shit (yeah) I'm on that tote shit (yeah), I'm on that tote shit (yeah) I'm on that tote shit (yah), I'm on that tote shit (yah) I'm on that tote shit (yeah), I'm on that tote shit (yah) I'm on that tote shit (yeah), I'm on that tote shit (yah)
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