CupcakKe – Lawd Jesus Lyrics

Lawd Jesus By CupcakKe

Ayy
When I walk in a room, all the n—– lookin’ at me
Like “What is my income?”
Not droppin’ no brooms, that n—- get stood up like how the broom challenge just went down
Don’t wanna assume but b—— really broke and I don’t know where y’all get rent from
And I’ma just spit in your face, if you walk up to me asking me can I spit somethin’
‘Cause I do not talk if it ain’t about money
I look at your mouth like you ramblin’
I can [?] on God, I just lost 700K off of nothin’ but gamblin’
I went sick and got fraud but I had to fight all my demons, that s— was real challengin’
So now when I walk around people with money, I say shut up like a mannequin (Shh)
So I can just soak up they info
Now my bank copy that, that’s ten fold
I don’t go wherever the wind blow
‘Cause if my wig fall off, that’s the end ho
But lucky I’m paid, edges stay laid like prostitutes on Friday night
While you s—–’ his thing, I’m outside pullin’ strings
Like a b—- flyin’ kites and no I don’t rock mics
Red bottoms with the spikes
Tinted windows, out of sight
No cash just swipe
Cashier like, “Yikes! She’s black not white”
When I hop off my flight, Naomi Campbell with the wipes, ayy
Save his number under “typo” ’cause that n—- wasn’t my type
It’s nothin’ to talk to these n—– like s— but I’d rather not do that today
‘Cause n—– be trippin’, I’d rather just tell a n—- “Tie your f—–’ shoelace”
And n—– is b——, I’d rather just give they a– a motherfuckin’ bouquet
And I’m really barfing in b—— when they drop an album and that’s my new date, ayy

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B—- I’m eating good, double chin, black card match the skin
F— all my old friends, I’m not tryna make amends (Lawd, Jesus)
I said “Mama chill, we gon’ win”
Money keep comin’ in
I’m tryna change from back then
But every time I hear the sins (Lawd, Jesus)

I’m on some positive vibes but every time n—– testin’ my patience
Only could wait for so long, before I do you wrong
‘Cause I’m not a waitress (On God)
Every December 31st, I go in the new year with no type of hatred
Then back January 3rd, the neighbors hurt, while they treating my playlist
Man these dirty b—— don’t do the dishes
Then tell a n—- “Come eat the butt” (How?)
And wake up with crust in they a– and that s— thinking they in Pizza Hut
But I’m off it, they coughin’
Yeah I know how to market, no Boston
Tell a n—- don’t talk it, just walk it
Pop a n—- like drums way too often (Brrr)

B—- I’m eating good, double chin, black card match the skin
F— all my old friends, I’m not tryna make amends (Lawd, Jesus)
lyrics fa I said “Mama chill, we gon’ win”
Money keep comin’ in
I’m tryna change from back then
But everytime I hear the sins (Lawd, Jesus)