On It! lyrics by King Combs - original song full text. Official On It! lyrics, 2024 version | LyricsMode.com
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King Combs – On It! lyrics
[Intro: King Combs]
Yeah
You see all this ice, nigga, you see how we rockin'
CYN, nigga

[Chorus: AzChike]
I bust down in these Louies
I gotta chill, knockin' down all these groupies
I'm a Playboi Carti, hang around with the Uzi
You actin' like she yours but she down for my movie
I be pimpin', I ain't worried 'bout no bitch crushin'
If I jump, they gon' jump, get this bitch jumpin'
Broke up with my Glock, got that bitch dumpin'
If I wear my money with my clothes, I can't fit nothin'
Bands pokin', thirty Glock got my hand smokin'
If I'm up and catch a lick, I put my mans on it
I bring the bitches to the beach, put the sand on it
Treat that ass like a fur and put my hands on it

[Verse 1: King Combs]
Yeah, uh, put my hands on it
If you twerkin' for a Birkin, put my bands on it
Dirty money, she gon' have to put a fan on it
Shawty duckin' from the flash, put the cam on it
Yeah, I go Super Saiyan on it
And she's leavin' with me, you can plan on it
'Cause the crib so big, you can land on it
And that shit got a beach, you can tan on it
What? What? And that's facts
Cut her off, she mad, and that's that
Four door garage, the whips black
Hoes wanna menáge, they bitch bad

[Verse 2: 1TakeJay]
Like I worked at WingStop, you see these pieces
This Cuban link sittin' up just like I got cleavage
Like an old bitch, let me put my teeth in
I can't smile too hard 'cause my shit really blingin'
And if the head game right, I'm not leavin'
You bald-headed, if you can't achieve it, bitch, weave it
These niggas want smoke but these niggas still tweet
This bitch got a nigga but this bitch still beakin'
I can't fuck with a classy bitch, I tried it
I need a ratchet bitch that's gon' suck dick and ride it
Girl, you want this dick, ain't shit free, you gotta buy it
She Cash App and text back, ooh, you know I like it
I'm Superman 'cause these lil' niggas is my sidekick
I'm not sellin' swag but these niggas still buyin'
You not a boss, you just real good at lyin'
Singin' all my shit, you my fan and my hypeman

[Chorus: AzChike]
I bust down in these Louies
I gotta chill, knockin' down all these groupies
I'm a Playboi Carti, hang around with the Uzi
You actin' like she yours but she down for my movie
I be pimpin', I ain't worried 'bout no bitch crushin'
If I jump, they gon' jump, get this bitch jumpin'
Broke up with my Glock, got that bitch dumpin'
If I wear my money with my clothes, I can't fit nothin'
Bands pokin', thirty Glock got my hand smokin'
If I'm up and catch a lick, I put my mans on it
I bring the bitches to the beach, put the sand on it
Treat that ass like a fur and put my hands on it
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