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Famous Dex feat. Rich The Kid, Jay Critch - Asthma Attack Lyrics

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Okay (Dexter)
Dexter (Bankroll got it)
Ha, yeah

Money on me, on my teeth, ha
I keep a .30 on me
.30 is right in my jeans
I call up Dede you know that he shootin' for free
Ha, yeah, he shootin' for me
Huh, yeah, that is my twin
We get the money, yeah, we win
We fuck a lil' bitch and they twins
Yeah, with her friend
Ha, ooh, wait, huh
I took that bitch on a date
I might just bust on her face
She want the money, she late, I told her she late
Huh, what? The old Dex is back
Huh, yeah, a asthma attack (huh)
It's on me, baby girl, just relax
Ha, yeah, so I'm back here
I get a check, no welfare
I could've been broke, yeah, that was last year
Look at my pockets, them bitches like big ears
Ha, (what?) make a wish
She look at me, want a kiss
Baby girl I do not kiss, bitch
Who do you kiss with your lips, miss?

(Sorry) sorry, (what?) for my cussin' (my cussin')
Ha, I ain't mean all that (that's your lil' cousin?)
That's your cousin?
He drinkin' Robitussin?

All of my kids straight
Got rich off of a mixtape
My money like 6'8"
My chain a brand new Wraith
My bitch, she bad today (she bad)
Can't fuck with these niggas, they fake
It's Kobe, expensive my steak
I had too much on my plate
(Woo) yo Dexter
Run up, we putting that boy on a stretcher
(What?) yo Dexter
That pussy was good, I bought her a Lexus
Marshall went and got them pints from Texas
Break a brick down in the kitchen, I stretch it
World is mine, I done already said it
Bitch want a bag, but she cannot get it

Bitch want a bag, but I tell her forget it
Left wrist on baguetti spaghetti
Carti' frames, so I see where I'm headed
She let me swipe like it's debit or credit
Hop out the Lambo' truck
Brand new Amiri stuff
And I'm poppin' the tags
Stay with that cheese on us
If she ain't eating up
Then I'm dubbin' it fast
Tryna to compete with us
Little nigga, you don't make no deposits
Ran it up when I ran out of options
Run it down like, "what's in your wallet?"
Came a long way, hittin' stains in the Balmains
I'm with Dex, makin' plays like the ball game
I don't gotta flex, diamonds hitting from long range
Stay with shooters, point him out, and they all aim
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Written By: Dexter Tiewon Jr. Gore