Creeping - Lil Skies, Rich The Kid

Blame on me no shame on you

No shame on you, blame on me no

Aye, aye

Blame on me, no shame on you

No you can’t hide the truth

Imma slide right through yo roof

Might pop a pill or two

Let them hate, we chop the deuce

Fuck that, we gettin' loose

Pussy sweeter than some juice

I slurp it like it’s soup

She a naughty type on the weekend

Perfect night, she gon' let me start to creepin'

Baby go on offense, I’m playin' defense

You want top, I swear that’s the perfect sequence

Why you like to lie, shawty, you know you impressed

See you fuckin' with me now cause I bossed up and I flex

All they like to do is talk when they knew that I was next

I just come up with these hits and lay low, collect my checks

She fuck with solid niggas

She don’t be fuckin' with broke boys

I ran it up, that was my choice

She call me up when she need pipe

My girl ain’t playing with no toys

Watch my back, niggas lurkin'

My girl look better in person

And she still picture perfect

Dip and dash when we swervin'

Oh me, oh my

Put my hand on your thighs

If I come through tonight

I’ll make you touch the sky

Don’t need to wink my eye

Know I’m not even playin'

You know just what I’m sayin'

Got you and all your cravings

Blame on me, no shame on you

No you can’t hide the truth

Imma slide right through yo roof

Might pop a pill or two

Let them hate, we chop the deuce

Fuck that, we gettin' loose

Pussy sweeter than some juice

I slurp it like it’s soup

She a naughty type on the weekend

Perfect night, she gon' let me start to creepin'

Baby go on offense, I’m playin' defense

You want top, I swear that’s the perfect sequence

Hold my wrist up out the coupe

Two bitches, spread your roof

That pussy good, I’m blamin' you

You drippin', shame on you

She got real water

Head real smarter

They into bitches from Florida

You probably can’t afford her

Bentley truck might park the coupe

I’m living comfortable

Talk money then I’m stuck with you

Now I’m in love with you

Plug pull up in the UFO

No small talk, I’m the CEO

My bitches is bad, they do the most

She way too foreign, straight off the boat

I put her on top, she leaking, she leaking

Touch you a freak on the weekend, the weekend

Blame on me no shame on you

Girl you can’t hide the truth

I might get a rari coupe

But just to flex on you

Blame on me, no shame on you

No you can’t hide the truth

Imma slide right through yo roof

Might pop a pill or two

Let them hate, we chop the deuce

Fuck that, we gettin' loose

Pussy sweeter than some juice

I slurp it like it’s soup

She a naughty type on the weekend

Perfect night, she gon' let me start to creepin'

Baby go on offense, I’m playin' defense

You want top, I swear that’s the perfect sequence