F.O.M.F Lyrics – Lil Gotit

Read the full F.O.M.F lyrics by Lil Gotit along with the music video, song credits, release information and other details about the song. If you enjoy Lil Gotit’s music, you can also explore Winning Again, another song by Lil Gotit.

[Intro]
Uh, yeah
Man, don’t blow my high, n!gga (I’m cranking that s*it, yeah)
I’m fu*king with you
N!gga pushing this s*it ’round
Real n!gga radio

[Chorus]
Fu*k out my face
I’m geeked on a pill
Get the fu*k out my face
Fu*k is you talking ’bout?

Ain’t talking ’bout shooting with n!ggas, they rats today
My money be US
My dime wan’ be wifey
My drip, it came from Japan
I’m feeling closed in
I pull out that fully chop, hit up you and your man (Top chef)
Bankroll on me, let’s go splurge
Keep that s*it street like the curb
Twin got some Woky
I pour that s*it up, now I’m slowing my words
Get ’round these white folks speaking nothing but some business like I’m suburban
I don’t fu*k on none of these lil’ bitty b!tches, give ’em jobs, they working

[Verse 1]
Hella these b!tches, they going
The fu*k is you lil’ n!ggas doing?
Cut ’em right off like a morgue
Bae, I’m not cheating, I’m touring
Wild life, smoking forests
Chopper sing like a chorus
I got locked up in a Porsche
Lawyer beat it, I’m important
(??) came with a b!tch
Real blessing, I’ll give you a wish
They watching me, tune in on Twitch

Big P, sipping Cris
Sideways with a stick
I’m shooting everything in this b!tch
Oh my God, heaven the risk

[Chorus]
Fu*k out my face
I’m geeked on a pill
Get the fu*k out my face
Fu*k is you talking ’bout?
Ain’t talking ’bout shooting with n!ggas, they rats today
My money be US
My dime wan’ be wifey
My drip, it came from Japan
I’m feeling closed in
I pull out that fully chop, hit up you and your man (Top chef)
Bankroll on me, let’s go splurge
Keep that s*it street like the curb
Twin got some Woky
I pour that s*it up, now I’m slowing my words
Get ’round these white folks speaking nothing but some business like I’m suburban
I don’t fu*k on none of these lil’ bitty b!tches, give ’em jobs, they working

[Verse 2]
I give ’em jobs
They say that we move like the mob
Trap banging, she give me some jaws
I’m rich, piss over the stall
Your main ho got me on a call
Real freak, she going petite
She suck on my feet and balls and all
I hit that lil’ malls and ball
I know that they dig what I’m saying
They know I’m the man with the plan
I shoot all my chops with a stance
I steady got racks in my pants
I talk to my dogs in the can
They stand in the paint like a man
I can pay for that pu*sy and her ass
She caught Lil Gotit again

[Chorus]
Fu*k out my face
I’m geeked on a pill
Get the fu*k out my face
Fu*k is you talking ’bout?
Ain’t talking ’bout shooting with n!ggas, they rats today
My money be US
My dime wan’ be wifey
My drip, it came from Japan
I’m feeling closed in
I pull out that fully chop, hit up you and your man (Top chef)
Bankroll on me, let’s go splurge
Keep that s*it street like the curb
Twin got some Woky
I pour that s*it up, now I’m slowing my words
Get ’round these white folks speaking nothing but some business like I’m suburban
I don’t fu*k on none of these lil’ bitty b!tches, give ’em jobs, they working

[Outro]
Woah, woah
Woah, woah, woah
Woah, woah
Woah, woah, woah
Woah, woah
Woah, woah, woah