[Lil Skies] Blame on me, no shame on you No shame on you, blame on me no Ayy, ayy Blame on me, no, shame on you (on you) No, you can't hide the truth I'ma slide right through your roof (your roof) Might pop a pill or two Let them hate, we chuck the deuce (the deuce) Fuck that, we gettin' loose Pussy sweeter than some juice (some juice) I slurp it like it's soup Ayy, she a naughty type on the weekend But tonight she gon' let me start to creep in Baby goin' offense, I'm playin' defense You on top, I swear that's the perfect sequence, ooh 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 (aye) 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 playin' 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 (oh my) Put my hand on your thighs (your thighs) If I come through tonight (tonight) I'll make you touch the sky (the sky) Don't need to wink my eye (my eye) No, I'm not even playin' (I'm not playin') You know just what I'm sayin' (what I'm sayin') Got you and all you cravings Blame on me, no, shame on you (on you) No, you can't hide the truth I'ma slide right through your roof (your roof) Might pop a pill or two Let them hate, we chuck the deuce (the deuce) Fuck that, we gettin' loose Pussy sweeter than some juice (some juice) I slurp it like it's soup Ayy, she a naughty type on the weekend But tonight she gon' let me start to creep in Baby goin' offense, I'm playin' defense You on top, I swear that's the perfect sequence, ooh [Rich The Kid] 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 (water), head real smarter (head) They into bitches from Florida, you probably can't afford her Bentley truck might park the coupe, I'm livin' 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 leakin', she leakin' 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 [Lil Skies] Blame on me, no, shame on you (on you) No, you can't hide the truth I'ma slide right through your roof (your roof) Might pop a pill or two Let them hate, we chuck the deuce (the deuce) Fuck that, we gettin' loose Pussy sweeter than some juice (some juice) I slurp it like it's soup Ayy, she a naughty type on the weekend But tonight she gon' let me start to creep in Baby goin' offense, I'm playin' defense You on top, I swear that's the perfect sequence, ooh