You, you, you, youuu.
(x10) Whippin’ in the car with you, you, you.
Wrist, wrist, wrist, whippin’ in the car with you.
Too real for the waters, how you make me puke
If it’s past two, I can’t look at you (f*ck it)
Chanel bag, cop it, I don’t f*ckin’ want it
But I will ’cause you’re too true
Poppin’ on your voicemail goin’ dumb
I don’t need that bullsh*t in your wallet.
I got a problem and it sucks, boy
F*ckboy, thought I told you not to hit me up
Phone lit, past three, see you say what’s up
O.T., I’m in love with the f*ckboys
Whippiiin’ in the car with you, you, you
It’s good luck, when I’m like, “Oh, what’s up with you?”
(x10) Whippiiin’ in the car with you, you, you.
No-no-no-no, hey, I still f*ck with you
Don’t hit me past one ’cause I might come
I’m just bein’ real, can I keep it real?
Way too many feels, way too many feels