Dip N Sauce Lyrics - Montana Of 300

[Chorus] 

Shawty see this sauce, I guess that's why she wanna dip though 

I'm who these bitches feel, they know the deal, they on my pickle 

Hope the way I drip these haters don't think I'm a lick though 

I can't afford to slip that's why I'm grippin' on my pistol 

I'm riding with that four-oh, oh-yeah-yeah-yeah 

I might take your hoe-oh-oh-yeah-yeah-yeah 

Pedal to the floor-oh-oh-yeah-yeah-yeah 

Racing to that dough-oh-oh-yeah-yeah-yeah 

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[Verse] 

Headed to them dollar signs 

Big ol' 40 on my side 

Whippin', grippin', on her thighs 

Shawty blow me while I drive 

I'm connected, that's my word like written in cursive 

Gucci shades, lookin' clean up in them glasses, dish detergent 

I'm Scott Hall and I'm Curt Hennig 

Clothes is dripping, Mr. Perfect 

Bitch, I'm splurging, bad bitch slurping, I hope I don't get to swervin' (woo) 

I be gettin' brain while I'm switchin' lanes 

Feelin' like the rain, drip on everything 

I'm flyer than a plane, he think shit a game 

He must wanna feel the rain like he Eddie Cane 

You could get it, pistol grippin', I ain't slippin' 

Ghost Busters, I was trappin', all them niggas called me Winston 

Bitch, I am of no religion, but my Louboutins are Christian 

Got that bag, you know I'm drippin' 

When I tee up, it ain't Lipton 

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[Chorus] 

Shawty see this sauce, I guess that's why she wanna dip though 

I'm who these bitches feel, they know the deal, they on my pickle 

Hope the way I drip these haters don't think I'm a lick though 

I can't afford to slip that's why I'm grippin' on my pistol 

I'm riding with that four-oh, oh-yeah-yeah-yeah 

I might take your hoe-oh-oh-yeah-yeah-yeah 

Pedal to the floor-oh-oh-yeah-yeah-yeah 

Racing to that dough-oh-oh-yeah-yeah-yeah 

[Verse 2] 

Girl, put your two feet up 

Slide up in that pussy with like two fingers and make it juicier 

She throwin' deuces up 

She left her ex and met the executioner 

I got them other niggas faded like a Boosie cut 

Girl, we gon give 'em hell like they was Lucifer, now cut the music 

It's just the two of us and my 40 cal, you know it move with us 

Don't ruin my money, all she wanna do is fuck 

Just tell your ex he better keep it cool because I will shoot shit up 

She said God sent the male of her dreams, but I'm just racing to that door like the bell from the ring 

She said she can't wait til we get home to get this dick though 

Chokeslam a bitch up on a bed, I think I'm Big Show 

Pull her back and cock it, now she bustin' like my pistol 

Right after that we get dough, you know how this shit go 

[Chorus] 

Shawty see this sauce, I guess that's why she wanna dip though 

I'm who these bitches feel, they know the deal, they on my pickle 

Hope the way I drip these haters don't think I'm a lick though 

I can't afford to slip that's why I'm grippin' on my pistol 

I'm riding with that four-oh, oh-yeah-yeah-yeah 

I might take your hoe-oh-oh-yeah-yeah-yeah 

Pedal to the floor-oh-oh-yeah-yeah-yeah 

Racing to that dough-oh-oh-yeah-yeah-yeah