text: Self-Obsessed Lyrics
  Eight
  BeatFreakz
  Eight-eight-eight in the pot, self-obsessed
  Now she want some more, legs open
  Took her to Dior
  Shoulda went a jewelers, get your diamonds pure
  Say she wanna fuck a drug dealer
  Sellin crack, but I smoke reefer
  Playin chess on my Louis V concorde
  Baby, we might fuck, but I dont need ya
  I be thinkin bout the pussy just before I crash the Porsche
  Ima eat that pussy, baby, you aint gotta talk
  If you want the bag, baby, suck my dick before
  I spent too much bands in Dior-or-or
  But the AP plain cost me 30k
  Girl, I hate it when our loves feelin strange
  Paid cash for the car, this the Range
  If I ever said I love, you then I think Ive gone insane
  Yeah, nigga run off with some grub, I made him run it back
  Long story short, made the boy do the Running Man
  Ha, make sure you pay it back
  Three litres of blood, swapped it for couple grams
  Told her that I dont even get high 
  Shoulda saw her face when I crushed a Xan
  C-C, hit your top and fly
  Every bitch wanna fuck a man
  Eight-eight-eight in the pot, self-obsessed
  Now she want some more, legs open
  Took her to Dior
  Shoulda went a jewelers, get your diamonds pure
  Say she wanna fuck a drug dealer
  Sellin crack, but I smoke reefer
  Playin chess on my Louis V concorde
  Baby, we might fuck, but I dont need ya
  I didnt trap, but look how far Ive gone from it
  Both wrists rose from it, cause I spent wads on it
  You see this money? Im sure you dont get lost in it
  Or now shes tryna regain her consciousness
  She gimme compliments, but Im confident
  I dont cooperate, I face the consequence
  See a opp and dip him like he dyin documents
  In every single field, he dominant
  Them man I saw broke, I dont think we breathe the same oxygen
  Street nigga, but I fly across the continent
  Dressed in Dolce and and cause Im orderin a bit of lobster and
  Gettin my chin stroked by a hottie
  Reminiscin bout the times that I gotta pew and cony
  Im self-obsessed and I aint sorry
  Four pockets full, lookin like a nigga won the lottery
  Eight-eight-eight in the pot, self-obsessed
  Now she want some more, legs open
  Took her to Dior
  Shoulda went a jewelers, get your diamonds pure
  Say she wanna fuck a drug dealer
  Sellin crack, but I smoke reefer
  Playin chess on my Louis V concorde
  Baby, we might fuck, but I dont need ya
  Sorcerer; the food that I had werent gourmet
  Sold out tours, need more dates 
  Mad cause your girl keeps eyein man
  Before I hammer it, I start with the foreplay
  Youre in strangers pictures, commentin
  If you knew what I gross, youd be vomitin 
  My bro from Brum had it local 
  Cause these youts talk bad, but its not in em, haha 
  Wrist on igloo , this one here is discontinued
  Tables, designer labels, horsepower got the car unstable 
  It depends on the mood Im in
  Tell the young Gs go move to him 
  New babes in my front room hooverin 
  When they talk about chrome, they just Googlin
  Lifes changed, niggas know what we used to do
  Now Im in a showroom, lookin for a Ghost like Scooby Doo
  Blud, dont gas nothin, you aint gonna crash nothin
  See you with the Pokemon, we aint gonna ash nothin 
  He took a L, b, when he came to the block 
  Cause he never adds nothin 
  I am from the drip, from the hard knocks 
  Drag you out your whip, call him Carlos 
  Itll get reckless, real-life top boys
  Look alive if we pull up on your block, boy
  Big bro had the bootcuts with a huge dotty 
  Horseshoe on his jeans, thats a true story 
  Fuck these niggas, I dont rate one of them 
  P.s., suck your mum again
  Eight-eight-eight in the pot, self-obsessed
  Now she want some more, legs open
  Took her to Dior
  Shoulda went a jewelers, get your diamonds pure
  Say she wanna fuck a drug dealer
  Sellin crack, but I smoke reefer
  Playin chess on my Louis V concorde
  Baby, we might fuck, but I dont need yaEmbed