i can't feel my face (feat. Nechie) (Explicit)-Gunna/Nechie

[Intro: Gunna] Mhm, mhm Mhm, mhm (I can't feel my face) Mhm, mhm, mm Mhm, mhm, mhm [Chorus: Gunna] Still trim Tell 'em [?] they all him Audemars wrist, they know it's him I probably won the award (Mhm) Coupe with suicide doors (Mhm) Lil' bitty bitch don't know it's HAM I'm really rich, I don't do it for the 'Gram Now I drop heat like a torch (Mhm, mhm, mm) [Verse 1: Gunna] She say the Lamb' got her, uh, she say the Lamb' got her car sick I just throw it down, I'm 'bout to take her to pound, I give her hard dick I played around, feel like I'm takin' the crown, tell 'em to park it Stop in the city, me and bae go eatin' hibachi I seen your hand, certified [?] stone, jumpin' like a moshpit Still got a chance, number one, platinum and gold, I made a profit Choppin' in the Lamb', chop it and pull up to a plane, put it in a socket Wunna international, he know I'm doin' songs with Asake Goin' back home on ten, shit, back at my home where I'm sellin' all the rocks at And ski my cologne, still pushin', that's really goin' on, I'm gone with the process Even though this shit deeper than music, I know it's a process [Pre-Chorus: Gunna] Mhm, mhm Mhm, mhm, mm (I can't feel my face) Mhm, mhm, mm (Lamborghini, bad taste) Mhm, mhm, mhm (Bitch, fuck money, grind, sad way) [Chorus: Gunna] Still trim Tell 'em [?] they all him Audemars wrist, they know it's him I probably won the award (Mhm) Coupe with suicide doors (Mhm) Lil' bitty bitch don't know it's HAM I'm really rich, I don't do it for the 'Gram Now I drop heat like a torch (Mhm, mhm, mm) [Verse 2: Nechie] Got a plug on the bricks, now he stepped on You can tell by my neck that my check long Any hood that I step, they respect home Any day of the week, havin' stuff on New convertible, still got the roof on I put black and gray paint on a two-tone Now she fuckin' and suckin' the gang, woah (Oh) Double R push us (Double R) Hop out the suicide doors, I'm shovin' and pushin' (Shovin' that) Watch how the cameras flash, yeah, they pointin' and lookin' (Pointin' at) Look your bitch in the eyes (Yeah), she crack a smile, I know that she took it [Pre-Chorus: Gunna] Mhm, mhm Mhm, mhm, mm (I can't feel my face) Mhm, mhm, mm (Lamborghini, bad taste) Mhm, mhm, mhm (Bitch, fuck money, grind, sad way) [Chorus: Gunna] Still trim Tell 'em [?] they all him Audemars wrist, they know it's him I probably won the award (Mhm) Coupe with suicide doors (Mhm) Lil' bitty bitch don't know it's HAM I'm really rich, I don't do it for the 'Gram Now I drop heat like a torch (Mhm, mhm, mm)