Paroles

Double B shit, nigga Yeah (top bird) (Swi-Swishrr beats, cash money shit) Come on, man, turn me up I'm through with allat talkin' (this shit like Pluto and Esco) He-he, he-he Bitch niggas tryna buy promo Bitch, let me buy your catalog (brr, brr) What's all this talkin' 'bout a nigga fallin' off now? C'mon man, this just my demo, nigga Turn me up this my introduction, look (ha, ha, ha) Call my whip a groomer 'cause that bitch'll get to huggin' (woo) Love my fuckin' jeweler, 'cause he got my shit on yucky (Uh) Got my lil' bitch in Amiri She up in a mirror, she doin' her skin (skin) You quite frankly stupid, think I don't got money 'Cause, nigga, I ben (Ben Frank, nigga) Yeah, man, fuck allat talkin' Fuck allat rappin', man, let the success talk to these niggas man (I'ma call you back twin) Damn, this bitch so heavy (hmm), here it go I ain't gettin' lynched, I don't hang with niggas Fuck you thought this is? Thеy almost got switched out they light Fuckin' rapper, thеy was on that shit (hmm) Pop out I'm shootin' in my LV boots Bitch, I don't fuck with Rick (Hmm) I'm on that Elvis shit, I'm on that Rino shit Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah Feel like Michael when I put on them gloves I grip on them monkey nuts Bitch askin' questions, I shoulder shrug 'Cause I can't really tell em' much Even my everyday S-Class, it just cost me a honeybun (skrrt) Throwin' some racks like I'm Brady Then we just go to brunch (brunch, brunch) In Ohio, on some saucy shit, my nigga, I feel like Hunch (hunch) Told ya, big dawg shit, no lil' dawg shit Get the fuck on runt (get the fuck on now) I'm runnin' for president But when twenty niggas tried to get me I ain't run (come on bitch, you know me better than that, psh) I'll, put you in the back of the car, son (pshh, pshh) For tellin' them hoes, we can (pshh, pshh) All I gotta do is grin (pshh), for them to put you out (pshh) Bitch must go to the gym a lot (pshh) All she wanna do is push-up (pshh) Got your bitch on her knees, treesh Then I flew her ass back to Belize (pshh) They ain't wanna believe, mom in Chanel, please No bullets goin' through this big B nigga (brr) Shit I'm keepin' it P (woo) So many carats up on my finger, this my championship ring (Double B)
Writer(s): Deante A Johnson Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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