Lyrics

Hey Bean Dip Drivin home... You put this song out, I listened to a little bit of it I wasn't quite gettin it, so I called your brother And he said it's really good I go, "it is?" He goes, "yeah, it's really good." So, anyway If you miss me, send me a letter Thelonious... Woo! I'm just tryna stay on point like it's ballet You could never buy my spot it's not valet You can never steal my spot I'm no dalmay- You could never reach my spot you're still a mile away Child wait - Get your mittens off my cookie jar The pussy playin hooky you can't catch it like a Pokémon You're the hare, I'm the tortoise tryna hold you off Even if you're fast you can't fake the race, Rachel Dolezal Ooh! Shots Ooh! Round's on me, wait-- Ooh! Stop no chaser on three One for the homies, two for the past, Three for the lipstick print you can leave on my ass I know that they miss me, they ain't gotta like it Like when they were stalking my page And then accidentally liked it That's how I know, little drop in the Oc' It's a yacht, not a boat She's a god, not a pope What's a crop to a goat Or a blo to 'Casso Or a dodge to 'Lago Or a dart to a bow What's a prop to a throne when you're not going home 'Til you got the parliament on the motherfuckin phone I'm not here for playdates or wait-waits or raw steaks If I'm gonna dip my toe in at the pool I'll buy the whole place And open it up to everybody 'cuz I'm not keeping score 'Cuz I've got the privilege man I'm opening the door And that's what's wrong with white pride Y'all can't admit it You didn't work for your skin color or dick That shit was given to ya Hallelujah! On Sundays I praise the truth You bitch you, I'm on top Making big moves in a crystal When I whistle it's a big tune Might miss one I don't miss two If I kiss you might forget you When I switch dudes I'm a bitch, boo Spit pistols, I'm not talking packing heat like an igloo I'm lethal, welcome to my house of pain, bitch Woah, too close you get burnt like a blank disc Wait, woah This is as bad as the bad gets, oh no For my sisters who stuck as a waitress, I know You don't really wanna jump ship, grab rope You gon' wanna witness this shit, lord knows I'm at the top of the waitlist let's go First I graduate then I'm making these hits, boy!
Writer(s): Isaac Hayes, Sina Holwerda Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
instagramSharePathic_arrow_out