| Beauty Dior, Cherokee, Pinky
|
| Roxy Reynolds bouncing on the steps, slinky
|
| Give her something white and filled with cream, twinkie
|
| Leave her blinded semen in her eyes, blinky
|
| So it seems
|
| Can’t even believe I used that flow I’m outta Queens
|
| Off the hooker strip boulevard of dreams
|
| Runways are getting trains stealing credit cards and schemes
|
| She was laying on the floor with honey mustard on her sleeves
|
| I said get up then she got up, get up in this whip bitch
|
| We bout to smoke this pot up plus I got some white
|
| You could be the first to taste the product, just a little dirty
|
| Had the body of a model, sent a message in a bottle
|
| Tell my man set the bed up, he built a wooden room quick
|
| Went to the tool shed, got on his hammer, nail, and screw shit
|
| Now we livin' lavish eaten salmon on a cruise ship
|
| Laying in a hammock getting hammered with a jew bitch
|
| We want no drama, come here mama
|
| Dale y mamar (yo come here baby girl)
|
| Please don’t get so wild, keep the chrome cal
|
| Te deja explotar (don't get bodied homie)
|
| Eso te mata, cool it papa
|
| Echate pa' tras (move back gimme space)
|
| I’m up in my zone, hoes pass tha ron
|
| Esto ta cabron (shit crazy)
|
| Yo just roll my dutches, prep my outfit for the party
|
| Spray my body with aromas, got the ladies actin naughty
|
| Fine fabric delegates my people far from celibate
|
| Hardly delicate highly skilled with much intelligence
|
| Walk in the place jacket hangin' past the calves
|
| Play the shorts in every season corner schemes get turned to math on some
|
| 5 in the mornin' shit, she looking flyer than anyone on that bitch
|
| Ocean high yeah I’m on that shit muthafucka (?) when I’m on that shit
|
| Pop pop tops of the Clicquot time to raise our glass up
|
| Right out the bottle, with a model, with amazing asses
|
| Wipe off the ashes, 16 flavors (?) butter
|
| Rose out the gutter, we stand around lenses shutter
|
| Ladies grindin' all up on my dickie
|
| Cause we gorgeous we forage the forest
|
| I’m destined for greatness we ballin regardless
|
| I’m heartless so baby tell me what you wanna do
|
| (I wanna suck it 'til my mouth’s filled with cum from you)
|
| 20 below the bitch seen walkin' the strip
|
| With that pink gloss on her lip
|
| And that big cross on her tits
|
| And she frontin' like she religious but stay stalkin' a dick
|
| Goin right at the head like some steamed crawfish n shit
|
| She know up in the club for years fuck for bagels
|
| Her face is weathered like the rain that fall in April
|
| And in her pants she got a loaf of bread
|
| You know the yeast she never go to bed
|
| She rather dope or head
|
| I just don’t get it cause Mercedes was a honey
|
| All the ballers wanna fuck her buy her mink and give her money
|
| Her facials disappearin' and her nose is always runny
|
| Dentistry is twisted like the grill that’s on a monkey
|
| Lower body skinny, upper body husky
|
| Call em linebackers she’s a character a junkie
|
| Still, she pop it and the people throw the pennies
|
| Plus I’m here to watch her give the team a bunch of hennies cuz |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Miss Fordham Road (86' 87' 88) , by - Action Bronson. Song from the album Well Done, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп