Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Composure! , by - Autumn!. Release date: 04.03.2019
Song language: English
Composure! |
| Yeah |
| Yuh, yuh |
| I pour the lean right up in my soda |
| Designer jeans, this ain’t Fashion Nova |
| She wanna fuck? |
| Then, baby, come over |
| Can’t let these niggas fuck up my composure |
| Snakes in the grass so I keep the mower |
| She love my Ricks, yeah, she love my Owens |
| Pockets they fat, yeah, just like Samoans |
| That nigga broke, that’s why I don’t know 'em |
| Copy my swag, yeah, that boy, he stole it |
| Can’t fuck with me, I done already told 'em |
| Can’t fuck with me, I done already showed 'em |
| Talkin' that shit like I wouldn’t notice |
| Bitch, I’m the shit, you already know this |
| I don’t fuck with you, don’t send me no opens |
| I’m sippin' DJ Phat, off the opiates |
| I swear, these niggas my clones |
| Bad white bitch, she all in my phone |
| I do this shit, yeah, all on my own |
| I’m boutta' blow, yeah, this shit is prone |
| Smokin' your dead man, yeah, that’s my cologne |
| I mix the Helmut Lang with the Vlone |
| She say «Lovin My Fashion! |
| «, that’s her favorite song |
| These niggas mad that I’m finna be on |
| Just hit my phone, when you finna be home? |
| Girl, you know I ain’t finna be long |
| Try me, yeah, that boy gon' be gone |
| He want free smoke, nigga, come on |
| Try me, be like, nigga, come on |
| .223 gon' send that boy home |
| I pour the lean right up in my soda |
| Designer jeans, this ain’t Fashion Nova |
| She wanna fuck? |
| Then, baby, come over |
| Can’t let these niggas fuck up my composure |
| Snakes in the grass so I keep the mower |
| She love my Ricks, yeah, she love my Owens |
| Pockets they fat, yeah, just like Samoans |
| That nigga broke, that’s why I don’t know 'em |
| Copy my swag, yeah, that boy, he stole it |
| Can’t fuck with me, I done already told 'em |
| Can’t fuck with me, I done already showed 'em |
| Talkin' that shit like I wouldn’t notice |
| Bitch, I’m the shit, you already know this |
| I don’t fuck with you, don’t send me no opens |
| I’m sippin' DJ Phat, off the opiates |
| I pour the lean right up in my soda |
| Designer jeans, this ain’t Fashion Nova |
| She wanna fuck? |
| Then, baby, come over |
| Can’t let these niggas fuck up my composure |
| Snakes in the grass so I keep the mower |
| She love my Ricks, yeah, she love my Owens |
| Pockets they fat, yeah, just like Samoans |
| That nigga broke, that’s why I don’t know 'em |
| Copy my swag, yeah, that boy, he stole it |
| Can’t fuck with me, I done already told 'em |
| Can’t fuck with me, I done already showed 'em |
| Talkin' that shit like I wouldn’t notice |
| Bitch, I’m the shit, you already know this |
| I don’t fuck with you, don’t send me no opens |
| I’m sippin' DJ Phat |