Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song 1997 DIANA, artist - BROCKHAMPTON. Date of issue: 27.07.2018
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
1997 DIANA |
| Niggas talk shit, talk a whole lot of shit |
| Need to stop talking shit and give us more, more |
| Niggas talk shit, talk a whole lot of shit |
| Need to stop talking shit and give us more, more |
| Niggas talk shit, talk a whole lot of shit |
| Need to stop talking shit and give us more, more |
| Niggas talk shit, talk a whole lot of shit |
| Need to stop talking shit and give us more, more, more |
| Kiss the shoulder, hop in the Corolla |
| These bitches talkin' shit like the bottom of porta-potties |
| Bright ass yellow teeth, you a shit talker, gossip |
| Legs movin' like a salsa dancer |
| Drunk, fallin' out ya car like a flaccid dick |
| Aww man, god damn, what the fuck wrong with ya? |
| Say it to my face, pussy ass boy |
| Need a Altoid for your hot breath, life a hot mess |
| Pop your biceps, cue the roid rage |
| I think I got like five more albums inside my mind |
| This that shit, that do or die, make your grandmama cry |
| Keep some baggy jeans on me, keep a Billie Jean on me |
| Got that New Orleans on me, smellin' like a queen to ya |
| Cu—cu—cucumber lemonade, I need something fresh today |
| Barber make the texture fade, actin' out like it’s charades |
| Strawberry sweater fleece, baby, give me something sweet |
| We don’t gotta be discreet, moonwalking between the seats |
| Hit on that beat and then stop (Ahh!) |
| Hop on that booty like who the hell cutie |
| Like I don’t know cootie |
| My momma ain’t raise no bitch ass |
| Ain’t no kiss ass, ain’t no— |
| Get the fuck out of my face now |
| Get the fuck out of my way now |
| You are so far off my level |
| Stop! |
| In the barber shop with my niggas, ay |
| I ain’t never soft for my nigga, ay |
| I ain’t never copy no nigga, ay |
| So quit talkin', bitch nigga, (quit yo talkin', bitch) ay |
| Ay, I wanna buy a Jeep, ay, that’s my energy |
| Trilogy, that’s history, Southside, baby, rest in peace! |
| Uh, lordy lordy, testify, yeah |
| Got explosives in my mind, yeah |
| Search for feelings I can’t find, yeah |
| I’m a ghost because I grind, yeah |
| Made a deal with Father Time, yeah |
| Told me «Find a way to shine,» yeah |
| «I can make you live forever |
| All you gotta do is dance until you die,» yeah |
| Niggas talk shit, talk a whole lot of shit |
| Need to stop talking shit and give us more, more |
| Niggas talk shit, talk a whole lot of shit |
| Need to stop talking shit and give us more, more |
| Niggas talk shit, talk a whole lot of shit |
| Need to stop talking shit and give us more, more |
| Niggas talk shit, talk a whole lot of shit |
| Need to stop talking shit and give us more, more, more |
| Ten, nine, eight, seven, six, five, four, three, two, one, yay! |