| Got a good thing goin' with a bad bitch
|
| You know who to call when you need it
|
| Wish I had another you, I’m greedy
|
| Sometimes like that nigga get greedy
|
| Got damn I fell in love with a bad bitch
|
| You know that every time you leave me
|
| Even though I know how men be talkin'
|
| I just know that nigga wanna be me
|
| Came in here and fell in love with a bad bitch
|
| Back then she ain’t have shit
|
| Now she grown up, she got ass, tits
|
| Wanna know where she got that ass at
|
| She hit my heart, a toot, toot on it
|
| She got a dump truck, I put a boot on it
|
| Don’t mind spendin' this loot on it
|
| Treat her like my whip, I put some shoes on her
|
| Got a dump truck, put a boot on her
|
| I don’t mind trickin', spendin' loot on her
|
| Walk up in the club, and toot, toot on her
|
| She’s a bad bitch, put shoes on her
|
| God damn, fell in love with a bad bitch
|
| Said, «French, take me to Paris»
|
| Dominican mami from Cali
|
| I said, «Gon' bend it over, let me grab it»
|
| I said, «Gon' bend it over, make it nasty»
|
| Walked up in the club, rollin', Stevie Wonder glasses
|
| I ain’t lookin' at you niggas, lookin' way past you
|
| Young, fly, G’s up, pocket full of cash
|
| You know where to find me, you know when you need me
|
| All my dogs eat, they’ll tell you I ain’t greedy
|
| I ain’t gon' love her, too much to leave her
|
| I ain’t goin' public, surely is easy
|
| Pull up with my niggas, make a move
|
| Red light, green light, no it ain’t Gucci
|
| Used to walk up in the store, couldn’t afford that
|
| Now I walk up in the store, buyin' all that
|
| Drink it to the head, man, nigga feelin' woozy
|
| Pull up in the old school, boy I’m on some new shit
|
| Red to the head, man we gettin' all that
|
| And shorty phone answers, she don’t ever call back
|
| And I can see why these niggas hate me
|
| Pull up in a drop and the watch 80
|
| Pull up to the front but a nigga faded
|
| Got a new crib and the shit gated
|
| Came from the bottom, watch a nigga ball out
|
| Drink it to the head, smoke 'til you fall out
|
| Countin' up this money, nigga, keep the door locked
|
| All my niggas gettin' to this money, no lie |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Nothing to Thing About, artist - French Montana. Album song Cocaine Konvicts, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп