| I see you sis, doing your ting
|
| Frontal hella laid and your edges on swim
|
| And you too fly to be stressing ‘bout him
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| You worked till five and you still made gym?
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| Damn, you’s a boss bitch
|
| Make a man move mad like a moshpit
|
| Had a dream about Benz so she copped it
|
| She want a big bag, she want a profit ugh
|
| And you ain’t felt like yourself in a while
|
| You find it hella hard just to crack a likkle smile
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| And she a single mum, but she still hold it down
|
| Baby daddy is a bum, he ain’t really been around, no
|
| What? |
| Fuck him anyways
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| He must be mad if he think he’ll get a better babe
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| I see them girls hating on you, ‘cause you getting paid
|
| She playing niggas outchea, she ain’t getting played
|
| Doesn’t matter what they say no
|
| You’re the one, they gotta wait for
|
| Cause from waist down, to the way up
|
| Let ‘em hate on ya
|
| Don’t worry you can style on them
|
| Style on them, style on them
|
| Don’t worry you can style on them
|
| Style on them, style on them
|
| If they sleeping on you sis, it’s all good let ‘em sleep (Sleep, sleep)
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| They’ll soon wake up
|
| She love ah twerk when she putting on her makeup
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| She too real, she don’t deal with all the fake stuff forreal
|
| And I know uni stressing you
|
| And that money in your pocket been stretching too
|
| You just wanna pree the net and cop a dress or two
|
| Thinking twice if it’s wise, ‘cause the rent is due, yeah
|
| But keep going, you gon' get there in the end
|
| Soon be an ayy girl again with your friends
|
| Banging all nighters but you still look peng
|
| Graduated with a first, babygirl you’s a ten
|
| Hair’s all done and your nails on fleek
|
| And you need a real one, I know that shit ain’t cheap
|
| Spend a few bills just to keep your shit neat
|
| About «Come round» and he ain’t tryna take you out to eat?
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| She got standards it don’t mean that she a gold digger
|
| She just know that weren’t made for no broke nigga
|
| Make sure your ting is fully patterned when approaching her
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| She got her eyes on the prize, she a go-getter
|
| Don’t let ‘em tell you that your waist ain’t cutie
|
| You don’t need no figure eight or a big booty
|
| You got a good heart sis that’s what I call beauty
|
| And when they get you down, you bounce back like a true G
|
| Doesn’t matter what they say no
|
| You’re the one, they gotta wait for
|
| Cause from waist down, to the way up
|
| Let ‘em hate on ya
|
| Don’t worry you can style on them
|
| Style on them, style on them
|
| Don’t worry you can style on them
|
| Style on them, style on them
|
| Doesn’t matter what they say no
|
| You’re the one, they gotta wait for
|
| Cause from waist down, to the way up
|
| Let ‘em hate on ya
|
| Don’t worry you can style on them
|
| Style on them, style on them
|
| Don’t worry you can style on them
|
| Style on them, style on them |