Lyrics Cold Grits - hooligan chase

Cold Grits - hooligan chase
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Cold Grits, artist - hooligan chase. Album song Bodyache, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 19.09.2019
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: hooligan chase
Song language: English

Cold Grits

Yeah, uh
(Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy)
Man y’all bitch boys need to put your damn tampons in, I’m sick of this shit
(Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy)
I ain’t having it
My old bitch on that old shit
Momma said you’s a whole bitch
Always kept my lil' shoes tied
I had bitches in '06 (Uh-huh)
Wait a sec, let me boast a bit
I go harder than cold grits (Yeah)
Deuce deuces and four-fifths (Yeah)
Accessories for your dope fits
Holy fuck, oh shit
Make space between both lips
Toilet talking, we go together
Big booties, no tits (No tits)
Know that you getting wavy (Wavy)
When you feel the whole boat shift
I was talking that pay me
You was talking that broke shit
Hit your bitch, Ken Griffey stance
Workin man in these Dickies pants
Walk a mile without shoes
I doubt you could fit these pants
You look like a tacoma owner
I’m Ferarri F-50 and (F-50)
Hoes say it’s a close shave
Standing close, he might getchu tan (Yeah, yeah)
Yeah, as a matter of fact, I would
Mister Jehovah witness, I’m good (Good)
That’s your wife like «Ugh» (Ugh)
Had to pry her off of my wood (Wood)
And i ain’t taking no shit today (No Sir)
Buzzer beater, I’ma hit my J (Yes sir)
New bitches go different ways (Different, different, uh)
Wayne and Gucci, I’m steady mobbin' (Woo)
Apple bucket, she steady bobbin' (Woo)
I’m a modern-day Eddie Robbins
Really tryna put the weed down 'cause it feel like I’m doing heavy jogging
Soccer moms wanna dance with me like it’s '84 and I’m Kenny Loggins (Yeah,
Kenny, ayy)
A lot of you bitches be evil, might as well act evil (Yeah)
Fuck it, I’m making some big moves, Max Keeble (Yeah)
Muhfuckas be talking 'bout gas I’m calling my pack diesel (Huh?)
Who knew that I could be that lethal (Who the fuck)
I’m at yo head, wave cap
Flying American Airlines
Me and your baby go way back, like my motherfucking hairline
Jump out the gym, Nate Rob
Check the muhfuckin' airtime
My bitch is something like Kate Moss
Call me the muhfuckin' cake boss (Yeah!)
My old bitch on that old shit
Momma said you’s a whole bitch
Always kept my lil' shoes tied
I had bitches in '06 (Uh-huh)
Wait a sec, let me boast a bit
I go harder than cold grits (Yeah)
Deuce deuces and four-fifths (Yeah)
Accessories for your dope fits
Holy fuck, oh shit
Make space between both lips
Toilet talking, we go together
Big booties, no tits (No tits)
Know that you getting wavy (Wavy)
When you feel the whole boat shift
I was talking that pay me
You was talking that broke shit (You was talking that broke shit)

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Artist lyrics: hooligan chase