Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Blastoff , by - Internet Money. Release date: 22.10.2020
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Blastoff |
| Internet Money, bitch |
| Hahahaha, Nick, you’re stupid |
| Baby, come and have a blast with me |
| Do everything I say like your majesty |
| Fuck with the gang and it be a tragedy |
| Fuck with my shooters, they in the back with me |
| Fuck with me baby, come get this bag with me |
| Been alone for a minute, that shit been dragging me |
| Craving your love, it’s heart-attacking me |
| Tryna get in that pussy, baby, that mac and cheese |
| I cannot show these bitches no sympathy |
| Or these niggas, they simps and they hella bitch to me |
| I was just fortunate, got the remedy |
| Fuck that bitch and then dip, I got them chips to receive, yeah |
| Baby, come and have a blast with me |
| Do everything I say like your majesty |
| Fuck with the gang and it be a tragedy |
| Fuck with my shooters, they in the back with me (Uh) |
| You picked that knife up and you stabbin' me |
| Wish it was a paper cut, but it’s a gash, I bleed out |
| And the way you keep harassin' me |
| It’s a shame this the way that it has to be, oh |
| Uh, yeah, time is of the essence |
| You know damn well you bring hell, I should call a reverend |
| Devil horns on a angel, still haven’t learned my lesson (Uh) |
| We’re a mess and our life’s a wreck (Hey) |
| Toxic, toxic, toxic |
| The most beautiful things grow old and start rottin' |
| I should’ve turned away when I found out you were demonic |
| Let’s be honest, you’re the devil’s daughter |
| Say hey to your father, uh, he owe me twenty dollars |
| We gon' run through hell with like twenty-hundred choppers |
| We gon' give 'em hell and I put that on my mama |
| Me and Trippie Redd boolin' back in the Bahamas |
| Baby, come and have a blast with me |
| Do everything I say like your majesty |
| Fuck with the gang and it be a tragedy |
| Fuck with my shooters, they in the back with me |
| Fuck with me baby, come get this bag with me |
| Been alone for a minute, that shit been dragging me |
| Craving your love, it’s heart-attacking me |
| Tryna get in that pussy, baby, that mac and cheese |
| Gang, gang, gang |
| Probably fuckin' your mama |
| Three K on my wrist like André |
| Servin' like entrée |
| Ha, huh, you dig? |
| You dig? |
| You dig? |