Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Last Minute, artist - Molly Brazy. Date of issue: 05.02.2018
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Last Minute |
| Uh grew up in that rugrat era, we was bay bay’s |
| With the shits |
| Quick to hop on tip like Sha-Nay-Nay good times, JJ |
| Choppa behind the dryer, knowing mama do laundry |
| Rodney was playing with fire who snitch |
| You can’t say that with a serious face |
| You phone snatchers |
| Bitch my brother fought a serious case, homicide |
| That’s why I rock them red bottoms with spikes and drive the porsche like I’m |
| blind |
| Never stoppin at lights |
| Okay speaking facts i buy gucci like its dish detergent |
| You basic bitches still basic with a plastic surgeon |
| Tell my jeweler its urgent I’m about to catch a flight |
| So much water on me flooded like a busted pipe |
| The whitest bust in the city, put that on Elvis |
| Don’t even try to take em off me, niggas know im selfish |
| FN With a scope, it play peek-a-boo |
| I need to see a therapist cuz i can’t keep a roof |
| I heard that they don’t like how me and trina cool |
| Let these bitches tell it bro thats Trina coupe |
| French Vanilla no chaser fucking up the session |
| I put up 20 bro I’m hooping like he know i’m betting |
| Another win under my belt, no y’all can’t fuck with me |
| Give me some space, I don’t want these bitches touching me |
| Probably got the cooties with yo broke ass, no bag |
| Still wearing prada that shit so sad |
| Im convinced yall content and i ain’t satisfied |
| I blew eleven in Sax and I got back in line |
| Since the boys got indicted, I don’t check and grind |
| Cuz the feds knew too much, and they ain tap the line |
| Molly think she that, Molly think she this |
| But if it ain’t about money, Molly ain’t think it’s shit |
| Louis, Ferro in my hair, and it’s last minute |
| You know I got the juice, bitch my swag dripping |
| Back to back in the Forbes, me and Kash trippin |
| Ima bitch cuz yeen hit? |
| Is you mad, nigga? |
| You pathetic and your pockets anorexic |
| I could lose it all and I wouldn’t even fucking stress it |
| Get them haters on the line, send them boys your way |
| Strip em naked, we rock Louis, let him keep his J’s |
| How you doing? |
| Let that Glock .40 meet your face |
| You mention me, now we gon shoot til you delete your page |
| I can’t beef witchu, you never left the city |
| Ain’t ever trapping, we hit Philly just to pop some wheelies |
| Airplane Miami tho when the D get cold |
| In Dubai getting sand in my pinky toes |
| You bum bitch, your bag empty like your ring finger |
| And you a monkey so I know you not the ringleader |
| Tell your boss tell her boss that I’m my own boss |
| Molly Brazy got more rings than a phone call |
| Congratulations you the biggest hoe- no wait |
| Congratulations, you the biggest joke, you broke |
| I’ll spit on you, I’ll shit on you |
| And when I empty the clip, bitch that’s the end of you |
| Molly look what you made, look what you created |
| Clip long, temper shorter than abbreviations |
| Louis, Ferro in my hair, and it’s last minute |
| You know I got the juice, bitch my swag dripping |
| Trendsetter, all these hoes wanna be like me |
| I’m boutta start texting rats, I want my cheese |
| Jeweler left me in the cold, he wanna see me freeze |
| Bought a Cartier bracelet to complement the links |
| Eyes chink cuz I’m higher than a condo |
| Acting macho get your face blown pronto |
| Hoes messier than taco’s, and I can’t deal |
| Say whatever for a name, man the thirst real, forreal |
| Hurt feels, hurt kills, hurt steals |
| I ain’t playing, watch who you exchange words with |
| I confirm hits and send them pistols to your old bro’s crib |