Lyrics W.C.W - Page Kennedy, Kuniva

W.C.W

There she goes
Posing in front of a toothpaste-stained mirror
One ass cheek on the sink, LOL-ing
In the meantime, Momma’s in the background, yelling
«Better get these kids!
I’m tired of watching 'em!
And I know damn well you ain’t about to leave out again with Shaquan and them!
Trifling ass!
Better bring my car back filled with gas
And be up on time in the morning to get these kids to class!»
She ain’t listening: she’s on the 'Gram, 'bout to make herself a meme
Posting up, «Too blessed to be stressed» with a gang of typos in between
Wanna run with them ballers
Hoping one day, one of them will call her over to the section
Only thing she gets is Skee-Lo-type niggas: wish they were a little bit taller
Oh well, she gon' roll with it anyway
Selfie stick, duckface
Waist trainers strapped on like duct tape
Flossed out in the parking lot, flicking it in front of somebody’s Mustang,
like «Cheese!»
All for the likes
Hashtags longer than fake lashes
Make-up looking like more clay than Cassius
Look like the doll from the movie Saw (so tragic)
Before you think about a double-tap
Go through all of her pictures, double back!
Her bed’s sitting up like a Barney Rubble mat
That’s a concrete slab, but you loving that
What you don’t know is
Your WCW be tripping
Your WCW don’t bathe right
Your WCW be tweeting from an air mattress, talking slick
Her private parts ain’t shaved right
Your WCW is homeless
Your WCW’s a swallower
Her mama’s disappointed, her man beat her
She’s turning up and barely sees her kids, but has a million followers
I was wondering why every time I log on
It used to be awesome
Now the feeling is all gone
It’s loud as a foghorn
She want me to suffer, pull out the sharp thorn
But she keeps on posting these doggone, hot pics!
Hot chicks get likes 'cause they got tits
She my ex, but when she posts Instagrams, she stick it to me like chopsticks
I’m so thirsty for it to be Thursday
She could be magic, and wouldn’t be worthy
All these ups and downs, jumping around, dropping the pounds, making the sounds,
fall on the ground
FUCK BURPEES!
And fuck Slurpees!
I’mma keep coming back in the end, my friend: I’m butt herpes!
You’re my Woman Crush Wednesday, comprende?
I don’t give a fuck, slut!
HEARD ME?!!
All the followers you got, will not, stop or kill my true plot
It’s got, to be all the hearts, all the darts
That I throw at your photos, seeing 'em all falling apart
The irony of ironing in Ireland
As I pretend that my revenge
Has nothing to do with this crying binge happening at this Ireland inn
Woo!
Hotel, jotting down hoe tales
From a hoe that I thot I know so well
And I said «thot» on purpose
'Cause I thought a thot purpose was to be worthless
I’m not a stalker: I’m just good at hoe-watching!
I’m going for it: I’m a quarterback with no option
I’m not throwing you away, I’mma keep it!
My Woman Crush Wednesday little secret
Your WCW be tripping
Your WCW don’t bathe right
Your WCW be tweeting from an air mattress, talking slick
Her private parts ain’t shaved right
Your WCW is homeless
Your WCW’s a swallower
Her mama’s disappointed, her man beat her
She’s turning up and barely sees her kids, but has a million followers