| I might just hit it raw, hold on, that’s not my element
|
| I like dark skins, love her melanin
|
| Huh, Christian Louboutin what I’m steppin' in
|
| Thirty bottles of Azul, tell 'em send 'em in
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| I had the Lambo', switch to the 'Rari
|
| I’m a gangster, but I like to party
|
| Pop a Perky, go retarded
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| I’m a Brooklyn nigga, I’m cold-hearted
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| That’s why I like the bad gyal (Woah), like RiRi (Wait)
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| Every time she see me, she wanna eat me (Hold on)
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| I saw like Justin Bieber, please believe me
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| I said, «Wow, I’m on the TV»
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| I can’t fuck with broke bitches, they be creepy
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| She be actin' up, she always tryna leave me
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| But she a bad gyal, and she freaky
|
| I have her hangin' off the rod like she MiMi
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| I never hit a bitch more than once 'cause they be leeches
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| But her pussy good, it taste like peaches
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| But she can have it, I don’t need it
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| I’d rather have my money green like kiwi
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| I don’t talk to niggas 'cause they be cappin'
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| Disrespect me and see what happen
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| I don’t make a call for war, I start snappin'
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| Grr, them bullets blastin'
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| All the opps mad that I lapped them
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| He said, «What's stackin'?» |
| Nothin' but my money
|
| 'Member my pockets flat? |
| Now they chunky
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| I ain’t a pretty boy, but I ain’t ugly
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| And I’ll take your bitch in a second
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| If she a real one, then I’ll protect it
|
| Traded the AP, told my jeweler Patek it
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| And it’s all VVS and flower settings
|
| I might just hit it raw, hold on, that’s not my element
|
| I like dark skins, love her melanin
|
| Huh, Christian Louboutin what I’m steppin' in
|
| Thirty bottles of Azul, tell 'em send 'em in
|
| I had the Lambo', switch to the 'Rari
|
| I’m a gangster, but I like to party
|
| Pop a Perky, go retarded
|
| I’m a Brooklyn nigga, I’m cold-hearted
|
| Yoz, what you tellin' me? |