| I’m a rockstar tryna fuck a pornstar
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| And I keep a blade light, Sword Art Online
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| How’d you get a sports car? |
| «I don’t know, it’s not mine»
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| Any more questions? |
| Please, hit my hotline
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| At 1−800 suck a motherfuckin' dick
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| Please, call me up, please, call me up
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| I’m young McLovin, got a super bad bitch
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| She want me, yeah, she want me, yeah
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| 'Cause I don’t pick up, leave a voicemail
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| Rooftop chillin' at the hotel
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| Whole game on my back like Odel
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| Can’t keep up, tell 'em, «Oh, well»
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| Now I’m fuckin' bitches and money and that’s it
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| You don’t like the shit that I’m makin', then suck dick
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| Carti man, Rick, bunch of motherfuckers on the ride up on my wave
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| Out the way 'fore I slap a pussy boy like Brad Pitt, shit
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| Momma raised a boy to be a pimp, pimp
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| Fur coat vibin' at the wrist, wrist
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| Good role model for the kids, kids
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| Willy went and made another hit
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| Last date that I had was a court date
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| I’m hard, you soft like sorbet
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| Not parfait, no foreplay
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| You be lookin' sweet like a strawberry shortcake
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| Who you think is next up, I’m better
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| I got drank in my cup like bender
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| That boy said that I suck, whatever
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| I got riches switched up, Bruce Jenner
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| At 1−800 suck a motherfuckin' dick
|
| Please, call me up, please, call me up
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| I’m young McLovin, got a super bad bitch
|
| She want me, yeah, she want me, yeah
|
| 'Cause I don’t pick up, leave a voicemail
|
| Rooftop chillin' at the hotel
|
| Whole game on my back like Odel
|
| Can’t keep up, tell 'em, «Oh, well»
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| I don’t like you, you, you
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| Hear the phone ring, ring, ring
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| Everything new, new, new
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| Lookin' like a king, king, king
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| Money stack tall, tall, tall
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| I’m talkin' Yao Ming, Ming, Ming
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| Fuck it, we ball, ball, ball
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| I told that boy swing, swing, swing
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| I’m soundin' like hey, better, better, hey, better, better
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| Then I watch your brain splatter, splatter, brain splatter, splatter
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| On my way up like a ladder, no chitter-chatter
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| I don’t give a fuck, it don’t matter 'less it make my pockets fatter
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| You could hear the pitter-patter tappin', I’m at your door
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| And I’m attached with a piece of chrome, I’m just so happy to know it
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| That you were lackin' while my GPS was trackin' your home
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| And I sent it back and if you have it, tell him call at my phone |