Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Blur, artist - Strick. Date of issue: 27.06.2019
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Blur |
| Bitch asking for a picture but I ain’t got no time to pose |
| And I jumped right off the porch and I was tryna lift the doors |
| I got Chanel wrapped 'round my wrist, it’s twenty-four karat gold |
| I don’t pop like Bruno Mars, your wifey wait for me at home |
| All the scales in the kitchen but ain’t no fish on the stove, yeah |
| Soon as they rock that gut, they get it in, get it gone, yeah |
| I been movin' hella fast, man it’s like a blur |
| Ashton paint look like some ice cream, I need two cups and some syrup, yeah |
| X poppin', we so popular, we know |
| Bada bing, her body boom, she need a comb, yeah |
| Bomb pussy, might have to take her on the road |
| Her nigga lame, he ain’t even chase no check, yeah, tell him 'bout it |
| Just left from Coachella, I’m pullin' vibes every song |
| Hundred round sticks, no reload |
| They be stealin' sounds but we evolve |
| Made a movie in Hollywood, I look like a star, yeah |
| Used to play the background, we made it |
| She used to be your player, but, now I’m her favorite |
| Eighty, sixty grand, yeah, YSL made it |
| Livin' for the moment, you catch a case and then you frame it |
| Bitch asking for a picture but I ain’t got no time to pose |
| And I jumped right off the porch and I was tryna lift the doors |
| I got Chanel wrapped 'round my wrist, it’s twenty-four karat gold |
| I don’t pop like Bruno Mars, your wifey wait for me at home |
| All the scales in the kitchen but ain’t no fish on the stove, yeah |
| Soon as they rock that gut, they get it in, get it gone, yeah |
| I been movin' hella fast, man it’s like a blur |
| Ashton paint look like some ice cream, I need two cups and some syrup |
| Tesla poppin', and I whip it on my own |
| Still remember, we would trap out mobile homes |
| In the trap, I had three different mobile phones |
| They copy drip, I think I gotta hundred clones |
| Water 'round my neck, I turn that shit into a island |
| I never ran in my life, last time was when I heard the sirens |
| When I’m in the Lamb I tell these bitches give me silence |
| Bitch, It’s YSL, we don’t ever need no stylist |
| I’m in California with the next nigga ho |
| Me and Strick in a Bentley, we got Tecs in the doors |
| Looking for your bitch, then why she texting me for? |
| All my bitches bad, you can never fuck with no bitch, no |
| Bitch asking for a picture but I ain’t got no time to pose |
| And I jumped right off the porch and I was tryna lift the doors |
| I got Chanel wrapped 'round my wrist, it’s twenty-four karat gold |
| I don’t pop like Bruno Mars, your wifey wait for me at home |
| All the scales in the kitchen but ain’t no fish on the stove, yeah |
| Soon as they rock that gut, they get it in, get it gone, yeah |
| I been movin' hella fast, man it’s like a blur |
| Ashton paint look like some ice cream, I need two cups and some syrup |