| Said she wanna go New York
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| On road to a real nigga heart
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| Hey, said she wanna hit the mall
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| Wanna show it off like a movie star
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| Hey, said she used to the fraud
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| Girl, did you ever think you’d live this large?
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| Hey, She call me «Mr Anything»
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| 'Cause I can buy her anything, the tings that she want
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| I’m moving like a king so she had to look twice
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| Told ya sip syrup, don’t take my advice
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| It ain’t no worries when you standin' by my side
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| You like surprised, girl, you look like a vibe
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| She said she wan' Goyard
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| On the road she know mi park too hard
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| Ay, she said she wan' go down the West End
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| Fi spend money pon her blouse and frock
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| Ay, she said she wan' buy a Givenchy bag
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| Bag small but the price dem large
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| I Mr Anything or any ting
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| So mi ah go buy any ting that she want
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| She movin' like a queen, had to look twice
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| I told her, «Baby girl, hey, everything nice»
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| You ain’t gotta worry 'cause I got you till the end
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| You ain’t lookin' like a 5 girl, you lookin' like a 10, so
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| Ice her down, girl, drop it down low
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| Throw that ass around, girl, vroom, vroom, vroom
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| Now slip it down, girl, row, row, row
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| And baby, do what I do like whoa, whoa, whoa
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| Take me one more round, you gon' hit the lotto
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| She stopped fuckin' clowns 'cause the shit wasn’t addin' up
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| Bricks on her now, got her, got her bag up
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| Bad ting-ting but I made her badder
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| Said she’s never been to Selfridges, never been to Harrods
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| I should send you Primark, just to keep a balance
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| One man to ya pom-pom, I could imagine
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| Cah pussy feels better when gettin' it’s a challenge
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| Drippy, young nigga always flex and it’s apparent
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| You see me with a ten-ten, just can’t lower my standards
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| They sayin' she a gold digger but I ain’t a broke nigga
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| When her ex just couldn’t get the bill she was embarrassed, so
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| I could be your Santa, baby, what’s the clause though?
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| Could never put a ring on any ho, ho, ho
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| When she wine sweet, mi sup Moscato
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| Ay, tick and tock, make it clap, bravo
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| She a bad little vibe, I’ma freak till the morn with her
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| Late night lovin' got me tryna call on ya
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| Fuck ya ex, that nigga old news
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| You just need someone to go to
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| And she knows she a bad lil mama
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| Givenchy, now want a Dolce Gabbana
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| She finessin', never care about karma
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| Still I think that pussy might be worth all the drama, for real
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| On the East Side with this ice on chill
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| Ay, I’m with the mandem still
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| But you could be mine, baby, signed and sealed
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| So, Ice her down, girl, drop it down low
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| Throw that ass around, girl, vroom, vroom, vroom
|
| Now slip it down, girl, row, row, row
|
| And baby, do what I do like whoa, whoa, whoa
|
| Take me one more round, you gon' hit the lotto
|
| She stopped fuckin' clowns 'cause the shit wasn’t addin' up
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| Bricks on her now, got her, got her bag up
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| Bad ting-ting but I made her badder |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Givenchy Bag , by - Wiley. Song from the album Boasty Gang - The Album, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп