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lirik lagu bing bong (remix) – blakeiana

[intro]
(3dawg made this one)

[chorus: blakeiana]
only thing i love is money, commas make me h*rny (money fetish)
ghost my last n*gga, he wasn’t doin’ enough for me (bye)
shout out to them b*tches who keep my name in they mouth
just know i’m the big league and you hoes some girl scouts (little*ass girl)
airplane mode, i don’t wanna talk if money ain’t bein’ mentioned (mmm)
thinkin’ she could f*ck with me, this b*tch done lost her senses (lost her mind)
if that n*gga top fire, i’m grantin’ him three wishes
pulled a him on him, now he swear he can’t stand b*tches

[verse 1: blakeiana]
pullеd a him on him, now he swear he can’t stand hoеs (hoes)
my n*gga pull up h*llcat, trackhawk, range rove’ (skrrt)
i’m lookin’ good as h*ll, the f*ck i look like stayin’ inside for? (f*ck i look like?)
skully tee chanaynay, b*tch, i spent a ten on wardrobe (ten)
i get what i want and send these n*ggas off like mail (get outta there)
you can be his peace, ’cause i’m the type to give him h*ll (h*ll)
he thought he had me put up, crazy as h*ll (crazy)
more motion than a lot of n*ggas that’s slangin’ vacuum seal (okay)
y’all might think it’s drip, i just be gettin’ fresh as h*ll (for real)
young raw turnt b*tch, i ain’t takin’ no chill pill (never ever)
all my opps is dead ’cause b*tches can’t be for real (they dead)
if that n*gga f*ck up, i’m gettin’ back in the field (back up in the field)
yeah, yeah, play dumb
i put belt to ass, my n*gga puttin’ dracs to drums (b*tch ass)
i’ma blow some bread for real, i want every crumb
pressin’ p on b*tches always made my days fun
post a pic on insta’, to my dms, n*ggas run (nah, for real)
you might think he’s hot, to me, this n*gga ain’t worth nothin’ (back up, lil’ bruh)
who want smoke with b? they gon’ need another lung (yup)
screamin’, “f*ck ya life,” like i’m from ny, bing bong (dummy)
[interlude: s*xyy red]
northside
it’s your favorite, hood hottest princess, s*xyy motherf*ckin’ red in this motherf*cker
i had to hop on this b*tch with my b*tch blake, saint louis sh*t, n*gga (s*xyy)

[verse 2: s*xyy red]
only thing i want is cash, designer on my ass (duh)
left my main n*gga ’cause that d*ck was straight trash (wack)
northside b*tch, you know me, i chase a bag (on bloods)
any n*gga i f*ck with gon’ run his mouth and brag (goofy)
cars tinted five, you can’t see who in this whip (nope)
i like exotic guns, red beams with the switch (graow, baow)
my n*ggas don’t talk ’cause i punch ’em in the lip (what?)
pulled a him on him, now he swear he can’t stand a b*tch (s*xyy)

- blakeiana

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