lirik lagu wwe – ciscaux
[intro: just demetri & ciscaux]
yo, what’s up guys?
this is w.i.y. radio with a fresh, new track
call us back at (619) * 555*play, let us know if it’s hot, or not
dustin, out [?]
i said—what? ayy
[chorus: ciscaux]
boy, you couldn’t walk in my shoes, let alone afford ’em (nah)
heard your last [?], man, i sweared out of boredom (boredom)
asked for a verse and i flat*out ignored him (b*tch)
girl, i like how you say my name, let’s record it (ah, let’s—)
got a lifestyle that my mama can’t believe (what?)
bottle*b*tches from belize (okay), bend her back and “baby, please”
racks dirty like some dishes (i hear you), gotta wash ’em in the sink (what, what, what?)
smack you down to the floor, wwe (john cena)
[verse 1: 22december & ciscaux]
if hе askin’ for a feat., i gotta tax him
i ain’t ever goin’ brokе, i’m gettin’ racks in
i’m blowin’ hunnids, got a sauna to relax in
love it when she say my lyrics wit’ her accent (what?)
ayy, first time, new city
32s but my pants don’t fit me
toxic and i’m feelin’ like britney
underrated, give me a chance, don’t skip me
[break: just demetri & l.t.d]
hey there lady love
what‘s on your mind
you’ve given me a love that’s true
that i can’t deny
calling all the ladies to the dance
for this one is jumpin’, so
come shake what’cha mama gave you
and you might just go home with a rapper
or an nba player
[verse 2: ciscaux]
ayy, yeah
they all know that i’m the goat, they can’t be [?]
they ain’t f*ckin’ with the flow because it’s way too extravagant
you call yourself a rapper with no hits, you a pacifist
you better go search for careers, you better run for them sandwiches, like
boy, you know that you can’t stop this sh*t
watch how i talk, i walk my sh*t
yeah, you have it cool, but you ain’t got it like this
i ain’t even wanna go, 22′, pop yo’ sh*t
[verse 3: 22december]
they like “5,000 times two,” then i run it up
and i made another hunnid blues
f*ck ’em, you might end up on the news
got no time to waste, got nothin’ to prove
’cause you know we don’t play when it comes to the cash
bought a whip, give a f*ck if i crash
i jump on the stage and the cameras be flashin’
bad b*tch, she gon’ f*ck me with passion
[chorus: ciscaux]
boy, you couldn’t walk in my shoes, let alone afford ’em (nah)
heard your last [?], man, i sweared out of boredom (boredom)
asked for a verse and i flat*out ignored him (b*tch)
girl, i like how you say my name, let’s record it (ah, let’s—)
got a lifestyle that my mama can’t believe (what?)
bottle*b*tches from belize (okay), bend her back and “baby, please”
racks dirty like some dishes (i hear you), gotta wash ’em in the sink (what, what, what?)
smack you down to the floor, wwe
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