lirik lagu keep it cute – cuban doll
[intro]
([?])
f*ck these b*tches thought
lil’ dirty ass b*tches
[verse 1]
lil’ b*tch, keep it cute, you ain’t gangster, you a thot
all you gotta do is say my name if you need clout
that lil’ tiktok money stop, throw you in the drought
talkin’ sticks, but your scary ass always in the house
who the f*ck rap beef ’bout a n*gga? i’ll spin it
i’ll pay dawg to get the f*ck on ’bout his business
rappin’ just like me but i’m the mama, that’s the difference
b*tch, you know how many time i had to discipline children?
in the drop top screamin’ out, “b*tch, stop hidin’!”
you ain’t never did sh*t but write a rap, stop lyin’
when the pressure on, quick to smack a b*tch ’cause i’m violent
when you speakin’ on my name, better keep that sh*t private
[chorus]
last time that i’d check, i was that b*tch on these streets
y’all gon’ make me pop out and beat the sh*t out these freaks
in the striker three deep with a stick in each seat
’bout to line a b*tch up, say she thinkin’ sh*t sweet
you went and settled for the work and not the plug, b*tch, crazy
if i really wanted stunna, i’ll go and f*ck ‘baby
book yo’ lil’ show and make you think it’s sour gravy
stomp yo’ sh*t, cricket, make yo’ ass get braces
[verse 2]
y’all don’t got no type of motion, man, i hate this b*tch
you really gotta be down bad just to date this b*tch
to rockin’ his chain, pop your stupid ass and take his sh*t
gon’ make me dissapoint the kids, then play yo’ sh*t
beat yo’ ass down the block, you know how sh*t go
don’t let this rappin’ sh*t fool you, really [?]
that n*gga put yo’ lame ass in a carti’ watch
my type of n*ggas buy rollies, ho, sh*t blown
fat and old stick*bug*lookin’ ass goofy
only pop for a year, already givin’ out coochie
be happy you a b*tch that cuff one of my groupies
i don’t gotta cap for a song, them interviews prove it
[chorus]
last time that i’d check, i was that b*tch on these streets
y’all gon’ make me pop out and beat the sh*t out these freaks
in the striker three deep with a stick in each seat
’bout to line a b*tch up, say she thinkin’ sh*t sweet
you went and settled for the work and not the plug, b*tch, crazy
if i really wanted stunna, i’ll go and f*ck ‘baby
book yo’ lil’ show and make you think it’s sour gravy
stomp yo’ sh*t, cricket, make yo’ ass get braces
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