wagwan - destroy lonely lyrics
[chorus]
wagwan, n*gga, what goin’?
my pants sagging, my gun showing
some money way more greener than lawns
i go bad boy, martin lawrence
i got a bad b*tch, she a foreign
i’m up top n*gga in new york
and my big bro just came from court
i got a stack full of all ones
i’m with some pretty hoes having fun
i’m an italian, dripping in milan
i only smoke 41, don’t want no runtz
i’m moving state to state, i’m on the run
that why i hate to face it, ain’t a front
that’s why i hate these n*ggas, they ain’t nothing
that’s why i hate these b*tches they ain’t nothing
[verse]
i’m getting paid, no, i can’t be sad
f*cking this b*tch and i’m breaking her back
came through with a whole lot of cash
came through with a whole lot of weed
to smoke on
and my diamonds stay getting freeze
they way too cold, they on snow conе
no, i’m not quavo but, baby, i count up by the hunchos
and i’m way too lit
if i pop out with this b*tch, can’t go through the front door
and she way too wеt, when i hop up in this b*tch, i need a poncho
i ain’t even tryna talk if it ain’t about money, i can’t hear it
i ain’t even tryna f*ck with that lil’ b*tch if she ain’t serious
celine, chanel, when you ask for the fashion demon, it ring a bell
no, i’m not playing fair, i spent so much on this ring, i’m kind of embarrassed
i don’t even like to do too much
my b*tch, she do too much but i don’t care
i’m sipping on codeine
counting up money while this b*tch do my hair
[chorus]
wagwan, n*gga, what goin’?
my pants sagging, my gun showing
some money way more greener than lawns
i go bad boy, martin lawrence
i got a bad b*tch, she a foreign
i’m up top n*gga in new york
and my big bro just came from court
i got a stack full of all ones
i’m with some pretty hoes having fun
i’m an italian, dripping in milan
i only smoke 41, don’t want no runtz
i’m moving state to state, i’m on the run
that why i hate to face it, ain’t a front
that’s why i hate these n*ggas, they ain’t nothing
that’s why i hate these b*tches they ain’t nothing
wagwan, n*gga, what goin’?
my pants sagging, my gun showing
some money way more greener than lawns
i go bad boy, martin lawrence
i got a bad b*tch, she a foreign
i’m up top n*gga in new york
and my big bro just came from court
i got a stack full of all ones
i’m with some pretty hoes having fun
i’m in italian, dripping in milan
i only smoke 41, don’t want no runtz
i’m moving state to state, i’m on the run
that why i hate to face it, ain’t a front
that’s why i hate these n*ggas, they ain’t nothing
that’s why i hate these b*tches they ain’t nothing
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