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rip follies - diamond* (2) lyrics

[intro]
phew, ayy, phew
ayy, phew, ayy, phew
hey, yeah, phew, it’s diamond*, bling, woo

[chorus]
lil’ bro be trippin’, tryna catch him a body (woo, woo)
my ho too skinny, i buy her a body (woo, ow)
mafia sh*t, b*tch, i move like john gotti (move like john gotti, yeah)
i’m throwin’ ones, screamin’, “r.i.p. follies” (hey, r.i.p. follies)
dripped in balenci, i’m fly as a pilot
he pop his lip then we pop at his noggin (boom)
these b*tches sharks and they f*ck all your partners
my pockets fat, b*tch, i’m not on the dollar
vvs pointers, that sh*t is not glass
these n*ggas broke, i should buy ’em a cast
i don’t f*ck b*tches that do not have class
i like her face, she don’t got no body
i told her it’s nothin’ to buy her a ass
fixin’ the dial, this sh*t made me crash (woah, ø way)
she sucked me soul in the whip while i’m drivin’ (woah, woah, ø way)
losin’ control behind the wheel, i might crash

[verse]
pulled out my chain, went the cold as december (hey)
f*cked her five times and i still never kissed her
back to back maybachs, they filled up with missiles
move with your ho, one shot, feel like a kicker
my b*tch a freak, she be piercin’ her nipples (woah*woah*woah)
ain’t buyin’ bottles but, b*tch, i’m a sipper (woah*woah*woah*woah)
i’m always pimpin’, boy, never a simper
ice in my t**th and they thought it was dentures (yeah)
i can’t complain, but this life gettin’ better
entourage filled up with trappers and smackers
n*ggas not real, this game filled up with actors (ayy, ayy, wow, wow)
and i’m way too real to just dab up these b*st*rds (woah*woah)
ysl shoes, they came out in ’03 (woo), these b*tches walk like i’m walkin’ in napkins (wow, wow, woo)
diamond* outside, boy, you better watch your feet
birkin my b*tch and i might double c
purple my cup, boy, i don’t do the green (uh*huh)
ferrari truck, that sh*t come out in spring (woo*woo)
she touched my d*ck then she turned to a fiend (woah, woah, woo)
sippin’ and spendin’ your rent on my jeans
f*ckin’ your b*tch, got her scent on my sheets
white on her clothes, i’m addicted to freaks (yeah)
house on the hills like we built that from greece
i don’t be talkin’, i just say, “capiche” (ayy, ayy, yeah)
[chorus]
lil’ bro be trippin’, tryna catch him a body (woo, woo)
my ho too skinny, i buy her a body (woo, ow)
mafia sh*t, b*tch, i move like john gotti (move like john gotti, yeah)
i’m throwin’ ones, screamin’, “r.i.p. follies” (hey, r.i.p. follies)
dripped in balenci, i’m fly as a pilot
he pop his lip then we pop at his noggin (boom)
these b*tches sharks and they f*ck all your partners
my pockets fat, b*tch, i’m not on the dollar
vvs pointers, that sh*t is not glass
these n*ggas broke, i should buy ’em a cast
i don’t f*ck b*tches that do not have class
i like her face, she don’t got no body
i told her it’s nothin’ to buy her a ass
fixin’ the dial, this sh*t made me crash (woah, ø way)
she sucked me soul in the whip while i’m drivin’ (woah, woah, ø way)
losin’ control behind the wheel, i might crash

[outro]
phew, phew

- diamond 2 lyrics

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