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lirik lagu cool ranch doritos – donny g (mi)

[intro: tyrese hudson]
let me tell you somethin’, homie
these clubs, these parties, all this **** ain’t goin’ nowhere
the more weird you are is a reflection of how committed you are
to focusin’ on your ****, moldin’ and shapin’ and developin’ your ideas and your craft
so that when it’s time for you to make your rounds, you gon’ fly

[verse 1]
so many bands, i could teach you how to play the guitar, uh
i could see you hatin’ hoes from afar, yo
19 finna come raise the bar, okay
my name in these b*tches throat like a cough
everything i got is ’cause i had to hustle (okay)
the baby with me on the highway, carlee russell (pew, pew, pew, pew)
you b*tches love actin’ tough though
hand me my phone—i’m finna call your bluff, ho
i dropped “yellen”, then they started dissin’ samples (weirdos)
scary b*tches, they know i’m too much to handle (p*ssy)
come test your luck, b*tch, they afraid to chance it with me (come do it)
could see no b*tch wanna come over and gamble with me ([no?])
my competition likes to jump me, so i keep a bl!ck (brrt)
i’m from the mitten where we never leave a fingerprint (h*ll nah)
19 on the way, just be patient, b*tch (wait for it)
my little vibe said she want a situationship (d*mn), ooh

[chorus]
come and shake that ass, b*tch (got that yellow back, bumpin’ shotgun, b*bum—)
don’t be afraid to put that p*ssy on my lap, b*tch (that yellow back, bumpin’ shotgun, b*bum—)
she just want good d*ck and shopping sprees out of saks fif’ (that yellow back, bumpin’ shotgun, b*bum—)
i just use her to get over my last b*tch (that yellow back, bumpin’ shotgun, b*bum—)
a new n*gga tryna come around and swoon me
he just wait for me to give him opportunites
everything that n*gga doin’ is for me though
i blew a bag like it’s cool ranch doritos, p*ssy
[verse 2]
i got a fine*ass go*getter n*gga, he a hustler (that my baby)
he can sell pork bacon to a muslim (godd*mn)
he tell me that he loves and miss me, like his dead granny (true)
and that he hates the division like tom clancy (ayy)
he see me comin’ like a b*tch wearin’ a tight shirt
he know i’m pressure, he want me to make his pipe burst (pop, pop)
he wanna change his last name, he wanna marry me
my opps a bunch of fruit trays—they tryna bury me, haha
tell that n*gga, “eat the cake just like ike” (like ike)
he ask if i want him to stay, b*tch, i slight’ might
like ice spice (ice spice)
he rap my songs word*for*word, it almost shocked me (woah)
when i took 19 down, he d*mn near blocked me
he love my deep rap voice with a tad rasp (fasho’)
he go crazy every time a n*gga rap fast, so
haha, let me impress him
a n*gga been lookin’ to me for protection
i told him to swipe it, american express it
you n*ggas are no competition or my opposition, it’s the traffic laws, can’t stop this (wow)
quit smacking yo’ lips ‘fore i come over and smack you, b*tch (stupid)
september 19 (yeah), save the date, b*tch (go ‘head)
super 19, saga’s on it’s way, b*tch (p*ssy)
what else is there to say, b*tch?

[chorus]
come and shake that ass, b*tch
don’t be afraid to put that p*ssy on my lap, b*tch
she just want good d*ck and shopping sprees out of saks fif’
i just use her to get over my last b*tch
a new n*gga tryna come around and swoon me
he just wait for me to give him opportunites
everything that n*gga doin’ is for me though
i blew a bag like it’s cool ranch doritos, p*ssy (19)
got that yellow back, bumpin’ shotgun, b*bum—
that yellow back, bumpin’ shotgun, b*bum—
that yellow back, bumpin’ shotgun, b*bum—
that yellow back, bumpin’ shotgun

- donny g mi

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