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dasyori - fashionist lyrics

[intro]
yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
yeah, yeah, yeah

[chorus]
they like how you cook that sh*t, i be like, i don’t even know how they like why yo’ name be “fashionist”, i just count up fabric, b—bad hoe like bad b*tch
talkin’ sh*t get, f*ck, talkin’ sh*t get yo’ ass kicked

[verse]
all these n*ggas on d*ck, i just thought i lost it, yeah
this b*tch on my phone, she hit my cellphone
beat that n*gga ass, he won’t leave me ‘lone
in the club, throwin’ cash, [?] (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
yeah, dasyori on my jeans, i count my brеad up
new dasyori on my jeans, i count my cheese up
b*tch was on my f*ckin’ d*ck, shе told me please, yeah
all these n*ggas fake and i don’t need them
baby, if you really telling the real, why can’t i leave ya?
babe, if i’m really telling the real b*tch, i don’t need ya’
got scene b*tches on my d*ck, i feel like neisa

[verse]
all these n*ggas on d*ck, i just thought i lost it, yeah
this b*tch on my phone, she hit my cellphone
beat that n*gga ass, he won’t leave me ‘lone
in the club, throwin’ cash, [?] (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
yeah, dasyori on my jeans, i count my bread up
new dasyori on my jeans, i count my cheese up
b*tch was on my f*ckin’ d*ck, she told me please, yeah
all these n*ggas fake and i don’t need them
baby, if you really telling the real, why can’t i leave ya?
babe, if i’m really telling the real b*tch, i don’t need ya’
got scene b*tches on my d*ck, i feel like neisa

- fashionist lyrics

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