lirik lagu b.o.y. – grant (rapper)
[intro]
you a*
you a*
you a*
you* you* you a*
[chorus]
you a b.o.y. ’cause, b*tch, i own you
i get a bag, i do everything you can’t do
you can’t pr*nounce the designer up on my custom shoe
you can barely get his d*ck up, i got his f*ckin’ b*lls blue (uh, uh*uh)
you a b.o.y. ’cause, b*tch, i own you
i get a bag, i do everything you can’t do
you can’t pr*nounce the designer up on my custom shoe
you can barely get his d*ck up, i got his f*ckin’ b*lls blue (uh, uh*uh)
[verse 1]
you a boy, b*tch, you’re manly, i ain’t seein’ no femme
you broke as f*ck, wallet empty, i ain’t seein’ no ms
you think you makin’ me sick, but i ain’t seein’ no phlegm
my tailor on swift, get back to stitchin’ my hems
denim von dutch miniskirt like i’m alex consani
yeah, my p*ssy ph balanced, you be givin’ dasani
ass and titties half my weight, waist synchеd, body scrawny
nylon bag is prada, and this silk top armani (yo)
[chorus]
you a b.o.y. ’cause, b*tch, i own you
i get a bag, i do evеrything you can’t do
you can’t pr*nounce the designer up on my custom shoe
you can barely get his d*ck up, i got his f*ckin’ b*lls blue (uh, uh*uh)
you a b.o.y. ’cause, b*tch, i own you
i get a bag, i do everything you can’t do
you can’t pr*nounce the designer up on my custom shoe
you can barely get his d*ck up, i got his f*ckin’ b*lls blue (uh, uh*uh)
[verse 2]
bet you hoes never thought i’d touch a jerk beat
step yo’ cookies right on up, i ain’t feelin’ no heat
you my f*ckin’ son, gotta put yo’ ass in a car seat
try to go against me, i’ll have yo’ ass on the concrete
be so f*ckin’ serious
you b*tches is delirious
i mothered so hard, must be why i missed my period
easily kickin’ b*tches out they spots, i’m talkin’ off the grid
always gon’ be the final girl, i’m talkin’ game of squid, b*tch
[chorus]
you a b.o.y. ’cause, b*tch, i own you
i get a bag, i do everything you can’t do
you can’t pr*nounce the designer up on my custom shoe
you can barely get his d*ck up, i got his f*ckin’ b*lls blue (uh, uh*uh)
you a b.o.y. ’cause, b*tch, i own you (’cause, b*tch, i own you)
i get a bag, i do everything you can’t do (everything you can’t do)
you can’t pr*nounce the designer up on my custom shoe (uh)
you can barely get his d*ck up, i got his f*ckin’ b*lls blue (uh, uh*uh)
[outro]
you a weak ass motherf*ckin’ boy, b*tch
get the f*ck outta my face (uh, uh*uh)
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