lirik lagu we don’t luv em – hoodrich pablo juan
[intro]
ooh, yeah
mony powr rspt, n-gg-
it’s a money set, you know what i’m saying?
everybody getting money, n-gg-
yeah, pablo juan
[chorus]
the money go where i go
smoking on gelato
foreign car swerving, potholes
bad b-tch, she from chicago
she freaky, she gon’ bust it
she thick as f-ck, i’m l-sting
i got her from my cousin
so what? ’cause we don’t love ’em
f-ck that, i wanna hit from the back
backwoods smoking, it’s fat
dressing like i got a sack
i pull up, jumped out the ‘bach
bad b-tch and her -ss fat
four-door coupe, it got a hatch
on the xans, i might crash that
[verse 1]
car got gadgets, my b-tches got -sses
expensive gl-sses like i’m teaching cl-ss
too fresh to take out the trash
fresh to death, where is my casket?
i always stay with -ss-ssins
i’m always late with the fashion
teacher gave me an f, that’s fantastic
vs diamonds on me, look how they flashing
rocking saint laurent, i guess i be dabbing
i got the louis v, supreme collabbing
bought a mansion way away like a cabin
taking off my swag, i feel like your daddy
you a beggar, i’m a hustler
i’m the dealer, you the customer
ketchup, little n-gg-, i’m mustard
smoking the backwoods, they coming from russia
i ain’t never really trust you
knew i should’ve never trust you
you ain’t real, you a busta
these n-gg-s was always sus
these n-gg-s start snitching for nothing
these n-gg-s wanna live by the gun
guess what? you gon’ get what you want
el patrón, n-gg-, i want a ton
[chorus]
the money go where i go
smoking on gelato
foreign car swerving, potholes
bad b-tch, she from chicago
she freaky, she gon’ bust it
she thick as f-ck, i’m l-sting
i got her from my cousin
so what? ’cause we don’t love ’em
f-ck that, i wanna hit from the back
backwoods smoking, it’s fat
dressing like i got a sack
i pull up, jumped out the bach
bad b-tch and her -ss fat
four-door coupe, it got a hatch
on the xans, i might crash that
[verse 2]
pull up on you, just send me the addy
bad b-tch call me daddy
xan, perc, and a addy
i really wanna f-ck a kardashian
i like a freaky b-tch that’s gon’ suck it
i just be kicking sh-t like it was rugby
h-ll no, baby, don’t call me hubby
f-ck you thought, baby? we was just f-cking
ooh, i’m back to the trap and i’m serving that
i done got me a sack like a running back
two pints of hi-tech and a eighth of act
i’ma f-ck on your b-tch, i’ma break her back
i’ma f-ck on your b-tch, i’ma give her back
i got two b-tches playing pitty pat
i just do it like the nike check
my neck froze, got a ice attack
[chorus]
the money go where i go
smoking on gelato
foreign car swerving, potholes
bad b-tch, she from chicago
she freaky, she gon’ bust it
she thick as f-ck, i’m l-sting
i got her from my cousin
so what? ’cause we don’t love ’em
f-ck that, i wanna hit from the back
backwoods smoking, it’s fat
dressing like i got a sack
i pull up, jumped out the bach
bad b-tch and her -ss fat
four-door coupe, it got a hatch
on the xans, i might crash that
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