
drippin’ flava - ji beats lyrics
(idea comin’ for the 808)
hoe i don’t like broke b*tches, b*tch i need a payment
if the b*tch got two feet, then the b*tch can hit the pavement
if the b*tch ain’t got sh*t for me, the b*tch is leaving faceless
drippin’ flava on a b*tch, lil hoe, come and taste this
why the f*ck would i want this b*tch? the lil b*tch is basic
slapped the b*tch across the face, she got drool up on my mason’s
my n*gga giving out testers, so the junkies come and taste this
mix the track 1 with the track 2, i gotta copy paste it, huh
b*tch i gotta copy paste it
d*mn near got kicked up out the club, i’m way too wasted
i can tell this n*gga sippin’ fake drank, i cannot taste it
d*mn near beat the f*ck outta a n*gga, i left him faceless, huh
my b*tch said i’m actin’ ruthless
sippin raw drank everyday, it d*mn near left me toothless
ion trust these n*ggas so you know i gotta ride with two sticks
dropped the top, now it’s roofless
i’m riding ’round with two b*tches
i’m riding ’round three b*tches
matter of fact, it’s four b*tches
ptsd so i gotta keep the 4*nicky
i got anything you need, sh*t i even got that woah vicky
police pulled me out the car, sh*t i think they found the bl!cky, huh
god d*mn, b*tch you know i’m stashed up
heard yo chain got took, why you lookin’ mad at us?
i’m finna grab some new cash, b*tch, you finna grab the bus
my b*tch ass so fat, when she walk, i smack her b*tt
n*gga i saw your new girl, b*tch, i’m finna sn*tch her up
but i just want what’s in her purse, then i’m finna add it up
i ain’t think the b*tch know, and i ain’t think i had enough
i had to lie to the b*tch, i told the b*tch i wanna f*ck
i ain’t even want the b*tch, i want whatever’s in her purse
saw these n*ggas backstab me, b*tch, i’m finna do em worse
these n*ggas got my name in they mouth, i guess they want a verse
you better keep my name out your mouth before you get a he*rs*, huh
b*tch before you get a he*rs*
liu kang kicked the b*tch out my face, she tryna flirt
d*mn these hoes ain’t sh*t, so i know these b*tches worth
this b*tch is too fanned out, want me to sign up on her shirt
i want what’s in ya b*tch pockets, i ain’t want what’s in her skirt
i ain’t f*ckin’ with these n*ggas cuz most these n*ggas nerds
i can get a check on the 1st, 2nd & the 3rd
i can sell anything
i can sell some dirt up to the earth
hoe i don’t like broke b*tches, b*tch i need a payment
if the b*tch got two feet, then the b*tch can hit the pavement
if the b*tch ain’t got sh*t for me, the b*tch is leaving faceless
drippin’ flava on a b*tch, lil hoe, come and taste this
why the f*ck would i want this b*tch? the lil b*tch is basic
slapped the b*tch across the face, she got drool up on my mason’s
my n*gga giving out testers, so the junkies come and taste this
mix the track 1 with the track 2, i gotta copy paste it
huh
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