
k. michelle (4shogirl) - joseph mcfashion lyrics
[intro]
(coach me, joey)
(okay, kmoney)
(joey)
[verse 1: nuk]
i’ma take my bag to work, go, ain’t never need no shooters
hoppin’ off the plane with all my racks, they think i’m d.b. cooper
i just wanna walk around with racks, and n*ggas get offended
all my b*tches rockin’ mike amiri, not no lululemon
yeah, boy, them thousand*dollar jeans if you know the denim
brodie say he wanna triple up if he go through virginia
boy, i go get plenty pape’, b*tches give me plenty face
she don’t f*ck with you because you took her on elimidate
ride with bookie in thе ‘wood laughin’
boy, we got the hood slappin’
i get in thе kitchen and i whip me up a bullmastiff
ghetto little b*tch, she wanna suck me ’cause the ‘wood smokin’
told the b*tch i’m right back to the spot ’cause the jugg crashin’
my b*tches a lil’ ratchet, i come through the hood taxin’
brodie droppin’ n*ggas, robbin’ n*ggas of they hood status
all my b*tches bougie, bad, barbies
they can look at these and they can tell they peer hardys
[chorus: nuk]
b*tches love a n*gga that be wakin’ up and gettin’ pape’
b*tches hate a n*gga that be wakin’ up in n*ggas’ face
b*tches love a n*gga that know how to make a bow curl
spent five on her tits, now she got milk like a 4sho girl
i’m like, “lil’ baby, what you on?” she like, “boy, i’m grown”
me and my b*tch f*ckin’ all my b*tches, she know all my hoes
lil’ n*gga, all my b*tches bad, so i can’t just scale
sh*t, i kinda love ’em all just like k. mich*lle
[verse 2: rio da yung og]
i been sellin’ dope forever, n*gga, can’t you tell?
don’t ask what kind of weed this is, n*gga, can’t you smell?
‘fore i hit the cell, i instantly make bail, i can’t stay in jail
i won’t give a b*tch a dime, but i’ll pay for nails
on the mall with nuk drinkin’ a six, he throwin’ up the five
just seen my ex*b*tch, i know she sick, throwin’ up inside
p*ssy, my cup bl**dy as f*ck like when the cherry pop
i done took more headshots with the cannon than jerry shot
before you smoke the blunt of regs, we had a larry spot
bro, stop right here and throw the fetty out, here come the cherry*tops
i could have a hundred bricks of pure food and still won’t sell you top
you can’t weigh a whole brick up? what kind of scale you got?
i drunk a lot of lean today, that’s why i keep on noddin’
i’m quick to ram a b*tch like a hemi, then i gotta dodge her
n*gga never took sh*t from rio, i was robbin’ robbers
my opps ain’t got sh*t to they name but a shot*up—
[chorus: nuk]
b*tches love a n*gga that be wakin’ up and gettin’ pape’
b*tches hate a n*gga that be wakin’ up in n*ggas’ face
b*tches love a n*gga that know how to make a bow curl
spent five on her tits, now she got milk like a 4sho girl
i’m like, “lil’ baby, what you on?” she like, “boy, i’m grown”
me and my b*tch f*ckin’ all my b*tches, she know all my hoes
lil’ n*gga, all my b*tches bad, so i can’t just scale
sh*t, i kinda love ’em all just like k. mich*lle
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