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lirik lagu stop askin’ – lil bean

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[intro]
(r*r*r*remedy)
yeah

[verse 1]
don’t jump at nothin’ you can’t handle
b*tch, you bad as f*ck with no standards
bro, he tryna clean a n*gga top, too much dandruff
they said he spiced up, get alert, no amber
any n*gga tuckin’ in they chains is no*factors
i just bought my b*tch some earrings, i’m romantic
i can hop inside the amg, i go faster
i don’t even run the instagram, they gon’ amp it
n*ggas always talkin’ ’til we see ’em, no static
i’ma keep sayin’ i need a mil’, it’s gon’ happen
b*tch, you let the lights go to your head, you so average
show them people how you really live, you so plastic
yeah, i know i’m known, but baby, please, no cameras
i could put you on that big screen, no plasma
city college, i was doin’ scams on campus (yeah)
the last n*gga triеd to put on a show and got canceled

[chorus]
b*tch, you know i really bе with thugs, no rappers
i can pass lil’ bro the wop, he gon’ stamp you
playin’ with some chicken, wrap up, she gon’ trap you
i just put eighty around my neck, it’s no acting
i been doin’ numbers on the road, no basket
n*ggas wanna see you in a suit with no casket
i can really post up on the block in high fashion
b*tch already know we keep straps, so stop askin’
[verse 2]
ayy, calm down with all that cappin’, n*gga
b*tch, you wanna leave, go be happy
i can still knock the baddest b*tch, hair nappy
they wonder why a n*gga last this long, i’m just scr*ppy, yeah
tell me where that bag, i secure it
baby love my swag, my appearance
brother, he just hit his last l!ck in some amiris
b*tches love to do everything but be a parent
i can really talk that bag talk, it’s transparent
yeah, i’m really him, so get a grip and stop starin’
brother say he want that big boy mclaren
that love sh*t over once a n*gga stop carin’
twenty*band night, i just had a good evening
what’s that in the stash? got enough for ten seasons
really i can’t make this sh*t up, keep gg
it can really happen any moment, so sleazy

[chorus]
b*tch, you know i really be with thugs, no rappers
i can pass lil’ bro the wop, he gon’ stamp you
playin’ with some chicken, wrap up, she gon’ trap you
i just put eighty around my neck, it’s no acting
i been doin’ numbers on the road, no basket
n*ggas wanna see you in a suit with no casket
i can really post up on the block in high fashion
b*tch already know we keep straps, so stop askin’

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