1, 2, 3, 4 - randall rock lyrics
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(it’s barbie b-tch)
i’m the barbie
keep a lotta plastic
little pink stars
put em on my jacket
somebody tell her i’mma put her in a casket
register my money for the money gymnastic
cause i make it flip so they be lookin’ all nasty
colder then a hail i tell her hail that taxi
b-tch won’t blow but she can blow my saxophone
and i call saks fifth ave-y home
that is where a real bad barbie roam
r-r-r-r-r-roam
sorry i broke up excuse my cell phone
it must be a at&t dead zone
my n-ggas in the club he let heat roam
need my rozay i need my patron
need my henny and i need my hypno
that’s one bottle, two bottle, three bottle, four
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