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damn! - rnd officially lyrics

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[intro: yung $piiffii & supah mario]
(supah mario on the beat n*gga)

hmm, okay
let me try it, look

[chorus: yung $piiffii]
look, b*tch, give me the neck, huh
no, i don’t want the rest, i got a million and you’s on the list

a million more, bout to put up a fit
d*mn (d*mn), d*mn (d*mn), b*tch (woo)

bouncing that booty, we making a big booty fl!ck (woo)
she do it all on the d*ck

got me like, d*mn (d*mn), d*mn (d*mn), (yung $piiffii)

[verse 1: yung $piiffii]
is you f*cking or topping? (huh?)
i don’t lose stamina i can’t be reclining (no)
f*ck being gentle i’m done being modest (swear)
you cannot grow me now let’s just be honest (facts)

naked lil b*tch got her slobbing
f*cking that b*tch from the back
and she throbbing, (woo)
hop on the jet, bet it’s private
meezy wit me so we batman & robin
money my “s”, $piiffii gon keep him a chеck (b*tch)

money man on my wrist n*gga, on my chest
i done hit thе b*tch in the neck (yes)
money man down my b*tch (yessir)

ay we up my people ain’t poor no more
we ain’t looking at the floor no more (thank god)
boy we used to reminisce about being broke
no more now we spending 4, 5 in the store (swear)

they thinking we cap, no we don’t f*ck around, no static (we don’t)
no we do not do beef, dramatic (we don’t)
pulling up with mercedes, classic

ain’t got no b*tch ’cause, i’m too charismatic
hoe lift they shirt at the shows, she ratchet
got it stamp on the back, she nasty (what he say?)
she a freaky lil b*tch with a statement
we probably gonna f*ck if she asked me (sike)

[chorus: yung $piiffii]
but give me the neck, (lil b*tch)
i don’t want the rest, i got a million and you’s on the list
a million more bout to put up a fit
d*mn (d*mn), d*mn (d*mn), b*tch, (woo)

bouncing that booty, we making a big booty fl!ck, (woo)
she do it all on the d*ck

got me like, d*mn (d*mn), d*mn (d*mn)

[verse 2: romel cantrell]
d*mn, d*mn
got a booty, like pam
i go vroom in it, like a lamb
if them n*ggas try it, we gon’ blam

that’s ya girl, but for me she gon’ twerk
f*ck the life out her, when she on on alert
boy you n*ggas steady cappin’, better move
i’m comin’ through with the heat, and it bet it hurt

f*ck n*gga, see why they don’t f*cks with ya
love to milwaukee, but you a snake, can’t get no bucks with ya
my hittas, they from the chi, and they straight bulls, ain’t no luck with ya

got engaged, but she f*ck me before the wedding
how you put your trust in her?
but aye tho, f*ck n*gga talkin’ out they mouth, better watch out
before he get beat in the club and get tossed out
then take his wife by the hand, and i walk out
put*back dunk in ya b*tch, when i box out

real n*gga really feelin’ like rick ross
hop out that maybach in ice, feeling bossed out
got my own lingo my n*gga, i’m flossed out
n*ggas can’t touch me in the field, randy moss’d out

[chorus: yung $piiffii]
give me the neck, huh
no, i don’t want the rest, i got a million and you’s on the list

a million more bout to put up a fit
d*mn (d*mn), d*mn (d*mn), b*tch (woo)

bouncing that booty, we making a big booty fl!ck (woo)
she do it all on the d*ck

got me like, d*mn (d*mn), d*mn (d*mn)

[verse 3: romel cantrell & yung $piiffii]
d*mn
that lil b*tch got ass on her
yeah f*ck the floor
b*tch i might just throw some cash on you

give me the neck and i pass on her
leave her on read when she tell me to eat n*gga
get the dome and then i dash on her

i’m pulling her weave i harassed the frontal
i’m storing this glocky inside of this jacket with zippers
i’m feeling like michael on thriller

and no they can’t keep up with $piiff
i’m usain with the sh*t i’ll be running this sh*t to the finish
i’m a run up in the spot with a bag

and walk out that hoe with 400k in it
spent a lil dime while up in the bentley
just got a lil dime b*tch to hop in it
and she running neck

nope, she ain’t worried bout no check
nope, b*tch came through wit the flex
throwing ass on me in an all white dress

then he pass to the bro, and you know i’m next
i don’t act, but i’ll act up n*gga don’t test
with ya fake ass chain, boy don’t even flex

but bro that n*gga ain’t up on sh*t
man i already know n*gga, you ain’t own sh*t
tryna roll with the cl!ck n*gga, you is a b*tch
i pull out that iron and knock out his wrinkles

got his girl hollering, that p*ssy sprinkle
f*ck with mine and the sh*t get lethal
f*ck all that fake kickin’ it, ’cause you n*ggas

like blinds, i swear i can see through
d*mn this b*tch feel like a sequel
when it come to my time, it cost, my n*gga we ain’t equal

[chorus: yung $piiffii]
but give me the neck, (lil b*tch)
i don’t want the rest, i got a million and you’s on the list

a million more bout to put up a fit
d*mn (d*mn), d*mn (d*mn), b*tch, (woo)

bouncing that booty, we making a big booty fl!ck, (woo)
she do it all on the d*ck

got me like, d*mn (d*mn), d*mn (d*mn)

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