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durty grit$zz fr33$tyle - sickboyrari lyrics

[intro]
weed (uh)

[chorus]
riding with yo b*tch, catch me in the kitchen, n*gga, cooking dirty grits (gra*pah, yeeh)
riding with yo b*tch, catch me in the kitchen, cooking dirty grits (gucci hucci suck me, n*gga)
riding with yo b*tch, catch me in the kitchen, cooking dirty grits

[verse]
dirty ass grits, n*gga, eat that sh*t
riding with my b*tch off the internet
met her off a [?], people [?] cops (sup, b*tch)
f*ck her in the ass then i take her shiping
f*ck cashin’ out, i be st**zed out
lookin’ like a hoe in the twerkhouse
mo’f*ckin’ twerkhouse phone [?] (beep)
chillin’ on the corner like a f*ckin’ hooker
making f*ckin’ dollars, make that ass holla
young black kray splurge [?]
sike, n*gga, catch me on that skateboard
yellow ass b*tch, make [?]
i be in the room, chillin’ with my castle
smokin’ on that magic and i’m [?]
i might go to f*ckin’ mars
i might pull up with a mo’f*ckin’ hoe in [?] stolen parks (woo)
but i hit no l!cks though (woo)
still got my f*ckin’ d*ck on her lips though (woo, woo)
n*gga from the east coast
trap art city [?], what the f*ck you know? (b*tch, i’m popular)
[?] up
b*tch see my face, said “black kray, hol’ up”
chillin’ with the utmost
that’s the mo’f*ckin’ crew, chillin’ with yo f*ckin’ [?]
chillin’ with the [?]
ass [?] in the f*ckin’ booth
hoe
uhm

- sickboyrari lyrics

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