lirik lagu triple s – suavve porter
[intro]
[?]
[chorus]
a ho can’t impress me
knew her before she was s*xy
i had money since back when you met me
i mind my business, don’t like to be messy
don’t need no stylist, n0body could dress me
i could get drippy all by myself
[?] vlone, i don’t need no help
fit too drip, i don’t need no belt
triple s, stylish, swaggy, situated
[?] situation, pockets ocky
look at his wrist, come take it
i was a lil’ impatient, god been gracious
i gotta thank him
bro no chef but he cook and bake him
she on her period, i’m only worried ’bout commas
it’s all about punctuation
[verse]
studio jumpin’, [?]
we got the gas in the air, the blunts blazin’
watch who you callin’ your homies
n*ggas be lowkey watchin’ the bucks you makin’
boy, why you pocket*watchin’?
pocket*rocket drop him, now he [?]
i’m not a k!ller, i never was
focused on bread, i’m paper*chasin’
you ain’t a k!ller, [?]
just so you topic of conversation
bro just [?], he racin’
mission complete, better don’t say sh*t
jackin’ the gang but they ain’t sanctioned
who are these n*ggas? i really don’t know
if you ain’t in my circle now
you can’t come around when i’m in my glow
baby girl, i do not woo or no choo
no, i don’t bang, but i still let it blow
vvs on my earlobe
[?] outside, i let it snow
pickin’ through b*tches like duck, duck, goose
but it’s still moose knuckles for the coat
ain’t tryna have no babies
givin’ throat babies, [?] choo
she jackin’ the fasion
she like, “what type of belt you got on?” it’s a bb
girl, i’m a bad boy, make it look easy
give me some years, i’ma be in your tv
when you see me, just don’t jack me
high school, [?] would pass me
now i tell her, “turn over”
i’m bustin’ on while i’m slappin’ my pole on her ass cheek
get on your knees, girl, i want it my way
my favorite band was the backstreet boys
i cannot be no backstreet boy
i took my own name
n*ggas talk hot for some [?] be so lame
he don’t make no noise, he ain’t got no name
whole gang gon’ blow up like propane
go gang, run it up, more drip, more chains
(give that boy fifty and [?] for no chain)
he ain’t even a topic
n*ggas be broke, no bread in they pockets
stealin’ my swag, my style, like, stop it
you ain’t in tune, your girlfriend watchin’
clockin’, know all my movements
heard you upset ’cause she bumpin’ my music
better act like you know, n*gga, don’t be foolish
your ho, she be choosin’
[chorus]
a ho can’t impress me
knew her before she was s*xy
i had money since back when you met me
i mind my business, don’t like to be messy
don’t need no stylist, n0body could dress me
i could get drippy all by myself
[?] vlone, i don’t need no help
fit too drip, i don’t need no belt
triple s, stylish, swaggy, situated
[?] situation, pockets ocky
look at his wrist, come take it
i was a lil’ impatient, god been gracious
i gotta thank him
bro no chef but he cook and bake him
she on her period, i’m only worried ’bout commas
it’s all about punctuation
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