lirik lagu swing ya pole – summrs
[intro]
free doody (one and only)
get richer every year (venexxi)
bird business, bb (yeah*yeah*yeah*yeah)
gg (paulo), yeah
hahaha, yeah (mingo)
uh*huh, uh*huh
[chorus]
swing your f*ckin’ pole, n*gga
act like you wanna do somethin’
she ride on the d*ck like a pole, n*gga
beat on that b*tch like a cucumber
these hoes ain’t gettin’ my new number (uh*huh)
in the fast gle*ski, pushin’ it with my dior runners
yeah, i’m up three hundred*ball, i want a new hundred*ball
i want a big double r, no, i don’t pop handlebars
no, i don’t recycle bars, i got a lot in my catalog
i’m tryna put a nеw car, hah, in my motherf*ckin’ garage (huh)
[verse]
yeah, shoutout lil’ sosa, b*tch, that bе my twin (yeah*yeah, my twin)
call up lil’ jay to come smoosh his ass
he gon’ hit him then he spinnin’ again
oh, i did it again, b*tch, all for the win (fah*fah, uh*huh)
yeah, we committin’ sins, double cc the lens (committin’ sins, cc the lens)
diamonds, you see through the tint, even at five percent
yeah, lil’ b*tch, i’m going in, can’t let up on these n*ggas ever again (yeah)
no, huh, never again, my n*gga, don’t call me your twin (again, twin)
just ’cause we f*cked the same b*tch, our money not the same length (uh*huh, oh)
they tryna knock me off, at least that’s what i heard
don’t get your face took off, lil’ p*ssy, you know i fly with the birds
tell me how much for the syrup? tell me how much for the— (brrt, brrt)
getting high ’til i leave earth, put that big body on the f*ckin’ curb, n*gga (yeah, phew)
tell me what’s the f*ckin’ word, n*gga (yeah, huh?)
tell me what’s the f*ckin’ word, p*ssy
tell me what’s the f*ckin’ word, b*tch, you heard? (huh?)
tell me what’s the f*ckin’ word, n*gga (haha)
heard that boy got sh*t bagged (boom, pow, ha)
they hit him all up in his stomach (ah!)
when i wake up in the mornin’, think about the money (money)
yeah, ha, wake up, think about the hundreds
[chorus]
swing your f*ckin’ pole, n*gga
act like you wanna do somethin’
she ride on the d*ck like a pole, n*gga
beat on that b*tch like a cucumber
these hoes ain’t gettin’ my new number
in the fast gle*ski, pushin’ it with my dior runners
yeah, i’m up three hundred*ball, i want a new hundred*ball
i want a big double r, no, i don’t pop handlebars (big double r)
no, i don’t recycle bars, i got a lot in my catalog (recycle bars)
i’m tryna put a new car, hah, in my motherf*ckin’ garage
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