lirikcinta.com
a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

kuttin up - teccmeta lyrics

Loading...

[chorus]
all of these hoes keep hittin’ my phone, don’t know what to do (what’s up?)
yeah, i’ll hit you back later, i told her, “i’m locked in, i’m in the stu'”
i’m in the booth, tryna run up all these blues
tryna geek up and get high as the moon
i show my gun to you, i’m finna shoot
my shooter do magic, make you poof
we really get money, i got proof
if i catch you outside, n*gga, then you done
f*ck all these n*ggas, they showin’ fake love, love, love, love (okay)
yeah, walk in the party, i’m turnt, i’m cookin’ up, up (for sure)
yeah, not talkin’ ’bout a ten, i’m sippin’ dirty soda (no bap)
yeah, my b*tch just brought [?], she keep me poured up
i nevеr downloaded tinder ’cause i got hoеs, yeah
i’m smokin’ gas, can’t remember, can’t remember, no, yeah

[verse]
yeah, yeah*yeah, rick owen boots, ooh*ooh (yeah)
you a thotty baby, i can’t f*ck with you, ooh
you get no money, n*gga, then we can’t be cool, ooh*ooh
droppin’ my top for the summer, bad b*tch in my cou*ou*oupe
expensive eating, now she wanna go to n0bu, woo*woo
rich livin’, ah, i wake up to a f*ckin’ mimosa
she cool, she vibe, but she know that i can’t never post her
tell her that she mine, and i put no one ever above her (uh*uh)
this new*gen america, i had to tell donald glover
this b*tch a freak, i wish i seen what she do undercovers (ugh)
she blowin’ d*ck bubbles
i got my bl!ck, trouble
b*tch, i’m not subtle (yeah)
i pop my sh*t, take photo (for sure)
my brand new whip a stolo (shh)
lil’ tecc’ can’t never fall off
i been sippin’ muddy, yo, don’t pass me no bottle
yeah, this a d*ck appointment, baby, don’t you call off
and don’t say you love me, quick way to get my d*ck soft
yeah, i pop at all these opp n*ggas, yeah, i gotta get my rocks off
yeah, i drop my nuts on n*ggas, ’cause i know all i do is ball
we can’t be seen outdoors, girl, i can’t take pics at the mall
she askin’, “could you be mine?”, and i just keep shruggin’ her off
[chorus]
all of these hoes keep hittin’ my phone, don’t know what to do (what’s up?)
yeah, i’ll hit you back later, i told her, “i’m locked in, i’m in the stu'”
i’m in the booth, tryna run up all these blues
tryna geek up and get high as the moon
i show my gun to you, i’m finna shoot
my shooter do magic, make you poof
we really get money, i got proof
if i catch you outside, n*gga, then you done
f*ck all these n*ggas, they showin’ fake love, love, love, love (okay)
yeah, walk in the party, i’m turnt, i’m cookin’ up, up (for sure)
yeah, not talkin’ ’bout a ten, i’m sippin’ dirty soda (no bap)
yeah, my b*tch just brought [?], she keep me poured up
i never downloaded tinder ’cause i got hoes, yeah
i’m smokin’ gas, can’t remember, can’t remember, no, yeah

Random Song Lyrics :

Popular

Loading...