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they fucked up - that mexican ot & sauce walka lyrics

[intro]
(g&b)

[chorus: that mexican ot]
(they f*cked up)
you can’t eat at my table, i got no food for you (b*tch, it’s up)
.300 blackouts in this clip gon’ sing the blues for you (we gon’ dump)
this big ol’ thooka on my waist got a big bang, booyah
we gon’ send them thangs through you
boonk gang on his chain, ooh, yeah

[verse 1: that mexican ot]
uh, wanted woody, i need me a rag like jessie
she say she like to f*ck real messy
i be chillin’ in the green like dressing (icy)
you can skate on my t**th like gretzky
cadillac got horsepower, i call it betsy
i don’t need no friends ’cause the money my bestie
sixty*eight*year*old b*tch tryna say i’m s*xy
you can take out your denturеs and l!ck on these testеs
i’m tryna f*ck, then kick it like messi
haters be hatin’, but they really bless me
i can sleep when i die, i ain’t got time for restin’ (right on)
g&b done it again, so i gotta go in and go dumb in this b*tch
i was born broke, but the tongue roll made your boy pro, made a promise, i gotta die rich
baby tellin’ me that i won’t smile for sh*t
lately, i been thinkin’ of my mama and sh*t
(eat the food, tina, you fat lard)
stick got a long neck like a llama and sh*t
yopper soundin’ like a helicopter and sh*t (hrrt)
you f*ckin’ cornball, don’t n0body wanna f*ck with your p*ssy ass, boy
[chorus: that mexican ot]
(they f*cked up)
you can’t eat at my table, i got no food for you (b*tch, it’s up)
.300 blackouts in this clip gon’ sing the blues for you (we gon’ dump)
this big ol’ thooka on my waist got a big bang, booyah
we gon’ send them thangs through you
boonk gang on his chain, ooh, yeah

[verse 2: sauce walka]
syrup, wockhardt by the case load
she wanna eat me for breakfast, won’t let go my eggo
walkin’ on fire, that fuego
lay on a boat with a b*tch, not miami, this daygo
why lazy n*ggas want sympathy? that really riddle me
holdin’ up the pinky ring, mini*me
twenty elbows on the ground, that’s a centipede
daddy say i got too many cars in the street
epoxy, wockhardt in the floorplan
she came red and yellow birkin, she hopin’
how is you thirty with no bands?
that’s like tryna fly a plane that got no fans
slap a soft rapper with both hands
daddy and his uncle right at the dope stand
you want some of this sh*t too, old man? mm, nope
all of my lyrics is dope
heroin, opium, coke, bricks on a boat
louis boots cleaner than soap
she got veneers on my d*ck, they as white as the pope, pause
really the wizard of flows, oz
not even prison got those bars
front or the back of the bus
it don’t matter, my n*gga, i still got the rolls parked (oohwee)
[chorus: that mexican ot & sauce walka]
(they f*cked up)
you can’t eat at my table, i got no food for you (b*tch, it’s up, it’s up)
.300 blackouts in this clip gon’ sing the blues for you (we gon’ dump, gon’ dump)
this big ol’ thooka on my waist got a big bang, booyah (bang)
we gon’ send them thangs through you (them thangs)
boonk gang on his chain, ooh, yeah (his chain, they f*cked up)
you can’t eat at my table, i got no food for you (oohwee, sh*t, b*tch, it’s up)
.300 blackouts in this clip gon’ sing the blues for you (drip, we gon’ dump)
this big ol’ thooka on my waist got a big bang, booyah (splash, splash)
we gon’ send them thangs through you (woo)
boonk gang on his chain, ooh, yeah (woo)

[outro: sauce walka]
woo
woohoo
yee*hoo
drip, good drip

- that mexican ot sauce walka lyrics

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