willy wonka - yungfrenchfry lyrics
[intro]
aye uh, who up w*llyin’ they wonka right now?
oh wait* i got this, who up wonkin’ they w*lly?
is that what it is? i don’t f*cking know what the f*ck this sh*t is n*gga
f*ck it at this point, i don’t give a f*ck
[chorus]
okay like lean with it, rock with it, b*tch get to poppin’ it
i think yo b*tch want a piece of my chocolate
doing drivebys with a beam and a glock in it
he think he me, but that n*gga the opposite
been ballin’ i tore my achilles. (aye)
her clothes are half off like it’s tillys (aye)
and she want the pickle, no dilly. (aye)
and she ’bout to wonk on my w*lly (aye)
aye lean with it, rock with it, b*tch get to poppin’ it
i think yo b*tch want a piece of my chocolate
doing drivebys with a beam and a glock in it
he think he mе, but that n*gga the opposite
been ballin’ i tore my achillеs. (aye)
her clothes are half off like it’s tillys (aye)
and she want the pickle, no dilly. (aye)
and she ’bout to wonk on my w*lly (aye)
[verse]
aye, okay let’s shimmy
calling it a dime and not a penny
and i ain’t talking one, b*tch i’m talking ’bout many
i need me some biddies that eat it like denny’s
but b*tch you can keep her if she way too friendly (wait friendly?)
yeah if that b*tch way too friendly, i need me a b*tch that’s gon’ bust like a semi
i ain’t finna text you, i’m countin’ my zenny
and b*tch i ain’t stoppin’ until i got plenty. (okay)
these n*ggas don’t know who they f*ckin’ with
i ain’t finna stop ’til i’m f*ckin’ big
she told me she loved me, and after she f*ck me i told her that i wasn’t cuffin’ it
these n*ggas don’t know who they f*ckin’ with
i ain’t finna stop ’til i’m f*ckin’ big
and i don’t love you, i love money b*tch
i don’t got time for a hoe that don’t suck d*ck
[chorus]
okay like lean with it, rock with it, b*tch get to poppin’ it
i think yo b*tch want a piece of my chocolate
doing drivebys with a beam and a glock in it
he think he me, but that n*gga the opposite
been ballin’ i tore my achilles. (aye)
her clothes are half off like it’s tillys (aye)
and she want the pickle, no dilly. (aye)
and she ’bout to wonk on my w*lly (aye)
okay like lean with it, rock with it, b*tch get to poppin’ it
i think yo b*tch want a piece of my chocolate
doing drivebys with a beam and a glock in it
he think he me, but that n*gga the opposite
been ballin’ i tore my achilles. (aye)
her clothes are half off like it’s tillys (aye)
and she want the pickle, no dilly. (aye)
and she ’bout to wonk on my w*lly (aye)
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