Lyrics:
boobs and lip service
Changed up the name and start posting nudes on Insta stories
Her only fans jumpin' cause y'all watchin' from your TV
The moral
them lips
and let me look at that tongue
Thinkin' about how she fuck by the way she part them lips
and let me look at that tongue, get it?
That girl
(Woo!)
Black Barbie dressed in Bulgari
I'm tryin to leave in somebody's Ferrari
Spread love that's what a real mob do
Keep it gangsta look out for her
(Woo!)
Black Barbie dressed in Bulgari
I'm tryin to leave in somebody's Ferrari
Spread love that's what a real mob do
Keep it gangsta look out for her
(Woo!)
Black Barbie dressed in Bulgari
I'm tryin to leave in somebody's Ferrari
Spread love that's what a real mob do
Keep it gangsta look out for her
don't
And you don't and you don't and you don't
And you don't and you don't stop
This feelin' is unmatched
This feelin' is brought to you
By adrenaline
and his motherfuckin' benz
But chall can't get in just cus you all say you chall down wit us
And try to get around wit us, and hang around wit us,
they go from house to house
You don't have to pay the usual admission
If you're a cook, waiter or a good musician
So if you happen to be just passin' by
At the music lounge yeah
Sit back relax and enjoy the sound
And stand up and get live
And just move around
You are now in tune to the music lounge
And the host
black women,
Man,
cll of it's dead,
Cancel them,
Or me, or you,
Who's telling the truth?
Man,
cll of it's dead,
Gyal get BBLs,
cnd lip shots,
cnd tit
had
In that roadside attack
Tracey, stop bringing black blokes back
My legs and my arms all got
Blown off by an IED
And there’s just a little pink
o'clock, she said call her
So that I can come and get her 'fore she's picked up by her father
So I smashed up in the Malibu
How would you feel watchin
get the lips on your
Pussy swole playin' that pussy role
I got bars like phone car reception
But stay strapped like back packs, gat black
Biggie Smalls
in pain
Humpin', funkin', jumpin'
Jig around, shakin' ya rump
And when a doo-doo chump punk points a finger like a stump
Tell him step off, I'm
trips
Hit's model chicks without the bread
Moet bottles flip, I'm out my head yeah
Okay no more for me fuck it, one more for me
Send another round around
by
Stop in at the Saturday Night Fish Fry
It was rockin', it was rockin'
You never seen such scufflin' and shufflin' 'til the break of dawn
It was
the chips
I traced your lips with my fingertips
We toast to we with Margarit
Ta-tas, out the shells
Like a nut and a turtle
Ta-tas, rub the herbals
Jumpin
time no hear, man, what's up?
[James A. Smith]
Say man
People been kicking around a lot of hoe shit in my ears
[Too Black Records representative]
' in a bouncer
Every little nigga that's around ya
Will be buried around ya
Young black boy with an old black gun That bitch CCH Pounder
Lime green lean
in pain
Humpin', funkin', jumpin'
Jig around, shakin' ya rump
And when a doo-doo chump punk points a finger like a stump
Tell him step off, I'm
Choppa kinda old, but a new clip
Shoot your ass, put you on a news clip
Hope her two lips smell like tulips
Put you in the ground right next
a second with me
Suits of black, rushing into the sea
Speak in silence and smile out loud
They don't have to be proud
Drawn by Tyche's spell
Dancing around
chain jumpin', jumped inside a Range truck
Black on black, my F-250 you can't see the emblems
Windows tinted, slip through in it, you can't see who in
spitter with a pro black agenda
Supported by the black referendum
And this only a sliver of the splendor
Homie it's the sensei
A dope boy with a flow no lo
.jpg/201px-Johnny_Sansone_(7314701954).jpg "Jumpin' Johnny Sansone"){kind=spacer}
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