Lyrics:
boy
Lil' bitch I'm bout to slap you with my hat boy
I ain't feeling good I'm feeling stressed
Cause this shits the worst party ever
Yeah there's some
good you suck dick
So imma play it slick when I get her attention
When she talk I listen, with this pimpin it's a given
Baby ain't a bad decision, we got
fuckin' slick
(Y'all niggas ain't shit)
Ya bitches suck a dick
(Y'all niggas want this bitch)
You think you fuckin' slick?
Ya bitches suck a dick
with the boys
Play with the real thing, not with no toys
Reload a mag cuz it give joy
Cockin it back, like I'm inside a Royce
Doin a drive by with this
But bitches
Lick on the nuts and suck the dick
Big Boy know, they ain't nothin' but hoes
You can jump up on this dick
Like a morphodyke biatch!
Look, look
These niggas lied to me way back
Said this was where my buck stop
Ridin' right by in my fly shit
These niggas still at that bus stop
right there that’s how we wreck party shout out dj Lbanga whipping the beat up, once again this your boy Skorch Flamez philly favorite hot boy and I’m
Forgees still by the Jordan, block a zone shit, DeAndre Jordan (block)
Fuck nigga said a nigga too boring (boring) suck me up while this bih recording
wanna be a mobbin' mane
Broke boy, broke ass, better get your funds up
Saucin' on a party lame, tossin' up a tardy claim
You gon' run up on me, you gon'
you can tell by my face boy
That bad bitch she call me hellboy
Bitches want my dick they can call my cell, boy
I just wanna bitch I can call my playboy
this generation suck?
This generation sucks.
Tryna make my parents proud,
Thought 23 would turn around,
They fell in love in '81,
Now all these boys
making ends meat
Shoutout to Zeke yeah, for preaching bout instincts
I'm back in the street boy but this time I'm In sync
Meet me in the city girl I need
demon just look in my eyes
Im so litty i cannot deny
At the function surrounded by dimes
AOT crazy we not hard to find
This is not a party you can enter
The party ain't over (Polow)
The party ain't over (Bet that up, boy)
The party ain't over
(It's Mr wW, Mr worldwide)
It's 3 AM and (It's Usher, baby,
Listen to this track bitch!
Grind til' it's morning
I count it as soon as I wake up
I grind til' it's morning (The AM)
I count it as soon as I wake
phoned my phone
We regulate all the class A sales
This is the final
I will split Skepta's head with a vinyl
Or tell him to suck his girls vaginal
a party
He kaka
Me and this shorty
We aim it up
Don't fuck with my guys we about to get lit
I am fucking this bitch she giving me a hicky
Spinning your
of ya'll messing with this country sound
Them boys sent me with some new country
We rock Fords and lift kits with gun racks and mud on 'em
Ain't scared
where I come from
Pass that bubble thrax and put this bean on your tongue
Now everything was gravy 'til your bitch came in
Bout the same time that that
and put this bean on your tongue
Now everything was gravy til your bitch came in
Bout the same time that that thing kicked in
Now she ain't really pretty
it's a celebration
Party all day, I know you've been waitin' (here we go!)
A congratulations (woo!), it's a celebration
I just wanna tell you that I
know it hurts
Time sucks
But time heals
Time sucks
But time heals
It can't fix anymore of this pain in my chest
Where else can I go?
I drive to drive
Uh look sucker, this my gun butter
Street fighter bitches, this the up cutter
Nun-chucker, no time to ducka'
Sign of the cross 'cause this is her
I turn heads
You would have thought that this was a reverse parking manoeuvre
And when you're listening to Boy Better Know
You're listening
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