Lyrics:
tore out
When I wanna go out, red carpets get rolled out
There's a lot of you's, there's only one me
They are not confused by the wannabe
There's
the track of the beat watch Bobby flip the metronome
High voltage, keep my seat in winsbro cultured
Kill enemies by mailin them the poison glue postage
I do what a nigga gotta do
Got goons, I ain't even gotta shoot
Got a bunch of bad bitches by the pool
I like my bitches in two's
Gotta go, I
Two thousand and seventy-three
Two thousand and eighty-four
Two thousand and ninety-three
Light years ahead
You and me gon' be gettin' down
a pall bearer there
No Newports, Marlboro's here, go smoke that
The smoke in your face, bitch, I ain't never cared
Get shot down when the Ghost smell
Walk up the driveway endlessly curving
Go through the front door, it's so inviting
Baronial great hall once so exciting
Haunted by shadows faces
you finna go
My paper's so long and bitch I'm finna blow
Big wads in my hands at all times
Bombay Gin dance and hoes is all mine
Please don't lose your
life
I skied a bitch and tell her punk ass good night
Unless you tight...Like a R and B bitch
Like Toni Braxton or Jenny Lopez
Go ahead, go ahead
in your mind knowin you a trick
Put your hustle down playa go an hit you a lick
Bitch!
(That's writ, Too Scheezi, Ant Banks, Forty Fonzarelli,
story, gotta clear it by your daddy, yeah (yeah, yeah)
FBG, YSL, what's hannenin'? (What's hannenin'?)
Richard Mille, all this year, nigga, what's
only G
(Snoop)
It's Snoop, homies from the motherfuckin get-go
Devoted and quotin, back in '84
I was thirteen, G was a year older
But I still wadn't
the mattress, then fill up another one
Fuck on her in that Patek, I bought her another one
Kick my shit, I'm in this bitch, we're lit by three hoes (lit by, lit
be hurtin', writing all of these songs
'Cause Wi-Fi wasn't working, last year in total
I put out two verses
But five seven figures since then,
Two thousand and seventy-three
Two thousand and eighty-four
Two thousand and ninety-three
Light years ahead
You and me gon' be gettin' down
For the last eight years rode around in a Mercedes
Lexus, trucks, drop-Vette, Caddy
Bitches don't call me by my name they call me daddy
Chorus
Parker's dad
Came by today to see me and
He wondered if I'd like to go
With him and Billy on a hike
And maybe camp out overnight
The way I've seen them
in your mind knowin you a trick
Put your hustle down playa go an hit you a lick
Bitch!
(That's writ, Too Scheezi, Ant Banks, Forty Fonzarelli,
I be forever thuggin' baby!
The same nigga that's why the streets still love me baby!
Bitch I'm from Dade County.
See I'm a 7-Trey Chevrolet
I be forever thuggin' baby!
The same nigga that's why the streets still love me baby!
Bitch I'm from Dade County.
See I'm a 7-Trey Chevrolet
for me
First the one
And then came the two and three and four
Five, six, seven, shots from a MAC-11
Platinum producer killed by haters
Tonight
I just told Pee, "This really niggas' worst nightmare, man
They don't wanna see Lil Baby with the Barbie" (Papi Yerr)
Tell 'em my Nina, my bitch
Probably'll try it and probably like it
I can't know, what, he probably a psychic?
I know a crazy bitch by the look in her eyes
I know a cheating bitch gonna
on tour
I express the raw dialect and explore
But don't get fooled by metaphor
Double oh seven is back
Rest assured
Feel secure
Rest assured
inch wheels is what I roll
And when I pass yo bitch all outta control
[Baby]
Buyin' Lexus Land Cruisers
The 4-7 the big pipe user
Hoe abuser
[Manny
Discuss these go by 7 year bitch Lyrics with the community:
Report Comment
We're doing our best to make sure our content is useful, accurate and safe.
If by any chance you spot an inappropriate comment while navigating through our website please use this form to let us know, and we'll take care of it shortly.
Attachment
You need to be logged in to favorite.
Log In