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Songs | Albums | Album Arts
| Song: | Staccato |
| Album: | | Genres: | Hip Hop |
| Year: | 2020 |
Length: | 156 sec |
Lyrics:
Fuckin' these bitches, they came out of Milano She want me to come, it ain't got all the time, no The other day I was broke, came back in designer Lil' mama left me alone, came back and the time's up Ayy, singin' to the bank, my money staccato I ain't on no bullshit, this ain't no Chicago I went from jettin' from stores, to jet in the sky though My nigga, the world yours, whatever's inside though Two twenties on my head, just made it to six-speed Used to have love for you bitches, now I'm like, 'Bitch, please' Now and then I gotta say it like my nigga Weeknd Fuck needin' a bitch, I'm what a bitch need Two hunnid thirty thousand on the Bentley So even when it's dirty, know my shit clean Got a thick bih, her name Christina Out Miami with the whip, hop out of Prestige, yeah Ayy, shawty know I been on some boss shit, ayy She fuckin' with me 'cause I'm a vibe, my nigga I spent twenty-five all on my side bitch And if I get caught, I'ma deny it I'ma deny it, I'm a fuckin' rider Got a bad bitch for the nigga, pussy fire She strip down like Malia or Maya And I been on the side tryna buy her some time off Ayy, I'm hotter than Folgers Money so thick, can't fold it, I told you Came back, put my baby mama in a Rover Card got no limit, bitch, I'm a soldier, ugh Fuckin' these bitches, they came out of Milano She want me to come, it ain't got all the time, no The other day I was broke, came back in designer Lil' mama left me alone, came back and the time's up Ayy, singin' to the bank, my money staccato I ain't on no bullshit, this ain't no Chicago I went from jettin' from stores, to jet in the sky though My nigga, the world yours, whatever's inside though Honey, am I wrong for thinkin' every woman wanna fuck me? And if she don't, she probably get it wet, it must be None of my biddies put no niggas above me I done pulled up Southside, all my bitches side-side of me Couldn't be a fake nigga if I tried to be Ayy, Louis Vuitton shorts, Dior, four-course Let a goofy nigga fuck and we can't fuck no more I'm a big money nigga on a jet Girl, give me that pussy, let me make it wet for ya I told you can get the world, baby, if you rep the set She was out before the check Alphabet, I'm a G, fuck her ex, no sweat To the left, to the left, to the left Everything you fuckin' own is in a box to the left Ayy, I'm on the yachty, I got them thots to the left She a bop, I'ma flex, got rocks for my neck, yeah Fuckin' these bitches, they came out of Milano She want me to come, it ain't got all the time, no The other day I was broke, came back in designer Lil' mama left me alone, came back and the time's up Ayy, singin' to the bank, my money staccato I ain't on no bullshit, this ain't no Chicago I went from jettin' from stores, to jet in the sky though My nigga, the world yours, whatever's inside though
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