Oh my God, did you hear the new Gucci Man album? I love Gucci Man! I love Kreayshawn! Let's get it Bumpin' Bumpin', yeah!
This is for my hoes, hoes in the secondhand clothes Who use their dollar bill to put the powder in they nose I love my hoes, hoes in the secondhand clothes Who use their dollar bill to put the powder in they nose Rich whore, rich whore, spending at the thrift store Line it up, line it up, sniff more, sniff more! Rich whore, rich whore, spending at the thrift store Line it up, line it up, sniff more, sniff more!
What up, bitch? I heard you go to FIDM What up, bitch? I see you dancin' with no rhythm What up, bitch? I know you like that gangsta rap But you'll prolly piss your pants if you ever seen the trap
I fuckin' hated school but I love my Trapper Keeper That's where I kept my work, go ahead and ask my teacher I got pretty features, "Did you major in photography?" Well, I did, and fuck that noise, I'm a self-taught prodigy Honestly, I'm probably a bonafide problem child I was born with hella steez, you had to go buy your style Ginger Spice, Ginger Spice, hustle hard since Fisher Price You offer up a couple lines, I just hit the swisher twice Sporty Spice, Sporty Spice, hustle hard for forty nights Forty days, 40k, forty hoes, forty wives Forty fashion students who designing all my merchandise And she hella shallow, damn, she could be my perfect wife!
This is for my hoes, hoes in the secondhand clothes Who use their dollar bill to put the powder in they nose I love my hoes, hoes in the secondhand clothes Who use their dollar bill to put the powder in they nose Rich whore, rich whore, spending at the thrift store Line it up, line it up, sniff more, sniff more! Rich whore, rich whore, spending at the thrift store Line it up, line it up, sniff more, sniff more!
What up, bitch? I heard you go to FIDM What up, bitch? I see you dancin' with no rhythm What up, bitch? I know you like that gangsta rap But you'll prolly piss your pants if you ever seen the trap
Broke house, poor house, crack house, trap house Art loft, sky freight, sky-high penthouse We in the downtown suite and the view is mayne A rapper talked about it so she had the system lame Her boyfriend's in an indie band and got a mustache The music's fuckin' lame, he lookin' like a muskrat Trust that, co-sign it, take it it to the bank You can put a pig in makeup but you can't disguise a skank I'm sharper than a shank and my marijuana stank My life is like a work of art, your canvas lookin' blank So add a little color, put some paint on your palette Because I fill them galleries, them painter hoes is mad at me!
Line it up, Line it up, Line it up, sniff it!
Line it up, Line it up, Line it up, sniff it!
Chop it up, Chop it up, Chop it up, sniff it!
Chop it up, Chop it up, Chop it up, sniff it!
This is for my hoes, hoes in the secondhand clothes Who use their dollar bill to put the powder in they nose I love my hoes, hoes in the secondhand clothes Who use their dollar bill to put the powder in they nose Rich whore, rich whore, spending at the thrift store Line it up, line it up, sniff more, sniff more! Rich whore, rich whore, spending at the thrift store Line it up, line it up, sniff more, sniff more!
What up, bitch? I heard you go to FIDM What up, bitch? I see you dancin' with no rhythm What up, bitch? I know you like that gangsta rap But you'll prolly piss your pants if you ever seen the trapTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
