Nigga ask where B.o.B been at
Well I'll tell you where I been
Not on Epstein's Island
At home, not dick-riding
(What yo ass say?)
Stacking Tubmans
I ain't no thug
But I'm thuggin
They say don't judge
But I'm judging
Married to the game
I'm her husband
On numerous occasions
They inquire
Like "were you cloned
And why did you go quiet?"
Everybody holler "Stay woke!"
Well even woke nigga get tired
Took a snooze and got my mind off the rumors
You in her DMs and I'm in her
Uterus, ghetto exuberance, dapper accouterments, my truest thoughts are intrusive
Yo soy Tu Daddy
She throw it back like
"Is it good daddy?"
She wanna Shibari
I put them 10k ropes on her body
Now She wanna party
Her and her friend
Ask if I'm poly
I told em pro'ly
Girl it's yo world
Do what you want
It's your choice
It's your body
Big-Booty hoes
Hump wit it
Big-Booty hoes
Hump wit it
It don't take Sherlock Holmes
To see you got Stockholm syndrome
I'm a paradoxical nigga
Walk into a room and start a schism
(What yo ass say?)
They must not know
They must need reminding
I will never fold
You can't origami
Oh you ain't know my pen was crazier?
She love my southern embolalia
Nutty Bish Macadamia
Stacking that bank, Azalea
Industry plants, hydrangeas
No I don't know who these strangers is
I haven't the slightest
Musta got overnighted
How she
She gon
When I
Abawaka Abawaka
She "rrrikkErrriKkk"
On my Dik like serato
Like I flip the switch
She on auto
Told me hit her shit in staccato
Like "Who you think you talking to? Girl, you know I'm Bobby Ray!"
This the part of the show
Where we find out
It's debaucherous shit just be scandalous
Bitches be flying out
Remember when rappers would fake it
Like they was all rowdy row
Now nigga catch bodies fr
And ain't no one lying now
Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)
