BASIC BITCH!
Splurge
paroles Splurge BASIC BITCH!

Splurge - BASIC BITCH! Lyrics & Traduction

Six7 on the beat
Yeah, go
Haha, yeah, yeah

We hit the plug, then we ran off and start jugging
We upping Glocks on everybody mugging
Tell the plug bring the pints in by the dozens
Me and the plug cool, thought we were cousins
I see 'em watching, they keeping tabs
They tryna see what I got, do the math
They don't even know I spent five on some Rafs
They don't even know my head high like giraffe
Nut in her mouth then I'm kicking her out
We pushin' up to see what you talk 'bout
Been fucking hoes even before the clout
Pints in the fridge, pull 'em out in the drought
They think I'm older cause I gave 'em game
That bitch got famous, I gave her a name
RIP Mom, bitch ain't nothin' lame
RIP Jason, he gave me that thang
Ride with that shit every day 'cause they want me
Think I'ma be broke in 10 years bitch, I won't be
Stay to myself but I want beef
Ain't got money, I don't want beef
These niggas bitch, they be talkin' to police
Trap out the spot, your ho name on the lease
Tired of the 'Vette, finna go get a Jeep
Trap out the phone, when it ring it go beep
Yah, I roll that motherfucking gas up
Bought her the twin thirty, stay spittin' gas up
Damn, I'm feeling good 'cause I got it
Yeah, I only roll Backwood exotics
Double-S-G, I'll die for that shit
Try to send a ho, you gon' die with that bitch
Keep it a hundred, a rack, I won't switch
A rack ain't enough, that ain't even a 'fit
Bitch I need ten-ten, big ass watch on my arm like Ben-10
Had a young nigga in bushes, he blend in
You supposed to be in a hole for somethin' you been did
Boy you gon' die, your door getting kicked in
I wasn't there, I was somewhere out of state
That was a hotel, she don't know where I stay
I ride with the K, niggas know we don't play
Spent a bag on the skinnies, nigga, ain't nothing gay
I rock the Gucci, tote that Desert Eagle
Chop with an eye, like to eat people
Niggas be tryna be me, we ain't equal
I'ma get head from that bitch and eat seafood
Chasin' the bag, never chasin' a ho
Talk too much, put the beam to his throat
Make sure the lick is a green, it's a go
Make sure they got pints of lean and the dough
Make sure we there, when nobody knows
Twelve gauge, somebody in here, let's blow
Nobody move, everybody on the floor
Look for everything, make sure we score
You know I'm official, gotta play this
Ride with the Glock in my city, I hate it
Don't get mad at your bitch 'cause she ate it
I turned her up, that bitch used to be basic


Paroles2Chansons dispose d’un accord de licence de paroles de chansons avec la Société des Editeurs et Auteurs de Musique (SEAM)