HUMPTY DUMPTY

Ayy, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
What? What? What? What? What? What?
Them hits don't make no sense
Ayy

When I wake up, yes, I talk the talk and I walk the walk
Look at me, ma, I'm the flyest of them all
Hide my belongings in the wall, bad bitches in the hall
Double cup of muddy trouble, Humpty Dumpty on the wall
Call that boy Plankton 'cause he tryna steal the formula (SpongeBob)
Pull up like some diapers, wet some shit like baby formula
My dick don't belong to you, this shit is uncompatible
And from the looks of it, you not fuckin' fashionable (You dusty)
High school, I used to rock the Robin jeans with the Robin wings
20K walk light, lookin' for a scheme
Take your ho over yonder, beat up in her spleen
My diamonds Bruno Mars dancing at spring fling
Worried about my cash, I want the green, Irish Spring
This shit is finger lickin', nigga, bon appetit
I like my hoes petite with a sprinkle of freak

Hold up, ayy, ayy, ayy
Lean with it, rock with it
Drinkin' soda pop, yeah
Head look like a mop, yeah
Bitch, I pop like Pop Rocks
Yeah, that my white tee
Bitch, I'm so icy
She wanna one night me
Do it like Nike
Uh, yeah
Water on my neck and wrist, uh
Bitch, I'm ballin' just like pass assist, uh, yeah
Wanna know who I am, bitch, then come again, uh, yeah
Bitch, I feel like 50, like it's many men, yeah

Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy
Turn the speakers up, listen to the fucking bass
And I got the money in the bank, yes, Chase
And I'm smoking that weed, it might just be laced
And I'll beat back 'til it fuckin' break
I wanna go bowling
Your mama need growing
On my dick, she belonging
Her titties fuckin' showing
Is it raining? (Is it raining?)
Are you playing (Are you playing)
Hop on the plane (Hop on the plane)



Credits
Writer(s): James William Jr Sturr
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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