One More Take

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah

I might need some new hoes
Tired of my old ones
Undertaker: tombstone
I shine like there's no sun
My new bitch is two-toned
Dry it up, it's all gone
I just got a new phone
Sorry I don't come home

I will not debate none of this
I see all the hate
All the love we take
Glad she wanna take home a kiss
I think she wanna date
Pet that kitty like it was my own
Take a break
Let me hit it like I'm running home
Leave the shake on the table

I might smoke it
She put on her choker
Yeah, ima poke it
Zuckerburg on the poster, yeah
We could live out a roadster, yeah
We could pop out, no toaster, yeah
Everything I do is for my gang
I make the crowd feel closer, yeah

Stayed down til I came up
I ain't like what I seen, so I changed up
Then I went back down into my cave
And I studied what I seen on your stage, huh

I might need some new hoes
Tired of my old ones
Undertaker: tombstone
I shine like there's no sun
My new bitch is two-toned
Dry it up, it's all gone
I just got a new phone
Sorry I don't come home

I'm just too fluid, I just be moving
Yall lookin' stupid
Way I'm grooving
Not even one of yall impresses me at all
But can I get with you?
Lately, know she seen me, woah
All up on the phone, she tryna get some more
Over shores, to the beach, which way we flying?
We too spicy for Hawaii, need a different island
Always be on TV, but this is just a show
Know she seeing what I'm saying, what she acting for?
Gimme, gimme good faith for all the times we was on
Can we go back and forth, back, back and forth
And she love me, and she love me
Which way it go?
And she love my style, yeah, love the flow

(Come home)

I might need some new hoes
Tired of my old ones
Undertaker: tombstone
I shine like there's no sun
My new bitch is two-toned
Dry it up, it's all gone
I just got a new phone
Sorry I don't come home

I will not debate none of this
I see all the hate
All the love we take
Glad she wanna take home a kiss
I think she wanna date
Pet that kitty like it was my own
Take a break
Let me hit it like I'm running home
Leave the shake on the table

I might smoke it
She put on her choker
Yeah, ima poke it
Zuckerburg on the poster, yeah
We could live out a roadster, yeah
We could pop out, no toaster, yeah
Everything I do is for my gang
I make the crowd feel closer, yeah



Credits
Writer(s): Christopher Mcleod
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

Link