Swing (feat. Bree Runway)

Say hello to my little friend

Get that dick out, get that helicopter ready
My pussy is a heli-pad, I sauce up his spaghetti
Bolognese baby, little meat in my sauce
Queen of Italy, sharin' some to the mob
I don't like spaghetti, I like tagliatelle
I don't fuck with a penne boy 'cause he not mozzarelly
I need something heavy, so fuck vermicelli
Need a big fat cannoli to come and fill up my belly, what

Let it swing, let it out
Let it swing, let it out
Let it swing, let it out
Let it swing (Let it swing)
Let it swing, let it out
Let it swing, let it out
Let it swing, let it out
Let it swing

Come and meet the boss (Rrah, rrah, rrah)
Fuck with me and it's a loss
Kill shot to the ops
You don't wanna double cross
Come and meet the boss (Yeah, I'm the boss)
Come and meet the boss
Fuck with me and it's a loss (It's a motherfuckin' loss)
Kill shot to the ops (What, what, a kill shot)

Pierced his ball sack with my stilletto (Rrah)
'Cause he didn't listen, didn't match my tempo
Kiss the pinky ring in the back of the Benzo
S550 and it ain't no rental
Body in the Benz and in the Gucci bag (Oops)
Blood on the interior and on the tags
If Vinny ask too many questions, I tell him to relax
Or sweet nonni gonna pay inheritance tax (Ooh, bitch)

Uh, all that and then some (Uh)
Butt big like a mansion (Oh yeah)
Oh, he think he handsome (Ooh)
Run me back my bands, son (Ah)
Sing my name like a anthem (Uh huh)
Blow it out in the Phantom (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
These bitches random
Call it what it is, it's a fandom (Yeah)
Oh, you a enemy
Soul-sucking my energy
Oh, she think she ahead of me?
Oh, she think she ahead of me (Mm, yeah, man)
Goddess power, divinity
From beyond to infinity (Ooh)
I'm too blessed to be stressed to be
I am something you'll never be, uh

Let it swing, let it out
Let it swing, let it out
Let it swing, let it out
Let it swing
Let it swing, let it out
Let it swing, let it out
Let it swing, let it out
Let it swing

Come and meet the boss (Rrah, rrah, ah)
Fuck with me and it's a loss
Kill shot to the ops (Uh, kill shot)
You don't wanna double cross (Nah, you don't wanna)
Come and meet the boss (Yeah, yeah, I'm the boss)
Come and meet the boss (What, what, I'm the boss)
Fuck with me and it's a loss (It's a loss, bitch)
Kill shot to the ops (Ooh, oh)

Let it swing, let it out
Let it swing, let it out
Let it swing, let it out
Let it swing, let it out
Let it swing, let it out
Let it swing, let it out
Let it swing, let it out
Let it swing, let it out



Credits
Writer(s): Brooke Candy, Oscar Benjamin Alexander Scheller, Ashton Nicole Casey
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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