Daddy

Young Face

She call me daddy
Yuh, I ain't got no kids
But the way she talkin' to me
You would probably think I did
She call me daddy
Yuh, I ain't got no kids
But the way she talk to me
You'd think I'm her guardian

She call me daddy (daddy)
Bitch, I got those long socks
Underneath my brown Crocs
Drinkin' whiskey on rocks
Like I'm her daddy (ayy, ayy)
Wearing boot-cut pants
Only know one dance
Talkin' 'bout finance

I got them
New Balance all white (all white)
Business class on my flight (that's boujee)
Get to the airport at dawn (dawn)
But the flight's eleven at night (yeah)
Your bitch callin' my phone (yello?)
She wanna hop in my pickup (what?)
But I ain't gonna pick up (nah)
'Cause I might miss the kickoff (ayy!)

She call me daddy (daddy!)
Yuh, I ain't got no kids
But the way she talkin' to me
You would probably think I did
She call me daddy (ayy, oh!)
Yuh, I ain't got no kids (nah)
But the way she talk to me
You'd think I'm her guardian

Netflix and Chill (that's right)
She wanna make a move on me (goddamn)
But when she go to try
She gon' see that I'm asleep (I'm 'sleep)
When there's a storm comin'
I can feel it in my knees
Bitch, I got those bad joints
Like high schoolers dealing weed

Now I'm all up in that left lane (left lane!)
You know I'm driving like I'm insane (skrrt skrrt!)
You know I'm all up on that Bluetooth (Hey Greg!)
No turn signal lane change (oopsies)
Now she wanna go dancin'
But I can't 'cause you know I got back pain (euuugh!)
Ringtone turned all the way up
But I still can't hear it when that bitch ring

She call me daddy (daddy!)
Yuh, I ain't got no kids (nah)
But the way she talkin' to me
You would probably think I did
She call me daddy (baseball)
Yuh, I ain't got no kids (nah)
But the way she talk to me
You'd think I'm her guardian
She call me daddy



Credits
Writer(s): Andrei Khalilov, Unknown Unknown
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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