B* Please

Big Boy Dom right here
Gon fuck this shit up
Mans don't know about life
I came from the dirt and the street (Street!)
Man's got some of strife
Beat it up beat it up, I beat up
Grew up with a moma
Grew up with no father
Ain't got no shame, lame with that thang, no drama
I've been here, I've been that
I've been me, I've been him
I've been they but still they ain't got no brain
Made a tbs, ain't no fakes no b's
To attract some ass without some assets
Bitch, please I'm obsessed
With the racks, with the bands, count the checks
Bitch, ez I'm obsessed
With a clothing designer like my bitch is
I'm steaming, I'm beaming, I'm shining
On em, with a gleaming on my body, yeah, yeah, I'm winning
Bounce back, bounce back, to past
Where my father left me alone with mother, we live like casket

Man's, he repped the set
He bet, you're next, tagged
To get killed on the set
Man's, he repped the set
He bet, you're next, tagged
To get killed on the set

Got hoes, got those
Like a fine wine Moscato's
Never mind, another hotline bling
That gives me adios
Okay wait, no I can't forget
When you leave the set
Had to drive around
To reset
And catch a threat
In my head
But I had to stand like cadet
On offset, not on set
It's preset

Man's, he repped the set
He bet, you're next, tagged
To get killed on the set
Man's, he repped the set
He bet, you're next, tagged
To get killed on the set



Credits
Writer(s): Dominick Duarte
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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