Buddy Pass

She's blowing up my phone
She's blowing up my phone
Cuz my girl ain't home
Cuz my girl ain't home

She wanna come to the criiib
She blowin up my phone
She just wanna come & chill
She see my girl ain't home
She wanna buddy passs
She wanna buddy passs
She just wanna buddy passs
She wanna buddy passs
She wanna buddy

Drip talk, trip talk, I could make yo bitch talk
But why the fuck would I do that, have you seen my bitch walk
Pump like runway, Monday-Sunday
She love da GUN play, sex like palm-na
Oops mean napalm
Hoes know what they on
Cuz they see what he on
No time for peons
Please keep the beat on
I likes my freedom
She must think he dumb
Riches to be bum

Feel so right but its so wrong
Me and you we just shouldn't get along
We just should not be alone... you know my girl is gone
I gotta stay strong man that might be it for me
And then she text me shawty where you wanna meet
We can keep it in the states or we can take it overseas
She like what's poppin' what's it gon be
But every time she pop in, she never wanna leave
I'm over here thinking if I will or if I won't
I know you prolly thinking that i gave her what she want
Nigga ima g & ill never be a chump
And plus she didn't make the flight cuz she kept getttin bumped

She wanna come to the criiib
She blowin up my phone
She just wanna come & chill
She see my girl ain't home
She wanna buddy passs
She wanna buddy passs
She just wanna buddy passs
She wanna buddy passs
She wanna buddy

She want a buddy pass... she want a buddy
She want a buddy pass... she want a buddy



Credits
Writer(s): Ryan Anthony Agard, Terrance Morgan
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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