Cameras

Camera camera camera paparazzi
Paparazzi yea
Niggas want the chili but ain't saucy
They ain't saucy no
Big loafs, I'm talking Panera
Big bread
Richard Millie on the time check the bezel
Bussin
Camera, camera, camera watch her pop it
Watch her pop it
Watch her ride with no hands when she saucy
When she sauce it up
Cameras camera camera watch her buss it
Like a model
And she throw that ass back full throttle throttle

Ain't trying run in my ex she gone be questioning me
I ain't got time none of ya biz don't be stressing me
Out of my mind, trying relax, don't press me
Know I got a new bitch so don't call my phone I won't answer
Damn you was a cancer so its cigarettes I smoke
I say fuck this shit and burn this shit down up in smoke
I can't take this shit I'm dying how the fuck I'm supposed to cope
But that's past life I'm asking baby, what we gonna eat now
Baby what's for dinner, what we gone order
I rather eat out, baby you the supper
Put it in ya mouth, going down south
You hotter summer, we touching til sun up
I hope you recover, way to many shots, okay
Don't expose you, yeah
Pose for the camera, its light show
Its a light show
We getting it in with the lights on
With the lights on
Keep the mic on
Mic on
Yea, I'm touching your body, that's my body baby, yea

Camera camera camera paparazzi
Paparazzi yea
Niggas want the chili but ain't saucy
They ain't saucy no
Big loafs, I'm talking Panera
Big bread
Richard Millie on the time check the bezel
Bussin
Camera camera camera watch her pop it
Watch her pop it
Watch her ride with no hands when she saucy
When she sauce it up
Cameras camera camera watch her buss it
Like a model
And she throw that ass back full throttle throttle
Bussin



Credits
Writer(s): Aaron Miller
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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