Get The City Lit

So many birds in my nest
It's a miracle
I ain't hatched any eggs
She know I'm strong
I ain't gotta flex
She my ex
Still respond to texts
I don't reply less
It's bout the neck
Tongue don't dance
Less there's a cheque
Son don't romance
With no trick
My whole plans
To get the city lit

They talk bout grams
But not me mami
Call me Big Kilo Papi
I got enough to numb your body
You Kelly Rowland
Lay it on me
Had a girl in Retreat
She didn't ever want me to leave
She was quite good
On her knees
Mami really knew how to praise me
Had a dime in Eersterivier
She always lemme do as I please
I was low-key her crush
Cause she liked me
Still waters run deep
Gotta few from the Plain
And somehow they all the same
But they all different
I can't explain
But they all have my bou
When you speak my name

Ek hoer die mense praat
Van ons wen net aanmekaar
They know I rep The Kaap
I got hunnies all over brah
Plus my ouens are the shit
Bet they'll still want
A whiff of this
When we aim we cannot miss
We just here to get the city lit

So many birds in my nest
It's a miracle
I ain't hatched any eggs
She know I'm strong
I ain't gotta flex
She my ex
Still respond to texts
I don't reply less
It's bout the neck
Tongue don't dance
Less there's a cheque
Son don't romance
With no trick
My whole plans
To get the city lit

Don't so close to this trap
I might melt ya
Flex some bread crumbs
Yeah you know you a vulture
Think that you hot but you not
Hotter than me and Kulture
None of the fuss
As she took off my belt yeah
Told the lord I ain't
Going back to the set yeah
Making moves in silent
I'll never tell ya
Kick some bad habits
Now my pockets swell yeah
Kick yo bitch out
And dog she ain't angry
Marrying me
You marrying the money
Playing with me
That shit never funny
I be walking while
Your nigga be running
Yeaaaaaaah
I be walking
While your nigga be running
She say she wanna fuck
I put dick in her tummy
Say she wanna fuck
I put dick in her tummy

So many birds in my nest
It's a miracle
I ain't hatched any eggs
She know I'm strong
I ain't gotta flex
She my ex
Still respond to texts
I don't reply less
It's bout the neck
Tongue don't dance
Less there's a cheque
Son don't romance
With no trick
My whole plans
To get the city lit



Credits
Writer(s): Imran Ebden
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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