Wholelotta (Bonus)

(Glamour boy)
Pushin' the work
Got it straight from the trenches
Flip it out in the burbs
Better not step on our turf
Super swag so I curve
I don't have time for these hoes
Focus on my racks
Move the fam to a new estate
Got my denim and some
Bad bitch, told her gimme face
Wait, Hugo
Talkin' bout numero uno
Pull out that pussy then kudos
Dribble that heart like I'm Pedro
She fell in love, I said hell no
She ain't the one, just a demo
She said, "Please stay"
Give her top, no way
All day
Super drip always
Her man is still shopping at Zara (Grow up)
I hit FarFetch and cop me some (Flex up)

Shut the fuck up, you talkin' crazy
Say you love me
It's like (what)
You talk shit for a living, that's why (huh)
I jus' wan' money
So bitch back the fuck away from me (Ok!)

Lately I've been fucked up, couple hunnids for the kilo
Three O's in the bag, I had to bank 'em with a free throw
Quality control narcos, I run it through amigos
Pops just copped the boofy and he stashed it at the cribbo
Bad bitch from Brazil, drop-in that pussy like a sinkhole
My local girl fuck good but all this money make her evil
Swear she from the hood, her last name nasty like she Rico
Say I got a magic stick, she married but she single (tragic)
I can't be a fool, bitch
Fucking on that teen witch
Eat her berry, make it split
She suck the dick with plenty spit
Walkin' with a long pipe
Make a move, they on sight
Aiming with a Elo
Beat a hoe, that bitch boy gon' die
We don't stop at red lights
Give that redhead red pipe
Red cream, red sprite
Pour me up a red pint
Red-eye on this red flight
YSL, real tight
That boy try to zoom, he gon' end up in a red line (Pop!)

Shut the fuck up, you talkin' crazy
Say you love me
It's like (what)
You talk shit for a living, that's why (huh)
I jus' wan' money
So bitch back the fuck away from me (Ok!)



Credits
Writer(s): Hugo Pooe
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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