send it!
What's good I'm KP
I'm a beauty, but misunderstood
Just chiming, timing, writing rhymes
That you had never thought I could
Always riding on my bike
Speaker in the basket, strapped it to the front
Working writing
Making lightning
Yet lacking music 101
Never pick the phone up, but I'll still be your friend
Try to spend some time with you and see how we blend
And I know I act so selfish but I'll try to amend
All the bonds that I have broken
So let's see how this ends
So baby I think I could maybe
Make a pit stop
But you know my schedule's full always staring at the clock
So whenever I get time I'll try to
Spend it
When I ask for your location
Baby send it
Mmm
Criss-cross-applesauce
Hands on top your feet
I never been the typa bitch
To write my own damn beats
Cause the beats that they selling
Go for $30 in street
I must retreat
Cause I don't have the money
Broke bitches on the beat
Yeah you know that shit is funny
I'm hunting
For the dream that I been wanting
For so long
Ima make my bread
Writing all my motha-fucking songs
You'll sing along
Knowin' the shit I'm on
I'll write my wrongs
After I hit the bong do the shit
All mothafucking day long
Aye
Aye
Do the shit all day long
Write my mothafuckin songs
Songs
So baby I think I could maybe
Make a pit stop
But you know my schedule's full always staring at the clock
So whenever I get time I'll try to
Spend it
When I ask for your location
Baby send it
Mmm
I'm a beauty, but misunderstood
Just chiming, timing, writing rhymes
That you had never thought I could
Always riding on my bike
Speaker in the basket, strapped it to the front
Working writing
Making lightning
Yet lacking music 101
Never pick the phone up, but I'll still be your friend
Try to spend some time with you and see how we blend
And I know I act so selfish but I'll try to amend
All the bonds that I have broken
So let's see how this ends
So baby I think I could maybe
Make a pit stop
But you know my schedule's full always staring at the clock
So whenever I get time I'll try to
Spend it
When I ask for your location
Baby send it
Mmm
Criss-cross-applesauce
Hands on top your feet
I never been the typa bitch
To write my own damn beats
Cause the beats that they selling
Go for $30 in street
I must retreat
Cause I don't have the money
Broke bitches on the beat
Yeah you know that shit is funny
I'm hunting
For the dream that I been wanting
For so long
Ima make my bread
Writing all my motha-fucking songs
You'll sing along
Knowin' the shit I'm on
I'll write my wrongs
After I hit the bong do the shit
All mothafucking day long
Aye
Aye
Do the shit all day long
Write my mothafuckin songs
Songs
So baby I think I could maybe
Make a pit stop
But you know my schedule's full always staring at the clock
So whenever I get time I'll try to
Spend it
When I ask for your location
Baby send it
Mmm
Credits
Writer(s): Kathryn Woodworth
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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