Lunch Lady
I know they ain't ready for this one
I know, they ain't ready for this one
(Billy on the track)
I think it's 'bout time they tuned in
Why don't you go and tell 'em something
I am a maniac
Call my bluff
My bitch told me she likes it rough
I'm a dog, Clifford like 'ruff'
She said, "Billy, you play too much"
Well, I play too much
I'm the only person I trust
Another one bites the dust
Another one bites the dust
She's thick as a motherfuckin' lunch lady
Round in the middle, she built crazy
I play the fiddle and she wants to date me
Only been one night and she wants a baby
I'm ignorant, don't let my pop songs fool you
I got the motherfuckers stuck like some voodoo
I got these motherfuckers watching like Hulu
(That's right! Yeah, yeah, that's right!)
It's been a minute, let me talk my shit, okay
She gave the digits, she'll be over in a bit, okay
I'm smooth with it, everything I make hit like (huhhh)
New bag, who this? Okay (huhhh)
Wrist, wrist, wrist, wrist, wrist (huhhh)
Couple thousand in a whip, okay (huhhh)
You don't know me, not one bit
And I don't trust you, not one bit
I really get it how I live, okay
Blow up like explosives, I'm not boastin'
I'm just chillin' coastin'
Homie brought the potion
Now I'm lit got me feelin' toasted
Money to the ceiling 'bout to dive in
Billy in my moment
Focusing on my shit, gotta hone it
Billy gotta make another stack by the morning
A lot, a lot, brand-new whip, it cost a lot
My girl necklace, yeah, I bought it
Self-employed, I'm my own boss
Why you so sweet like applesauce?
You beef with me, you take a loss
I'm making plays like Randy Moss
Buy anything, don't check the cost
By any means, all your shit flop
My energy can not be stopped
I make a bag each time I drop
You own my songs, I might adopt
You were a fan and then you swapped
I'm really glad I finally popped
A million songs, I'm fully stocked
I'm on a roll, I can't be topped (yeah)
Go ahead, run that back
You done woke them up
No more sleeping
I know, they ain't ready for this one
(Billy on the track)
I think it's 'bout time they tuned in
Why don't you go and tell 'em something
I am a maniac
Call my bluff
My bitch told me she likes it rough
I'm a dog, Clifford like 'ruff'
She said, "Billy, you play too much"
Well, I play too much
I'm the only person I trust
Another one bites the dust
Another one bites the dust
She's thick as a motherfuckin' lunch lady
Round in the middle, she built crazy
I play the fiddle and she wants to date me
Only been one night and she wants a baby
I'm ignorant, don't let my pop songs fool you
I got the motherfuckers stuck like some voodoo
I got these motherfuckers watching like Hulu
(That's right! Yeah, yeah, that's right!)
It's been a minute, let me talk my shit, okay
She gave the digits, she'll be over in a bit, okay
I'm smooth with it, everything I make hit like (huhhh)
New bag, who this? Okay (huhhh)
Wrist, wrist, wrist, wrist, wrist (huhhh)
Couple thousand in a whip, okay (huhhh)
You don't know me, not one bit
And I don't trust you, not one bit
I really get it how I live, okay
Blow up like explosives, I'm not boastin'
I'm just chillin' coastin'
Homie brought the potion
Now I'm lit got me feelin' toasted
Money to the ceiling 'bout to dive in
Billy in my moment
Focusing on my shit, gotta hone it
Billy gotta make another stack by the morning
A lot, a lot, brand-new whip, it cost a lot
My girl necklace, yeah, I bought it
Self-employed, I'm my own boss
Why you so sweet like applesauce?
You beef with me, you take a loss
I'm making plays like Randy Moss
Buy anything, don't check the cost
By any means, all your shit flop
My energy can not be stopped
I make a bag each time I drop
You own my songs, I might adopt
You were a fan and then you swapped
I'm really glad I finally popped
A million songs, I'm fully stocked
I'm on a roll, I can't be topped (yeah)
Go ahead, run that back
You done woke them up
No more sleeping
Credits
Writer(s): Andrew Ryan Leblanc, William R Marchiafava
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
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