Unholy

He like it, like it, yeah
He like it, like it, yeah

A lucky, lucky girl
She got married to a boy like you
She'd kick you out if she ever, ever knew
'Bout all the-, you tell me that you do

Hmm, dirty, dirty boy
You know everyone is talkin' on the scene
I hear them whisperin' 'bout the places that you've been
And how you don't know how to keep your business clean

Mummy don't know daddy's getting hot
At the body shop doin' somethin' unholy
He's sat back while she's droppin' it
She be poppin' it, yeah, she put it down slowly

Oh-e-oh-e-oh, he left his kids at
Oh-e-oh-e-home so he can get that
Mummy don't know daddy's getting hot
At the body shop doin' somethin' unholy

Mm, daddy, daddy, if you want it, drop the addy
Give me love, give me Fendi, my Balenciaga daddy
You gon' need to bag it up 'cause I'm spendin' on Rodeo
You can watch me back it up, I'll be gone in the a.m.

He get me Prada, get me Miu Miu like Rihanna
He always call me 'cause I never cause no drama
And when you want it, baby, I know I got you covered
And when you need it, baby, just jump under the covers

Mummy don't know daddy's getting hot
At the body shop doin' somethin' unholy
He's sat back while she's droppin' it
She be poppin' it, yeah, she put it down slowly

Oh-e-oh-e-oh, he left his kids at
Oh-e-oh-e-home so he can get that
Mummy don't know daddy's getting hot
At the body shop doin' somethin' unholy

Hmm-mm, mm-mm
Oh, ayy, doin' somethin' unholy
Hmm, ayy-ayy, oh-uh, ay



Credits
Writer(s): Henry Russell Walter, James John Napier, Samuel Frederick Smith, Kim Petras, Ilya Salmanzadeh, Blake Slatkin, Omer Fedi
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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