Bubbaloo
This slow speed is proper
I don't sip no lean, this vodka
Somebody knocking
We ain't there but it still don't mean it's not us
She a lil snack with an appetite but that don't mean the whole meal is tapas
I passed on a trophy wife but that don't mean I aint keen for the SAMAs, dang
Pardon my twang but I flipped like darlin' I came
I gotta work till yall need a personal guide to come in my bank
Type of funny money I could laugh with
Passionate, no half-wit
Sunny come and meet your past quick
Bagless? As if
Imagine that, I front like this raps in past tense
Soon as I'm back in action with a pact to blast em on some back-to-back shit
Oh I'm cappin?
Ask them niggas what happened, go on
Aint no genie in a lantern, I never made a wish lil bitch I made an anthem, so long
Uh, been in the mood for a slow song
Muh fuckers want hype, I aint the type, but I might put a dick in her colon
When shit get hot, it might be the solar, or it might be the way that she pole dance
Lil bitch so bad she might spit back at a cobra, oh lord
Really ain't shit about cash no more
Been in minimal bags for so long,
You can get em all back, I'm used to this
You feel this? Cool
That is proof that it's truth when its blues
If its stupidity I get too finicky
I feel dudes energy
I hear two melodies
Why, where, who, nigga please
Fuck a bar, this is absolute felonies
That's a true get-up steeze
Aye, you aint fucking with me, I'll fuck you. Get hammered down, I'm touch proof
Get passed around my fucking group, blowing backs out for a buck or two
Like a cash cow with none to loose, you'll be ass out if I cut the roof
Passed out like its Huxtable, crack house like its comfortable
Pacquiao when I punch a tooth, cap yall it aint much to do
Do I have yall with a hunch that soon I might blast off and get above the moon
Hold me down I got love for you, but nigga Show Me Out if I'm up at two
Come and hug a boo, really I'm lovable
Sweet inside like bubbaloos
I don't sip no lean, this vodka
Somebody knocking
We ain't there but it still don't mean it's not us
She a lil snack with an appetite but that don't mean the whole meal is tapas
I passed on a trophy wife but that don't mean I aint keen for the SAMAs, dang
Pardon my twang but I flipped like darlin' I came
I gotta work till yall need a personal guide to come in my bank
Type of funny money I could laugh with
Passionate, no half-wit
Sunny come and meet your past quick
Bagless? As if
Imagine that, I front like this raps in past tense
Soon as I'm back in action with a pact to blast em on some back-to-back shit
Oh I'm cappin?
Ask them niggas what happened, go on
Aint no genie in a lantern, I never made a wish lil bitch I made an anthem, so long
Uh, been in the mood for a slow song
Muh fuckers want hype, I aint the type, but I might put a dick in her colon
When shit get hot, it might be the solar, or it might be the way that she pole dance
Lil bitch so bad she might spit back at a cobra, oh lord
Really ain't shit about cash no more
Been in minimal bags for so long,
You can get em all back, I'm used to this
You feel this? Cool
That is proof that it's truth when its blues
If its stupidity I get too finicky
I feel dudes energy
I hear two melodies
Why, where, who, nigga please
Fuck a bar, this is absolute felonies
That's a true get-up steeze
Aye, you aint fucking with me, I'll fuck you. Get hammered down, I'm touch proof
Get passed around my fucking group, blowing backs out for a buck or two
Like a cash cow with none to loose, you'll be ass out if I cut the roof
Passed out like its Huxtable, crack house like its comfortable
Pacquiao when I punch a tooth, cap yall it aint much to do
Do I have yall with a hunch that soon I might blast off and get above the moon
Hold me down I got love for you, but nigga Show Me Out if I'm up at two
Come and hug a boo, really I'm lovable
Sweet inside like bubbaloos
Credits
Writer(s): Mvula Dyantyi
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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