Tunevert

I want a chain, bet I'm stealin' it
The more that you call, I ain't feelin' it
I wanna, ayy, ayy (Taurus)
I gave a stripper the best of me
Ayy, ayy
I gave a stripper the best of me
I gave a good hoe the less of me
Ayy, ayy, yeah, ayy

I gave a stripper the best of me
I gave a good ho what's left of me
She wish she had a lean recipe
Crash out in SoHo, I wake up in Beverly
I want a chain, bet I'm stealin' it
The more that you call me, the more I ain't feelin' it
I got a problem remembering
Back on them bars like I'm waitin' for sentencing

SVR Range at the residence
Woke up the neighbors, they think I be sellin' shit
And my bitch just found me a better bitch
If her watch all V's, she a veteran
Trackhawk cost two cheap foreigns
Free slime, I'ma still drink for 'em (Taurus)
I'm paid, but this shit gettin' boring
My son ain't even like his new Rick Owens
Shit, look, ayy

Hunnid thousand time teller, and it's all rose
She'll show it, she'll sell it, and I'm all for it
Just pray my brothers never get jealous, 'cause nigga, what's mine is yours
She too pretty to be that messy, bitch, I ain't got time for it
She too pretty to be that-, uh, bitch, I ain't got time for it
Trackhawk, stomp the gas, she got whiplash
Bust a Presi, bet it make her old nigga mad
Trackhawk, stomp the gas, she got whiplash
Bust a Presi, bet it make her old nigga mad
I boss up a city girl, call me Tunevert

Haha, ayy, ayy
I boss up a city girl, call me Tune Vert
Pay the refs, and place a bet, that's how the game work



Credits
Writer(s): Lc Camel Jr.
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com

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