Juwanna Mann
I feel like Wanna Man, the way I shoot this bitch straight from the three
She said she loyal to the gang, but she a slut, that's all for me
Cooked that shit straight up like Steve, shit was gas like Brawn and Heat
I turned the play into a P, I swear to God, who heart is me
Did trap and nuke it, bond no friends, hit a salad, come to threes
She steady leechin, wanna pigs, just drop the bomb, can't cop from me
Off the pep, might blow a bitch, niggas dissin, never me
Yeah, bitch, she fuckin' off her lane, just drop the song, she wanna rain
Goin' hard just for my time, he copped a Deuce, he ran his fleet
Swear he was hard, but copped the plate, y'all niggas bitches joke to me
Ain't got lil' money, strokin' it, she wanna take, she holdin' it
Ain't J-E, Swish, ain't fold to me, ain't Cody, Stabby, close to me
Ain't Freddy, Trappy, bro, the pity, ain't that shit crazy, what I said
I turned the house into a key, them niggas tope, but never rich
Ain't got lil' cash, but she in pain, she in the space, but texting me
I feel like Wanna Man, the way I shoot this bitch straight from the thrift
She said she loyal to the gang, but she a slut, that's all for me
Cooked that shit straight up like Steve, shit was gas like Bron and Heat
I tried to play it to a P, I swear to God, who odds me
She said she loyal to the gang, but she a slut, that's all for me
Cooked that shit straight up like Steve, shit was gas like Brawn and Heat
I turned the play into a P, I swear to God, who heart is me
Did trap and nuke it, bond no friends, hit a salad, come to threes
She steady leechin, wanna pigs, just drop the bomb, can't cop from me
Off the pep, might blow a bitch, niggas dissin, never me
Yeah, bitch, she fuckin' off her lane, just drop the song, she wanna rain
Goin' hard just for my time, he copped a Deuce, he ran his fleet
Swear he was hard, but copped the plate, y'all niggas bitches joke to me
Ain't got lil' money, strokin' it, she wanna take, she holdin' it
Ain't J-E, Swish, ain't fold to me, ain't Cody, Stabby, close to me
Ain't Freddy, Trappy, bro, the pity, ain't that shit crazy, what I said
I turned the house into a key, them niggas tope, but never rich
Ain't got lil' cash, but she in pain, she in the space, but texting me
I feel like Wanna Man, the way I shoot this bitch straight from the thrift
She said she loyal to the gang, but she a slut, that's all for me
Cooked that shit straight up like Steve, shit was gas like Bron and Heat
I tried to play it to a P, I swear to God, who odds me
Credits
Writer(s): Derek Jones
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
Other Album Tracks
© 2024 All rights reserved. Rockol.com S.r.l. Website image policy
Rockol
- Rockol only uses images and photos made available for promotional purposes (“for press use”) by record companies, artist managements and p.r. agencies.
- Said images are used to exert a right to report and a finality of the criticism, in a degraded mode compliant to copyright laws, and exclusively inclosed in our own informative content.
- Only non-exclusive images addressed to newspaper use and, in general, copyright-free are accepted.
- Live photos are published when licensed by photographers whose copyright is quoted.
- Rockol is available to pay the right holder a fair fee should a published image’s author be unknown at the time of publishing.
Feedback
Please immediately report the presence of images possibly not compliant with the above cases so as to quickly verify an improper use: where confirmed, we would immediately proceed to their removal.