chilling at auntie house with arlo

GucciJay

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GucciJay


2:48

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I, I, I love you
When my girl, I say I, I, I love you
But just don't say it baby
You don't gotta call, I'll just hit your line

Every time you slide through, I just gotta break your spine
F*ck all these other hoes, can I really make you mine
She like to eat the dick up, she don't like to dine and whine
I done hit this nigga bitch on camera, why he really cryin'

Get the private jet for the weekend, baby, where we flyin'
You say you know the gang, lil' nigga, why your ass lyin'
Spend back, get up on the opps, all them niggas dyin
Relyin' on a broke bitch, that's some shit you can't do

Spend on a black, lil' nigga, what get you
All his friends dead, lil' nigga, need a tissue
How you in the field, you don't even got your pistol
Bullets out the AR, sound like some missiles

If the feds lackin' love, baby, just whistle
Stop tryna play on the ground, we official
If I pass your ass the ball, why you let it dribble
Got that lil' stack in your pocket, my shit tripple

He was talkin' on the snap, now his ass cripple
Then we got some get back, put that nigga in the spittle
Two freaky hoes in the bed, I'm just in the middle
How many times that we hit it head like a fuckin' riddle

Tryna f*ck all the grown hoes, remember bein' little
She got that fat ass in them jeans, try to make it jiggle
You ain't even cook this shit right, you gotta let it sizzle
Got my mind on this money shit, I don't need a bitch

Find a striker lookin' for the opps, don't let me crash the whip
I don't even want you, lil' hoe, I just wanna hit
Don't got a problem with you, nigga, why you in the mix
He was talkin' shit up on the gram, now we got him zipped

Steppin' out in the mirrors, that's a thousand dollar fit
Niggas sick as hell on the snap, we done took his kit
I done fucked it round and hit his baby mama in my whip
Hit this nigga hard, then I pass it to the bros

Made 20 on my mo', got his head off the scuff
You can't have better things, why you trippin' by the hoe
Heard them niggas out here snackin', better clothes that bagged up
Gettin' money every day, nigga, that's a fact, though

You said that's your wife, why you fuckin' on the fat hoe
You said you got some money on my head, why you capped up
Tryna put me like a goofy nigga, get you smacked, hoe
For mines, I'll lay one of yours

Spendin' racks up on this bitch, now your ass poor
Don't try to rob me, keep the Glock up in my drawer
Beat this bitch back down, now her ass sore
Think your ass a fighter, we done dropped you on the floor

Remember them days we was stealin' out the store
How many times that we hit a hit, about four
Niggas do some shit, tell my brother I want war
Now she kissin' on that goofy bitch, she a whore

She got 20 bodies, I don't want her anymore
You can't be in the party, we just left you at the door
Got the bottle in my hand, now I'm finna pour
Yeah, told your bitch to shake her hips to this

She was talkin' shit up on the gang, then we flipped the whip
Why you cuffin' on that goofy bitch, she done ate the dick
Man, it's hot as hell, where the f*ck is my AC, bitch

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Written by: GucciJay GucciJay

Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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    "chilling at auntie house with arlo Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 2 May 2024. <https://www.lyrics.com/lyric-lf/13037747/GucciJay/chilling+at+auntie+house+with+arlo>.

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    Which of these lyrics is NOT by The Smiths, but by Morrissey?
    A Yes, we may be hidden by rags, but we've something they'll never have
    B Send at least one thoughtful letter, my heart goes out to you
    C Why pamper life's complexity, when the leather runs smooth on the passenger seat?
    D In the days when you were hopelessly poor, I just liked you more

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