Poker (feat. Lil Heat, The Rose City Artist)
Bobby Blaake
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I want a Japanese bitch from Osaka Bend her over while she make me a bento box These niggas call me El Chapo Cause I’m breaking bread while these dumb niggas watch (yeah) Pray to god my dad win a lotto So I can leave, with no stress on my back Throw that nigga in a spiral Lil Uzi vert, silly watch and my louboutins hurt Red bottoms and they good with a purse My flow is to frosty you niggas get burnt Turn up the stove I got hi-tech alert You don’t want the smoke I’ll f*ck you up first Raised by my father I beat you in that Came from the dirt who you know can do that told that nigga please don’t pull out the strap You can come catch all these hands in the trap Spin the bottle now your bitch up for grabs I could steal her with this one likkle Chance Play your cards, royal flush in my hands What you got, I’m just folding my hand If that ain’t dirty money, where you get it then Pick your price just don’t pay me in tens These bands are heavy I have to full send Hundos fit better with these rubber bands (yeah) Slime green shoes cover my toes (slime) Got 200 on my dashboard (slat) Bitch, you know I won’t crash though (slat, slat) Gucci belt holding up my cash flow (yeah it’s over) If we shoot, aim for his fro-ooh (woo) When I hit bend, her down to her toes You know, you know (you know, you know) Blood we don’t mess with no c’s at the end of the day even blue start wit b (yeah) You know, when we pull up to the party, smelling like gas and it’s strong After smoking then I’m gone Rosé for Rose (woo) I’m sippin’ it, while Im sitting on the throne I want a Japanese bitch from Osaka Bend her over while she make me a bento box These niggas call me El Chapo Cause I’m breaking bread while these dumb niggas watch Pray to god my dad win a lotto So I can leave, with no stress on my back Throw that nigga in a spiral Lil Uzi vert, silly watch and my louboutins hurt Wooooo Woooo run nigga I’m gon get you, Big chain on my neck I’m not Christian, Big Chain on my neck I’m not Christian, When I holla she gon get it, Big chain on my neck I’m not Christian, Woo and we got the room filled up, And there’s more than 50 of us, Woo woo 5 star on my hip, 5 star on my hip, Spent 900 put my finger on the trigger, And there’s more than 50 of us, Run nigga bout to get you Big chain on my neck I’m not Christian I want a Japanese bitch from Osaka Bend her over while she make me a bento box These niggas call me El Chapo Cause I’m breaking bread while these dumb niggas watch (yeah) Pray to god my dad win a lotto So I can leave, with no stress on my back Throw that nigga in a spiral Lil Uzi vert, silly watch and my louboutins hurt
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Written by: Ateeq Shahid, Quincy Elliot, Robert Blake
Lyrics © DistroKid
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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"Poker (feat. Lil Heat, The Rose City Artist) Lyrics." Lyrics.com. STANDS4 LLC, 2024. Web. 29 Apr. 2024. <https://www.lyrics.com/lyric-lf/5522629/Bobby+Blaake/Poker+%28feat.+Lil+Heat%2C+The+Rose+City+Artist%29>.
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