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Search results for 'cuban spinach'
Yee yee! We've found 20 lyrics and 46 artists matching cuban spinach.
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learning as I keep the Cuban burning I'm the new menace white name call me Dennis Check the premise boss shit no floss, no dentist Skipping class picking up
Yeah Mm-hmm, yeah, oh-oh-oh Yeah (mmm), yeah Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (Based 1 got them bands, ho) Walk in, iced out, whole team got on Cuban
the pot Wrapped up in gold, The cuban a knot Takin' these tolls, Now I got a lot Tryna go toe to toe, I bet you cannot Totin' a pole and I bet it go pop
now we rocking Cuban chains, I feel just like I’m tony, Cruising touring in ya city, now them bitches know me, Just a year ago they wasn’t even
still cripping It a a bitch some shit If uncle Reese Was still living R.I.P Lets Go Blowing spinach Making Pape by the minute Man these lame niggas Finish
this Everything that I be shootin Never moves after I shoot it Your chain be lookin Cuban But your life be lookin stupid So is it me who's really losin?
bustin plays Work her ass off Went and got a cuban now her Neck look like it's Utah ahh what you sayin I'm the hustler with the million dollar plan
Das blow back I ain't bleeding Use to post on cullen and almeda Let me wash the money No cleaners Cuban links Gleaming You a real hoe cnd dis real
Popeye wit a plate a spinach After grace was given Dennis Coles when his face is hidden Ya taste in women is the taste of chitlen Ni*** my taste is
spinach And you cap like a fitted You gon' copy the swag and you can't even fit it We pull up in a civic, not no muhfuckin' chevy But the whip fit too many,
twenty minutes My right arm swole I feel like Popeye off a can of spinach It's probably 'cause I got on two Presis like I want attention You know they
spinach And you cap like a fitted You gon' copy the swag and you can't even fit it We pull up in a civic, not no muhfuckin' chevy But the whip fit too many,
get the b*tch that I want 10/10 I'm living large 10/10 I ain't going out sad 10/10 I ain't going out sad no Picture life Picasso Cubans on me Castro I
the door She trynna link after seeing the Cuban Big brain 5 head know I ain't stupid Take her to dinner we eating at Ruth Chris She really love me she got
get what You get what you want, You get what you want You get what, You get what you want Yeah, it's all for me Chasing lettuce need the spinach, need
all my spinach Pushing my wit to the length of the limit Not caught in the cross of who done or who did it And as of late yeah the pays been weak Takes
the line, but trying to win the quarter See the days getting shorter, but the figs are blooming Seven on Italian braids, but I want the Cuban I'm with
and juice, Mugen Samurai Champloo Said you move, I got the bands Smokin cubans, Doin my dan rue Fuck a link, I don’t wear no gold, Cuz that shit make me
concerned You make a mothafucka really do learn Popeye nigga and go home and eat spinach Get back on the block I really can't finish I'm ready to rap till
on a Cuban and my lightskin, brownskin or cute tings Man I love to go west spend figures then I go home, eat bariis and hilib African girl arch back, I wan'
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