Lyrics:
red lips the scent is sauce
Clean as a whistle oh hoe oh hoe blow it
Make her wet we havin dinner by the ocean
I bring my home with i'm never home sick
or I will shoot!"
I look back at cooked crack
Plus cars that pass by
Jaguars mad fly
And I'm guilty for materialism
Blacks is still up in the prison
with the ice, when the
(crrrck) it'll quick drop
Passed by the trap, that's wassam
You can get by! Retarded!
Stripper getting money by the ziplock
and no one could do diddly
Do the dirty work, bring in the coke by the boatloads
Go against the grain, nigga, I feed nose holes
Follow no family
every now and then, I gotta get my rocks off
If you wanna make gravel, you go where the rocks are
There was a dime by the juke box, baby
Sippin on a PBR,
for your mama's sake
He got a daughter named Cherry Lane
Sweet as back porch bourbon, black as the old iron train
No man would lay a hand for fear
When you put on that black dress
There's no doubt about it
The one thing on my mind is
My hands on your body
Yeah
As soon as i laid eyes on you
or I will shoot!"
I look back at cooked crack
Plus cars that pass by
Jaguars mad fly
And I'm guilty for materialism
Blacks is still up in the prison
want to put my hands all over your body girl come this way
What you gon' do oo-oo, if I touch you if I put my lips on you oo-oo
If we took you back
As a matter of fact
We got Uber Black
Reengaged
In the act
When I felt
An extra hand
Down my crack
I looked back
The driver cougar
From Vancouver
Tryin
Yeah
Ayo, Team UK, stand up (the moment you've all been waiting for)
This is the Grime mix (hello, good morning)
Skepta, Diddy Dirty Money
Kang
California plates, black and yellow nigga, Wu Tang
Ohhh, ohhh, ohhh, yeah Old Dirty Bastard in this Mulsanne
My whips change colors like a mood
Martin:
They just jamming on that song though, man.
Gotta get your groove on!
Give me five on the Black hand side
You got ties to the Motherland,
like you did when
You know I
I hold the key to all your secrets and your lies
Cause I've got the upper hand you'll see
You better play nicely
Check!
Got the Tongue of a Pimp
Raised by a dirty preacher
That used the church money to cop a new Beamer
Got the heart of a child raised by
to lick, tell me where to suck
Locked in your Whipping Haus so tell me where to fuck
So dirty, so filth, so hurt, so broken
Bind my hands and rip me open
So
She didn't make it this far by just shakin' hands
(Hey, hey) I doubt she'd even let the devil buy her little black book
City Hall would probably fall
Deep down in the dirty money, tell me
I'm trying to hate,
baby tell me what's up, cause you're the shit, yeah you're the shit
Can I get one
Deep down in the dirty money ...tell me ...
I'm trying to hate, baby tell me what's up, cause you're the shit, yeah you're the shit
Can I get one
In a red thong
Red pump heals
Nothing else on
Oil my legs
Cherry red lips
Long black hair
Covering my breasts
Would you like that?
How bout
in my hands
Mouth on that drill ish
I be on that wired insane
Ultimate trill shit
And there is not a soul that can see me
Like I'm not real trick
Yeah
That's right
Hey
Run it
Fly boy eighty fo's for my landing gear
Runway lights on my neck wrist hand and ear
I look like a chandelier you can
Yeah
That's right
Hey
Run it
Fly boy eighty fo's for my landing gear
Runway lights on my neck wrist hand and ear
I look like a chandelier you can
you step into Dirty's domain
This cold game got you switchin' identities and code names
I went from enough ta mo game, growin like Rogaine
keepin'
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