Lyrics:
are not so thick,
All the screaming and torture stops
If we wait for old Saint Nick!
So string up the lights and light up the tree
We're damned for all
Oh you’re always coming round my ends
I know you wanna be a little more than friends
For sure
You don’t want no strings
Why don’t we get together
diamond rings,
She pulls my man around by her apron strings.
And if it wasn't for powder and her store-bought hair,
Oh, that man of mine wouldn't go
around
By her apron strings
Wasn't for powder
And his store-bought hair
The man I love
Wouldn't go nowhere, nowhere
I got the St. Louis blues
Just
around
By her apron strings
Wasn't for powder
And his store-bought hair
The man I love
Wouldn't go nowhere, nowhere
I got the St. Louis blues
Just
around
By her apron strings
Wasn't for powder
And his store-bought hair
The man I love
Wouldn't go nowhere, nowhere
I got the St. Louis blues
Just
you believe
That a mistletoe is right by me
I probably accept a kiss before I leave
Then thankfully see the gift with my name by the string
Then pick
Louis V,
Spent four hundred on a flawless white tee
Only travel tax holiday, tax free
'Cause I'm sick of the tax fees
Ski, ski, ski, ski, ski, ski,
Ski,
around
By her apron strings
She wants for powder
And for store bought hair
The man she loves, he wouldn't go nowhere
St. Louis woman
With her
on in the booth I came to save the day
I wake up every morning treat it like a holiday
And I ain't really ever cared for what they gotta say
I ain't
and D.C., St. Louis, Miami
So you a killer, how many people did you kill?
You a dealer, how many drugs did you deal-a?
For'realla, used to sell crack
me what you all about
Fingers in your mouth, open up your blouse
Pull your G-string down South, aoowww
Threw that back out, in the parking lot
By
me what you all about
Fingers in your mouth, open up your blouse
Pull your G-string down South, aoowww
Threw that back out, in the parking lot
By
I'd like to start by saying sorry
(Ma binu what did I do)
Pulled up on lenox for my Ari
(O ti to, she had to go)
We had a vibe and it was boomin
diamond rings,
She pulls my man around by her apron strings.
And if it wasn't for powder and her store-bought hair,
Oh, that man of mine wouldn't go
they gotta pay
And my return is like Christ, declare the holiday
Back in the game now, copped me some weed now
My people bout to eat now, shit's
Said he want me for Christmas
Just a bow with no wrap
So I sent him my wishlist
Grabbed my gifts and then dash
Said he want be for Christmas
So I got
in St. Louis
My nigga Chingy disturbing tha peace
Luda, Luda going hard on you hos
Yeah, bitch, bring four of ya friends
Meet me at the Holiday Inn
me what you all about
Fingers in your mouth, open up your blouse
Pull your G-string down South, aoowww
Threw that back out, in the parking lot
By
she spilt a drink on my cream wallows
Reach the gate, hungry just ate
Riffin, she got to be to work by eight
This must mean she ain't tryin
Fingers in your mouth, open up your blouse
Pull your G-string down South, aoowww
Threw that back out, in the parking lot
By a Cherokee and a green drop-top
birthday
Irrelevant holiday affair
Got one of those three-leg foldin' chairs
I am what you call prepared, for the campout
Evenin' brings
rockin' a mullet
I'm stylin' on niggas, Dior for the bucket
I'm shoppin' in Denver, I feel like a Nugget
I'm pullin' they strings, I treat bitches like
cap, i was send into jail for selling this wraps
Saturday night when i pull up, i feel like i'm tap by cats
I think i'ma fuckin' die on this bro
In my
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