Tana - Damon Sharpe lyrics

Steven Lewis

[Tana - Damon Sharpe lyrics]

Is it recording? Alright, let's get it
Ayy, yeah (Uh)
Ayy, yeah (Ayy, CGM, where you at?)
Ayy, yeah ayy, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Ayy, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Ayy, yeah, yeah, brrr

She said hey to me
I thought she was Damon Sharpe
Mona Lisa, she a painted work of art
Gas so high, I think I could touch the stars
And my pockets fat, yeah
My pockets they all large (Woah, yeah)

Please don't hit my phone
You gon' get ignored
Me, Dami and Shuni, we gon' up the score
I got hella girls that seem a galorе
And my pockets fat
She grabbing on my Ksubi's
Asking me likе "What is that?"
I got way too much to lose
If I need to call my slatt
I'm a young stunna boy
They say I look like my dad (Woah)

I'm paranoid
I'm always watching for that back door
You ain't finna bust it, nigga
What you got that strap for?
Pop a nigga like a zit
This 19 open up your pores
III'm with Tana in Chicago on the top floor
Private location (Overnight sensation)
Shuni light the J' and then
We put it in rotation
Baddie tryna pull up on me
Text her the location
Niggas steady in my phone
They begging for the placement

Hating on my Twitter
They ain't know that's motivation
Two girls in my crib and they
Ain't know they got relation
Woke up in the party, we gon' shoot it up
Shoutout to lil' Lawsy, I'm so booted up
So much True Religion, I stay truey'd up
Sorry baby
I ain't mean to make a fool of ya

She said hey to me
I thought she was Damon Sharpe
Mona Lisa, she a painted work of art
Gas so high, I think I could touch the stars
And my pockets fat, yeah
My pockets they all large (Woah, yeah)

(Uh) Hey, Santana, we in the 'raq
You riding with us? Just know we strapped
I gotta make sure you get back
A nigga move wrong, just know it's that (Uh)
Look, don't listen to shit on the 'net
I hit from the back, cornrows on the cat
I was 16, I running the bag
We coming for niggas, we all on they necks
If you wanna talk, don't go through @'s
Whoever die next, we got get back
I got a mil', so I could sit back
You ain't a gangster, lil' boy get back
We sell weed then we bought crack
They bought crack and we got racks
My opps get sick I'm rich off that
Go through that bitch and pass out the pack
You don't know the half, I'm in it to win
I stay with KA$H, yeah that's my twin
I bought a Benz for my new friend
I bought a clip for my new gym
He boutta say that, "This my first mil'"
Bitch, you never made that
I'm loving the crowd, I might jump in
I'm yelling, "Where my rage at?"
I love grown bitches
They be asking what my age at
10k for a show
I might not come if I get played with
I leave with who I came with
I shoot when I see strange shit
They say I'm weird 'cause I hate lame shit
And I'm never with the same bitch

She said hey to me
I thought she was Damon Sharpe
Mona Lisa, she a painted work of art
Gas so high, I think I could touch the stars
And my pockets fat, yeah
My pockets they all large (Woah, yeah)

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