BlueBucksClan, 1TakeJay - Poppin’ It lyrics
[BlueBucksClan, 1TakeJay - Poppin’ It lyrics]
Yeah, fuckin' up her jaws like some dental
(Low the Great)
Ditchin' school after ten, I'm on Central
Bitch blowin' up my phone like
"I miss you"
She let me beat the pussy up, instrumental
(Ron-Ron do that shit)
Hoppin' out Rolls truck, ain't no rental
Two bitches, I'm like Malcolm in the Middle
They keep askin' if I like 'em
Just a little lame niggas ain't with us
We ain't with 'em
Ayy, money ain't the issue
I wipe my ass with it like it's tissue
Christian Louboutins got me bleedin'
Like a menstrual your chain gold-plated
Mines more like Skittles
Bitch, you better feel appreciated
If I hit you
Love it when I hit her from the back
She got dimples
In the White House like Obama, presidential
Top kinda trash, but it's cool
She got potential
Whoopin' AT&T, I'm a phone buster
Yeah, it's on us, fuck the truck
We ain't Bone Crusher
Keep designers on my feet
Can't no Foams touch 'em
Metro got me on my ass
This some strong Gusher
I be lyin' to these bitches
Like I don't got it i ain't died
But I let her suck the soul out it
Bought a strap 'cause this
Money bring more problems
No pause, but a nigga gettin' more commas
All my real homies
Met 'em in the Low Bottoms
Ran it up in Miami like I'm Jeff Thomas
All the smoke at the stu', it's a big sauna
Niggas act just like hoes, call 'em Big Mama
Fuck a square bitch, I go
Stupid, I don't care, bitch
Walkin' through the mud, I'ma
Buy another pair, bitch
Too exclusive, I pulled up in a McLaren
I'm a shootin' star
Watch this bitch start starin'
I got three bitches with me, nigga
But I'm sharin' yeah, she call me daddy
But a nigga ain't a parent
Palm Angels 'fit, bitch
Don't ask me what I'm wearin'
I got fifty bitches
I ain't worried 'bout no marriage
Bugs Bunny in my ears, I got carats
Don't ask
Bitch you can't afford what I'm wearin'
I don't care, but my bitch named Karen
Pillow talkin', nigga
You remind me of a parrot
Nigga shoppin' downtown, I can't wear it
Dior store, gon' crazy, ain't no clearance
It's gon' cost a couple
Bands for my appearance
Tesla ran out of juice, I'm embarrassed
No soda, I got niggas sittin' in the can
I wear Off Whites like a
Nigga tryna get a tan
Richie Rich, I got hundreds, Benjamins
Nigga, I'm the one
But a nigga ain't a minute man
Dog a bitch, but to her mama
I'm a gentleman
Weak bitches at my house, we get rid of them
Rolls-Royce, Lamborghini, yeah
I sit in there all beige Louis boots
These ain't Timberland
(Low the Great)
Ditchin' school after ten, I'm on Central
Bitch blowin' up my phone like
"I miss you"
She let me beat the pussy up, instrumental
(Ron-Ron do that shit)
Hoppin' out Rolls truck, ain't no rental
Two bitches, I'm like Malcolm in the Middle
They keep askin' if I like 'em
Just a little lame niggas ain't with us
We ain't with 'em
Ayy, money ain't the issue
I wipe my ass with it like it's tissue
Christian Louboutins got me bleedin'
Like a menstrual your chain gold-plated
Mines more like Skittles
Bitch, you better feel appreciated
If I hit you
Love it when I hit her from the back
She got dimples
In the White House like Obama, presidential
Top kinda trash, but it's cool
She got potential
Whoopin' AT&T, I'm a phone buster
Yeah, it's on us, fuck the truck
We ain't Bone Crusher
Keep designers on my feet
Can't no Foams touch 'em
Metro got me on my ass
This some strong Gusher
I be lyin' to these bitches
Like I don't got it i ain't died
But I let her suck the soul out it
Bought a strap 'cause this
Money bring more problems
No pause, but a nigga gettin' more commas
All my real homies
Met 'em in the Low Bottoms
Ran it up in Miami like I'm Jeff Thomas
All the smoke at the stu', it's a big sauna
Niggas act just like hoes, call 'em Big Mama
Fuck a square bitch, I go
Stupid, I don't care, bitch
Walkin' through the mud, I'ma
Buy another pair, bitch
Too exclusive, I pulled up in a McLaren
I'm a shootin' star
Watch this bitch start starin'
I got three bitches with me, nigga
But I'm sharin' yeah, she call me daddy
But a nigga ain't a parent
Palm Angels 'fit, bitch
Don't ask me what I'm wearin'
I got fifty bitches
I ain't worried 'bout no marriage
Bugs Bunny in my ears, I got carats
Don't ask
Bitch you can't afford what I'm wearin'
I don't care, but my bitch named Karen
Pillow talkin', nigga
You remind me of a parrot
Nigga shoppin' downtown, I can't wear it
Dior store, gon' crazy, ain't no clearance
It's gon' cost a couple
Bands for my appearance
Tesla ran out of juice, I'm embarrassed
No soda, I got niggas sittin' in the can
I wear Off Whites like a
Nigga tryna get a tan
Richie Rich, I got hundreds, Benjamins
Nigga, I'm the one
But a nigga ain't a minute man
Dog a bitch, but to her mama
I'm a gentleman
Weak bitches at my house, we get rid of them
Rolls-Royce, Lamborghini, yeah
I sit in there all beige Louis boots
These ain't Timberland