BoofPaxkMooky, Calii Breezze - Ta Da lyrics
[BoofPaxkMooky, Calii Breezze - Ta Da lyrics]
Chill, you can't even come to the crib
I was outside in Atlanta
So she don't even know where I live
Ho, where is your manners?
She eat the dick like a dinner
Don't pop a Xan', hop in the sprinter
Wait, I was the one in the Balenciagas
You talking down? Then I hit up my partner
Dread head, really look like a Rasta
He got the glick but he not a shotta
I got the gas bag, like my father
Say he get money, uh, nada
I make that boy disappear, ta da
Down bad, had to stay with my mother
Yeah, I was down bad under covers
And don't try to touch (No)
The choppa, it buss yeah the choppa buss you
I'm number one and he two
Aye, tell me to do it
Uh, I can't even do it
Know my bitch thicker than you
Uh, he can't even prove it i got that juice
Uh, he can't even do it
Man, I'm smoking this boof
Chill, you can't even come to the crib
I was outside in Atlanta
So she don't even know where I live
Ho, where is your manners?
She eat the dick like a dinner
Don't pop a Xan', hop in the sprinter
Wait, I was the one in the Balenciagas
You talking down? Then I hit up my partner
Dread head, really look like a Rasta
He got the glick but he not a shotta
I got the gas bag, like my father
Say he get money, uh, nada
I make that boy disappear, ta da
I keep a stick like Harry Potter
I fuck your bitch, I don't even call her
I put them racks all on my collar
That bitch is a gnat, her head like a scholar
Smoking green just like olive
I follow the money just like a stalker
High off tree, like koala
High off me, like a flosser
Off the lean, like a cougher
See the beam, then we lost him
See the drip, yeah, it cost him
Yeah, it cost him aye, 30 on my hip
He ain't even know, 'cause he ain't hip
No umbrella catch this drip
Chill, you can't even come to the crib
I was outside in Atlanta
So she don't even know where I live
Ho, where is your manners?
She eat the dick like a dinner
Don't pop a Xan', hop in the sprinter
Wait, I was the one in the Balenciagas
You talking down? Then I hit up my partner
Dread head, really look like a Rasta
He got the glick but he not a shotta
I got the gas bag, like my father
Say he get money, uh, nada
I make that boy disappear, ta da