Butter - Sneaky Link lyrics
[Butter - Sneaky Link lyrics]
Yeah
Yeah I heard y’all call for some heat
We’ll let’s light this bitch up
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Can you keep it on the hush hush
That real low
Silent and deadly, I shoot low blows
Cuffed ain’t the angle, I’m mingling
I’m the real show, flow like poison
Little widow
X on my back
My shooter got the strap if you coming behind
Niggas get blown back
Search party, put them in the box like Joe
Flow so sick, I had to let these niggas know
Lame ass niggas always trying to
Get a hug from me
Bringing out the Love in me, Quinn
So it’s time to get the Glock
From above on me
(get the Glock, from above on me)
I ain’t your girl, we meet
Up on the weekends, you tweaking
Got my name up in your mouth
Please have a seat man
I don't even know your last name
You trying to ride the wave
You trying to buckle up
How about shut the fuck up?
Sweat pants, hair tied
Chilling with no make up on
That’s when I can take your nigga
Hope that you don't take it wrong
The best he ever had
Still mad he ain’t get to bone
Crocs in drive, on the run
I gotta make it home
Won't give him any, so he tripping
Childish ass niggas, I sit pretty
Get attention
Big billboards with my name on it
Dating older men, Wolfsbane on him
Lost me on my way to the top
Real heavy gravity, I can’t stop
Won’t stop, get dropped
Pop, pop, pop said my little old Glock
You in shock, a little pretty gem, no flocks
Standing by the stage, little groupie
You trivial as fuck, thinking that a rich
Nigga gonna put you on the up’s
Like do that nigga really even give a fuck?
(even give a fuck?)
I ain’t your girl, we meet
Up on the weekends
You tweaking, got my name up in your mouth
Please have a seat man
I don’t even know your last name
You trying to
Ride the wave, you trying to buckle up
How about shut the fuck up?
How about shut the fuck up
How about shut the fuck up
How about shut the fuck up
Yeah, yeah
Sweat pants, hair tied
Chilling with no make up
On, that’s when I can take your nigga
Hope that you don’t take
It wrong, the best he ever had
Still mad he ain’t
Get to bone, Crocs in drive, on the run
I gotta make it home
I fell in love with my sneaky link
That’s all this is, got you feeling like
We in sync we Apryl n’ Omarion
Cause he Lil Fizz
Copped his best friend
I know I made him hurt
Niggas feeling real Burnt, it’s getting
Me real felling real turnt
Walk it Like I talk it
Now it’s time to let me go
All that char on his ego
Shit his breath stink like Fritos
Eat you up and spit you out, shit you
Know what I’m about, tip you over
Pour you out
Man eater, fuck that I'm a band eater
1000’s on my wrist, never trust a bitch
Switch
It up real quick, only seeing blue strips
Bitch
Yeah I heard y’all call for some heat
We’ll let’s light this bitch up
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Can you keep it on the hush hush
That real low
Silent and deadly, I shoot low blows
Cuffed ain’t the angle, I’m mingling
I’m the real show, flow like poison
Little widow
X on my back
My shooter got the strap if you coming behind
Niggas get blown back
Search party, put them in the box like Joe
Flow so sick, I had to let these niggas know
Lame ass niggas always trying to
Get a hug from me
Bringing out the Love in me, Quinn
So it’s time to get the Glock
From above on me
(get the Glock, from above on me)
I ain’t your girl, we meet
Up on the weekends, you tweaking
Got my name up in your mouth
Please have a seat man
I don't even know your last name
You trying to ride the wave
You trying to buckle up
How about shut the fuck up?
Sweat pants, hair tied
Chilling with no make up on
That’s when I can take your nigga
Hope that you don't take it wrong
The best he ever had
Still mad he ain’t get to bone
Crocs in drive, on the run
I gotta make it home
Won't give him any, so he tripping
Childish ass niggas, I sit pretty
Get attention
Big billboards with my name on it
Dating older men, Wolfsbane on him
Lost me on my way to the top
Real heavy gravity, I can’t stop
Won’t stop, get dropped
Pop, pop, pop said my little old Glock
You in shock, a little pretty gem, no flocks
Standing by the stage, little groupie
You trivial as fuck, thinking that a rich
Nigga gonna put you on the up’s
Like do that nigga really even give a fuck?
(even give a fuck?)
I ain’t your girl, we meet
Up on the weekends
You tweaking, got my name up in your mouth
Please have a seat man
I don’t even know your last name
You trying to
Ride the wave, you trying to buckle up
How about shut the fuck up?
How about shut the fuck up
How about shut the fuck up
How about shut the fuck up
Yeah, yeah
Sweat pants, hair tied
Chilling with no make up
On, that’s when I can take your nigga
Hope that you don’t take
It wrong, the best he ever had
Still mad he ain’t
Get to bone, Crocs in drive, on the run
I gotta make it home
I fell in love with my sneaky link
That’s all this is, got you feeling like
We in sync we Apryl n’ Omarion
Cause he Lil Fizz
Copped his best friend
I know I made him hurt
Niggas feeling real Burnt, it’s getting
Me real felling real turnt
Walk it Like I talk it
Now it’s time to let me go
All that char on his ego
Shit his breath stink like Fritos
Eat you up and spit you out, shit you
Know what I’m about, tip you over
Pour you out
Man eater, fuck that I'm a band eater
1000’s on my wrist, never trust a bitch
Switch
It up real quick, only seeing blue strips
Bitch