Meth, GHOST, Rae - Miranda lyrics
[Meth, GHOST, Rae - Miranda lyrics]
Miranda speaking Spanish
Yo, man, just let her
Live, man, stop playing, man
Oh, shit, B, where's Miranda? (She with Chef)
I dreamed it, Chef out in Cuba, a ruger
Thirty thou' on him, out in Mr chow
Blew a cloud on him
Seen a Latin chick, laughing, clapping
Like your style, homey, say it proud
Hit the Cryital
Now we chatting, Cohibas and Colecos
Who do this a size six
She split up, had a brick, I peeped those
Her jeans was fitted, hair twisted
Long as a fuck
She looked Indian, titties was plump
Had juicy lips, dimples
Imprint on her pussy was mad thick
She grabbed my dick, hopped in the window
We in the Monte Carlo, bravo
Uncle named Pablo
Gun connect, and he had his poke in Los Cabos
Good money, honey was strung
Playing Luther in the background
Spanish version, my bunny was horny as fuck
Working the kid, we burst later
Lay in the bed
Duvet sheets, my face hit the spread
Then time me, I'm not the kind of nigga
I was cool down at night
Drop my gun, shorty, my nigga
Body was sexy, "Lexy, come here, nigga
Take off your drawers
Let me suck your dick, nigga, it's yours"
Got real watery, Corey, "Damn
You got good dick"
You forty spit on it, position your jaw
Call me 8-Ball, this pussy like China
Climb the Great Wall
Then she came like volcanos in the late fall
Lady Miranda
She half black and white like a panda
I met her at the BET Awards, in Atlanta
Glamour girl, shopping in Bloomingdale's
Skin pure keep a fresh manicure
Hands with the cutest nails
Wall Street banker
Hold accounts with Jewish now
Big businessmen
Who own stocks in computer sales
Meanwhile, I'm checking her jeans out
Imagining her fat bubble, riding my dick
Making her scream out she got a mean mouth
Her lips is like soup coolers
Hotter than niggas riding around
With six rugers miss Beaulah took a day off
With a rich jeweler
When she came back she had a
Suitcase full of Franck Mullers
I met her at a villa in Vancouver
Blowing her man's buddah
Bumping Mary J and that Grand Puba
Check the 411, from a smooth operator
Got some pictures of her naked
I'll send them to Un later
Aye, Dio mio, mamacita ass bonita
Remind me of Vanessa Del Rio
I met at the Cotto fights
Playing my seat though
That night, the linen was white
Me and my hijos
Live from Puerto Rico, San Juan
Where niggas sniff pedrico
Look at your man wrong, finito
Girl you know how we go
You getting my grown man on
Fuck with you primo, maybe I'm hands on
I'll massage your ego and be
The love of your life
You know your people, a thug and his wife
Gave a look, she was touching my ice
So I looked at my dick
Like don't worry, we fucking tonight
She boricua, cinnamon skin, sign is Libra
She like wife beaters and men
That like to eat her
Then I meet your feet up
Meet me in room 112, light this reefer
You act right, and after tonight
I might keep ya
Yo, man, just let her
Live, man, stop playing, man
Oh, shit, B, where's Miranda? (She with Chef)
I dreamed it, Chef out in Cuba, a ruger
Thirty thou' on him, out in Mr chow
Blew a cloud on him
Seen a Latin chick, laughing, clapping
Like your style, homey, say it proud
Hit the Cryital
Now we chatting, Cohibas and Colecos
Who do this a size six
She split up, had a brick, I peeped those
Her jeans was fitted, hair twisted
Long as a fuck
She looked Indian, titties was plump
Had juicy lips, dimples
Imprint on her pussy was mad thick
She grabbed my dick, hopped in the window
We in the Monte Carlo, bravo
Uncle named Pablo
Gun connect, and he had his poke in Los Cabos
Good money, honey was strung
Playing Luther in the background
Spanish version, my bunny was horny as fuck
Working the kid, we burst later
Lay in the bed
Duvet sheets, my face hit the spread
Then time me, I'm not the kind of nigga
I was cool down at night
Drop my gun, shorty, my nigga
Body was sexy, "Lexy, come here, nigga
Take off your drawers
Let me suck your dick, nigga, it's yours"
Got real watery, Corey, "Damn
You got good dick"
You forty spit on it, position your jaw
Call me 8-Ball, this pussy like China
Climb the Great Wall
Then she came like volcanos in the late fall
Lady Miranda
She half black and white like a panda
I met her at the BET Awards, in Atlanta
Glamour girl, shopping in Bloomingdale's
Skin pure keep a fresh manicure
Hands with the cutest nails
Wall Street banker
Hold accounts with Jewish now
Big businessmen
Who own stocks in computer sales
Meanwhile, I'm checking her jeans out
Imagining her fat bubble, riding my dick
Making her scream out she got a mean mouth
Her lips is like soup coolers
Hotter than niggas riding around
With six rugers miss Beaulah took a day off
With a rich jeweler
When she came back she had a
Suitcase full of Franck Mullers
I met her at a villa in Vancouver
Blowing her man's buddah
Bumping Mary J and that Grand Puba
Check the 411, from a smooth operator
Got some pictures of her naked
I'll send them to Un later
Aye, Dio mio, mamacita ass bonita
Remind me of Vanessa Del Rio
I met at the Cotto fights
Playing my seat though
That night, the linen was white
Me and my hijos
Live from Puerto Rico, San Juan
Where niggas sniff pedrico
Look at your man wrong, finito
Girl you know how we go
You getting my grown man on
Fuck with you primo, maybe I'm hands on
I'll massage your ego and be
The love of your life
You know your people, a thug and his wife
Gave a look, she was touching my ice
So I looked at my dick
Like don't worry, we fucking tonight
She boricua, cinnamon skin, sign is Libra
She like wife beaters and men
That like to eat her
Then I meet your feet up
Meet me in room 112, light this reefer
You act right, and after tonight
I might keep ya