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letra de rip follies - diamond* (2)

[intro]
phew, ayy, phew
ayy, phew, ayy, phew
hey, yeah, phew, it’s diamond-, bling, woo

[chorus]
lil’ bro be trippin’, tryna catch him a body (woo, woo)
my ho too skinny, i buy her a body (woo, ow)
mafia sh-t, b-tch, i move like john gotti (move like john gotti, yeah)
i’m throwin’ ones, screamin’, “r.i.p. follies” (hey, r.i.p. follies)
dripped in balenci, i’m fly as a pilot
he pop his lip then we pop at his noggin (boom)
these b-tches sharks and they f-ck all your partners
my pockets fat, b-tch, i’m not on the dollar
vvs pointers, that sh-t is not glass
these n-ggas broke, i should buy ’em a cast
i don’t f-ck b-tches that do not have class
i like her face, she don’t got no body
i told her it’s nothin’ to buy her a ass
fixin’ the dial, this sh-t made me crash (woah, ø way)
she sucked me soul in the whip while i’m drivin’ (woah, woah, ø way)
losin’ control behind the wheel, i might crash

[verse]
pulled out my chain, went the cold as december (hey)
f-cked her five times and i still never kissed her
back to back maybachs, they filled up with missiles
move with your ho, one shot, feel like a kicker
my b-tch a freak, she be piercin’ her nipples (woah-woah-woah)
ain’t buyin’ bottles but, b-tch, i’m a sipper (woah-woah-woah-woah)
i’m always pimpin’, boy, never a simper
ice in my t–th and they thought it was dentures (yeah)
i can’t complain, but this life gettin’ better
entourage filled up with trappers and smackers
n-ggas not real, this game filled up with actors (ayy, ayy, wow, wow)
and i’m way too real to just dab up these b-st-rds (woah-woah)
ysl shoes, they came out in ’03 (woo), these b-tches walk like i’m walkin’ in napkins (wow, wow, woo)
diamond- outside, boy, you better watch your feet
birkin my b-tch and i might double c
purple my cup, boy, i don’t do the green (uh-huh)
ferrari truck, that sh-t come out in spring (woo-woo)
she touched my d-ck then she turned to a fiend (woah, woah, woo)
sippin’ and spendin’ your rent on my jeans
f-ckin’ your b-tch, got her scent on my sheets
white on her clothes, i’m addicted to freaks (yeah)
house on the hills like we built that from greece
i don’t be talkin’, i just say, “capiche” (ayy, ayy, yeah)
[chorus]
lil’ bro be trippin’, tryna catch him a body (woo, woo)
my ho too skinny, i buy her a body (woo, ow)
mafia sh-t, b-tch, i move like john gotti (move like john gotti, yeah)
i’m throwin’ ones, screamin’, “r.i.p. follies” (hey, r.i.p. follies)
dripped in balenci, i’m fly as a pilot
he pop his lip then we pop at his noggin (boom)
these b-tches sharks and they f-ck all your partners
my pockets fat, b-tch, i’m not on the dollar
vvs pointers, that sh-t is not glass
these n-ggas broke, i should buy ’em a cast
i don’t f-ck b-tches that do not have class
i like her face, she don’t got no body
i told her it’s nothin’ to buy her a ass
fixin’ the dial, this sh-t made me crash (woah, ø way)
she sucked me soul in the whip while i’m drivin’ (woah, woah, ø way)
losin’ control behind the wheel, i might crash

[outro]
phew, phew

- diamond 2

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