letra de rada rada - fredo bang
[intro]
(what are you? who are you the mob or somethin’?)
(it’s a gd beat)
(uno got the streets goin’ crazy)
(hardbody)
[verse 1]
i’m ballin’ hard, ain’t gotta pass the ball
i don’t need your s-x at all
i done knocked down half the town
i don’t need no pass around (yeah)
i’ve f-cked the finest, covered in diamonds
they think that i’m conceited (they think that i’m conceited)
f-ck a b-tch, i need my check, up in my palm, i gotta see it (yeah, yeah, yeah), uh-huh
you spend your rent, your water bill, your light bill too, just on your bundles (on your bundles)
babe, i’m a ape, i give you d-ck fresh out the jungle (fresh out the jungle)
i got sh-t, thеy tryna f-ck me, keep your kid, and i’m like, “nah”
you get a bag and want a baby, wе could go half (oh, oh)
[chorus]
could turn you up, could turn you down, you get your options (yeah)
i could turn you to a baddie like madonna
i work at mickey d’s when you can’t f-ck with a big-timer (we get high)
you can be my b-tch but you don’t come before these commas
oh ooh, rada, rada, rada, rada, rada, ra (yeah)
i hit a l!ck, split this sh-t with my guys (yeah)
i’ma pick the money over b-tches all the time
why stress a b-tch? this money got me feelin’ fine
[verse 2]
rich b-tch, i cut you off right now, you tell me you can’t play the part (yeah, yeah)
b-tch, i’m turnt up bad, i don’t need your ass, i could have any wh0re (yeah, yeah)
i got this sh-t on me right now, what the f-ck i gotta be cappin’ for? (got that sh-t on i)
stripper b-tch, i p-ssed that sh-t you clappin’ your lil’ booty for (i gotta put ’em on)
i got a b-tch to line ’em up and now she wonder where’s the fire (fire)
turnin’ heads and breakin’ necks when i be passin’ in my ride (ride)
she been sellin’ that lil’ p-ssy, she done ran up all her miles (miles)
tryna plant a baby, i use a rubber, i can’t believe that ho had tried
[chorus]
could turn you up, could turn you down, you get your options (yeah)
i could turn you to a baddie like madonna
i work at mickey d’s when you can’t f-ck with a big-timer (we get high)
you can be my b-tch but you don’t come before these commas
oh ooh, rada, rada, rada, rada, rada, ra (yeah)
i hit a l!ck, split this sh-t with my guys (yeah)
i’ma pick the money over b-tches all the time
why stress a b-tch? this money got me feelin’ fine
letras aleatórias
- letra de classic love - tom orlando
- letra de bent and broken - battle beast
- letra de intro - fred the godson
- letra de sie passt nicht - elisabeth das musical
- letra de porn - jesus b.
- letra de putos - kaydy cain
- letra de 90's - ajé
- letra de 200 kg - braco
- letra de slay - big tobz
- letra de prisoners of their hairdos - four bitchin' babes