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letra de thot curse - john gabbana

[intro]
ayy, i wanna hear this sh-t in all the mother f-ckin’ clubs, you know what i’m sayin’?
i wanna see all the bad b-tches just shakin’ they ass to this sh-t, you know what i’m sayin’?
john gabbana
(i ain’t finna tell you how ry got away with this sh-t)

[verse 1]
jump back, hunch back, show you what that pump like
oh, he gotta strap too? this gon’ be a gun fight
this gon’ be a fun night, this here boy that stunt life
f-ck it, i got one life, a p-ssy n-gga get one strike
it ain’t nothing, i know you social media n-ggas bluffing
you the type to hear some bubble wrap popping and get to ducking
call my choppa big bad wolf ’cause that b-tch get to huffin’ puffin’
she can’t sit ’round john gabbana unless that b-tch sucking, sucking
bend over and show somethin’
make a n-gga throw somethin’
play with me, i know somethin’
cl!ck clack, let you hold somethin’
checked the time and it’s 4 somethin’
grab a bottle, n-gga pour somethin’
i’ma d-ck her down ’til i break somethin’
come here baby, let me taste somethin’

[chorus]
see pretty b-tches in the club
but which one gon’ let me f-ck?
in my bl!cky you know i trust
off the remy, i feel like russ
n-gga broke, he a sitting duck
hollows hit like a semi truck
take a b-tch back to the bricks
hit her with the pickle, no rick
couple shots in, i’m lit
throw a lil’ money, we lit
whatever they with, we with
b-tch, let me see you jump on this d-ck
gabbana make the p-ssy drip
d-mn n-gga, you p-ssy whipped
if he play than then that p-ssy k!lled
better shave, i like my p-ssy silk
[verse 2]
ain’t nothing sweet, but i’ma star and my f-cking glock burst
before we start exchanging names, i want some f-cking top first
she wanna swallow all my kids, i call that sh-t the thot thirst
you f-ck her raw then have a kid, i call that sh-t the thot curse
timmy turn on tina
gomez, no selena
credit card fraud, no visa
puerto rican b-tch, my nina
she f-cked in the back of the beamer
after she f-ck, she clean up
n-gga want smoke, let’s link up
n-gga not broke, let’s drink up
i say let’s turn up the party
’bout time to get some sh-t started
i’ma tweak if i pop a molly
i feel like i’m ricky bobby
i like when she call me papi
this ain’t a perc, this an oxy
i’m pimping, not talking scotty
they say i’m goated, i’m godly
don’t wanna f-ck, b-tch, hit the door
matter fact, b-tch, just give me throat
yeah i got money, but i want more
try to rob me, get a tag on yo’ toe
nut in my b-tch, i’m like oh
diamonds be hitting, like woah
know i gotta walk with that stick, like patrol
don’t make me take ya’ soul
[chorus]
see pretty b-tches in the club
but which one gon’ let me f-ck?
in my bl!cky you know i trust
off the remy, i feel like russ
n-gga broke, he a sitting duck
hollows hit like a semi truck
take a b-tch back to the bricks
hit her with the pickle, no rick
couple shots in, i’m lit
throw a lil’ money, we lit
whatever they with, we with
b-tch, let me see you jump on this d-ck
gabbana make the p-ssy drip
d-mn n-gga, you p-ssy whipped
if he play than then that p-ssy k!lled
better shave, i like my p-ssy silk

[outro]
john gabbana, n-gga
this the mother f-ckin’ thot curse

- john gabbana

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