a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

letra de parker a.k.a. neil patrick harris's son - lil kruzi

[verse]
i met him at this house party on grand and west
he had the credentials of a male stripper in atlanta
ass came with a hump, from the jump he was a camel
i want to ride like arabians, push an ’04 mercedes-benz
“h-llo, my name is kruzi,” he said, “no, you’re handsome”
whispered in my ear, disappeared, then found him dancin’
george michael had played in the background
the parade music we made had us all wearin’ shades now, cool
“where you stay?” he said, “down the street from parkview high”
okay, i know that’s borderline springfield or westport
“well, is it springfield?” “no,” he replied
then quickly start battin’ his eyes
i strictly had wanted his thighs around me
seventeen with nothin’ but bussy stuck on my mental
my motive was rather sinful, “what you tryna get into?”
he didn’t tell, just gave me his insta
dropped the user, we chirped the whole summer, and, well
the summer had passed, and now i’m likin’ him
conversation we havin’ probably enticin’ him
who can imagine? maybe my actions’ll end up wifin’ him
love or l-st, regardless, we’ll f-ck ’cause the trife in us
it’s deep-rooted, the music of bein’ young and dumb
is never muted, in fact, it’s much louder where i’m from
we know a lot ’bout each other, his mother was a drag queen
he live with his granny and his younger two brothers
his favorite cousin demetrius is irrepetible
family history of g-ngb-ngin’ did make me skeptical
but not enough to stop me from gettin’ a nut in a b-tt
“i wanna come over, what’s up?”
that’s what i told him soon as this episode
of martin go off, i’m tryna get off
i was in heat like a cactus
my tactics of bein’ thirsty probably could hurt me
but f-ck it, i got some heart
grabbed my mama keys, hopped in the car, then, oh boy
so now i’m down vernon in a caravan
passin’ brime, my gas meter in need of a pump
i got enough to get me through the traffic jam
at least i hope, ’cause my pockets broke as a promise, man
i’m thinkin’ ’bout that s-x
thinkin’ ’bout his thighs or maybe kissin’ on his neck or maybe what position’s next
sent some pictures of his booty, blowin’ up my texts
i looked at ’em and almost ran my front bumper into corvette
enthused by the touch of a twink, he’s a masseuse
and i’m a professional p-rnstar when off the goose
i had a fifth in the trunk like curtis jackson for ransom
i’m hopin’ to get him loose like an uncle luke anthem
i’m two blocks away, two hundred and fifty feet
and six steps from where he stay, he wavin’ me ‘cross the street
i pulled up, a smile on my face, and then i see
two n-ggas, two black hoodies, i froze as my phone rang

- lil kruzi

letras aleatórias

MAIS ACESSADOS