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letra de double dutch - rahrah gabor

[hook: rahrah gabor]

d-mn girl
do that sh-t
all these b-tches get sick when you
do that sh-t
all the n-ggas catch brick when you
do that sh-t
feeling like you that b-tch when you
do that sh-t
like you
double dutch on ’em
yeah
double dutch on ’em
uh-huh
double dutch on ’em
top down, pop the clutch on ’em

[verse 1: rahrah gabor]
bang that sh-t, n-gga bump that sh-t
all the pretty, fly honeys gon’ f-ck with this
take it back to drill team and double dutch with this
hair done, nails done, poking out your lips, like
all, all, all in together
make a n-gga sweat in any kind of weather
winter fresh, cole haan boots and a leather
if i ain’t somewhere gettin’ high then i’m somewhere gettin’ cheddar
cash money honeys, these f-ckers should know better
a-1 b-tch, hester prynne, scarlet letter
never catch me with birds i’m allergic to the feathers
prolly phillippe bound blowing smoke in a stretcher
we live the good life cuz too many done left us
so if you feelin’ pretty pop hard with your chest up
never let a b-tch n-gga tell you that you ain’t next up
and keep sh-ttin’ on these haters like they live in a rest stop
uh

[hook]
d-mn girl
do that sh-t
all these b-tches get sick when you
do that sh-t
all the n-ggas catch brick when you
do that sh-t
feeling like you that b-tch when you
do that sh-t
like you
double dutch on ’em
yeah
double dutch on ’em
uh-huh
double dutch on ’em
top down, pop the clutch on ’em

[verse 2: rahrah gabor]
mail man, mail man, do your duty
here come my b-tches with the big fat booties
might switch when i walk, but my n-ggas unruly
get sl!ck when you talk, and they’re sn-tchin’ ya’ jewelry
gotta thing for bud, i ain’t talkin’ the brewery
ya b-tch don’t spit like this, now do she?
my flow hot hoe it might sweat out ya doobie
hood n-gga, like to get f-cked to tunechi
if i’m in the corner store i’m never coppin’ the loosies
two ditches, mike and ikes and fifty cent juicies
this is for my b-tches who be stacking that looseleaf
and like to get their swerve on but never so loosely
if they up in bloomingdales then their coppin’ the gucci
run up on ’em wrong and they’re smacking ya kufi
knock a n-gga out like they slipped ’em a roofey
up top, with the pot for their mans in their coochie

[verse 3]
the hood love it when i pop my sh-t
course these hatin’ -ss hoes wanna fight my b-tch
lotta hungry n-ggas lurkin’ better watch ya wrist
getcha own sh-t n-gga don’t ride my d-ck
brought my own sack of sour, i don’t want your piff
all them likes on the gram, girl you not that b-tch
them ya man chains lil’ bruh, you not that rich
roll a double dutch up, i need to scratch my itch
pretty guy, stay high, been fly since first grade
b-tches act fly, just ridin’ their first plane
my neck game crazy, ya b-tch sh-t so sane
if you smoking on that gas, i’m smoking that propane
boss n-gga coming, stay into ya own lane
n-ggas thinking that i’m playing, i promise it’s no game
i spit ether, so f-ck ya lil’ flame
n-ggas telling you, you hot, and i promise you so lame

- rahrah gabor

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