letras.top
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 laughin - xoslit

Loading...

[chorus]
ay
laughin’, b-tch i ain’t cappin’
i dont want yo love, i cannot have it
45 on my lap, b-tch imma grab it
grab it, grab it, grab it, grab it
b-tch imma grab it
now she actin’ ratchet
pull up all black, cuz you know i’m in that sh-t
that sh-t, that sh-t, that sh-t, that sh-t, that sh-t all
that sh-t all wack
pull up all black, now she on my lap
b-tch on my d-ck now i’m gonna laugh
hop in the back, lets jus go fast
slit on his sh-t, now he countin’ cash
cash, cash, cash b-tch
yeah i’m countin’ bags
[verse 1]
yeah i’m gettin’ bags
b-tch want my love, she wanna dance
gettin’ to my racks, share it with my friends
i can’t pretend, strap 45 wheres yo f-ckin’ mans?
oh my god, he f-ckin’ dead
dead, dead, dead, dead, dead (ay, ay)
every time i wake up a new b-tch in my bed
and i got yo b-tch givin’ me head
semi automatic pistol, leave him full of lead
pull up all black, but you know i’m seein’ red
pull up on yo b-tch now she gettin’ undrеssed
yeah undressеd
yeah she gettin’ undressed cause we jus’ f-cked
pull up on yo b-tch, slit gettin’ buck
you know slit gonna get to his sh-t
cause i’m straight on that
i’ll f-ck her but i can’t own that
that b-tch reeks
[chorus]
laughin’, b-tch i ain’t cappin’
i dont want yo love, i cannot have it
45 on my lap, b-tch imma grab it
grab it, grab it, grab it, grab it
b-tch imma grab it
now she actin’ ratchet
pull up all black, cuz you know i’m in that sh-t
that sh-t, that sh-t, that sh-t, that sh-t, that sh-t all
that sh-t all wack
pull up all black, now she on my lap
b-tch on my d-ck now i’m gonna laugh
hop in the back, lets jus go fast
slit on his sh-t, now he countin’ cash
cash, cash, cash b-tch
yeah i’m countin’ bags
[verse 2]
i don’t give a f-ck
imma pull up
get f-cking buck
got my strap 45
but i keep that sh-t tucked
yeah i’m on my own
but i don’t need no love
i don’t want yo b-tch
i don’t want her
run up on him
leave him in a he-rs-
oh you tryna f-ck?
you gotta pay me first
automatic pistol gonna leave him hurt
lets get to the point i ain’t gonna flirt
i just wanna f-ck b-tch stop bein’ burnt
like no b-tch, i don’t want no love
i just wanna get to my bags
she keep hittin’ me up
askin’ why i gotta lag
yeah you had my love
why you gotta brag?
true religion jeans
i ain’t gonna sag
leather jacket b-tches see the tags
(b-tches see the tags, ay)
wavin’ like some flags
bust the 45 then imma f-ckin’ laugh
yeah

letras aleatórias

MAIS ACESSADOS

Loading...