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Drego & Beno - Slatt Season lyrics

Artist: Drego & Beno

album: Sorry For The Get Off


(Kilo made this)
Whoo!
I asked her, can she kick a split? I gotta dip (I gotta dip)
I'ma pull up with the choppa with the flip-around clip
You better get your mans, he on her Instagram (he on her Instagram)
I don't give a fuck about his chicken head (bitch)
Pull out and dump it open on his jeffin' ass (bitch)
Saditty bitch, I swear she actin' bougie bad (she actin' bougie bad)
Big titties but I don't know where her booty at (where her booty at)
Don't be surprised when I pull up with the boggeyman
Hi-Tech and Percs in the Louis bag (in the Loius bag)
Block so hot, we still gon' slap the bag (slap the bag)
Bitch over there, damn, she shakin' ass (she shakin' ass)
I gave her few Percs, she start actin' bad (huh)
Dawg, see me with his bitch, he lookin' mad (ah)
Dawg, get off my ass, I mean (yeah)
Dawg, get off your ass (ah)
I ain't fuck your bitch, she just shoot the bag (whoo!)
I'm ridin' with 'bout 30 years in the trunk ('bout 30 years)
Two hoes in the back and one in the front (one in the front)
One countin' up slips, one suckin' her thumb (one suckin' her thumb)
'Bout to run this shit up, and it's all off the funds
Man, the K in the back, the Glock in the front
It's one in the head, you know how we bombin' (know how we bombin')
My trust in her bag, it's trust in a slut (bitch)
Been found a rider, I said, "You the one"
If you got hit with a bag, what would you do with it? (Do with it)
I just got the whole script from Dr. Dolittle (Dr. Dolittle)
Load is so big I need two bitches (I need two)
Unc', pass me down the game and I ran with it (huh)
I don't trust them hoes, we need two rentals (two rentals)
I'ma call up Damian Lillard, tell him, "Tell them bitches" (tell him to tell them bitches)
We ain't even have to leave, told 'em mail them bitches (told 'em mail them bitches)
And the bitches vacuumed, shh, they ain't smell them bitches (shh)
I let 'em see me rack the Glock, this shit lookin' iffy
You gotta pay me just to fuck, bitch, I'm really pimpin' (I'm really pimpin')
Yeah, I'm Tity Boi, bitch, I'm acting different
Beans walk in, he lookin' for the syrup
My mama said, "What's on your plate?" I said, "Ma, I need some grits and yams"
I'm on the road to success, I can't get in a jam
I'm servin' Justin Timberlake, my white girl whippin', yeah (hmm)
I done really came up off the pots and pans (off the pots and pans)
You know my fam? I ain't know that, damn (I ain't know that, damn)
If I get caught, then I'm going fed (then I'm going fed)
All these wild thoughts runnin' through my head (runnin' through my head)
All these freaky hoes all up in my bed
Man, my lil' bitch, she all about her bread
You get up on her, you think you gon' hit (gon' hit)
Don't be surprised, she ask you, "Where the bread?" (boy)
She bring it back, she come in, and she spread, boy (men)
I get you knocked out your Jordan Craigs, boy
He tryna cop a plea, oh, you like Craig, boy
He think it's dropped, he done put his dance on it
I ain't fuck, I just put my mans on it
Hi-Tech and Percs in the Louis bag
Block so hot, we still gon' slap the bag
Bitch over there, damn, she shakin' ass
I gave her few Percs, she start actin' bad
Hi-Tech and Percs in the Louis bag
Block so hot, we still gon' slap the bag
Bitch over there, damn, she shakin' ass
I gave her few Percs, she start actin' bad

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