Kishore Kumar Hits

Mahaji - Yuck! lyrics

Artist: Mahaji

album: Yuck!


Yeah that bitch gon' suck me up just like a straw
So I told that bitch get plenty
I rock supreme that be on my head
And on my face know it be Fendi
Bitch I don't give shit bout what you talking
I'm finna pull up in a Bentley
Polaroid cam everywhere I go it's a photoshoot
We taking plenty, ay
Bad bitch want get in my ride
Told the bitch lil hoe stay quiet
In the Mercedes' blacked out driving
Suicide doors on the coupe we dying
All on my teeth big smile they diamonds
Pull up and shoot lil bitch you dying
Saying they hate thats not my problem
I wouldn't give a fuck if they moms is crying
Pulled up in a Bentley, anything less gon' offend me
Shawty get fucked in her Fendi
Honda civic 'cos my old bitch doors close shut down
Power up, on my way to infinity, check me out
I got abilities, get yo bitch wet, right hand left hand
New check goddamn sumn' thicker than pan
Im a chef, photoshoot yuh
The thicker the pan, the sweeter the pussy
I made her a fan, yeah I got influence
I'm with the shits, pulled up and I shoot it
Hot head yeah she love it, masked up out in public
Crazy nigga and she blushin', hit the gas now we rushin'
Gun go blam, New York fam
Shut yo' fucking mouth bitch
3-4-7 I was raised, I became the topic
They want smoke, they gon choke
Shut yo' fucking mouth bitch
I dropped diamonds, we made family
We the fucking topic
Cash
Pull up and shoot, headshots we ain't missing
Whip on the low, know I been in the kitchen
Two shots and the bitch he going missing
Pull out the clock and that bitch start hissing
You getting hit with this piston
Bullets hit his top and he die in an instant
Bitch you can still get shot up from a distance
Fully auto on the drum ima blitz it
Ugh Damn, Beam on it
I am a demon
I pull the trigger make that boy have a seizure
You know the procedure
Bitch ima creep in
I handle the stick like a janitor sweeping
Bust him like piñata, open his matha
We finna shoot at that bitch with a beam
94 bullets we bust out the gutter
Chop with a sword it's gon' eat like a meal
Gun go blam, New York fam
Shut yo' fucking mouth bitch
3-4-7 I was raised, I became the topic
They want smoke, they gon choke
Shut yo' fucking mouth bitch
I dropped diamonds, we made family
We the fucking topic
Cash

Поcмотреть все песни артиста

Other albums by the artist

Similar artists