G STAR BOBBY - Phonecase Greg: текст песни id 67202313
Chillin' in my G Star Jeans, free Bobby Shmurda please
With my greenery, money signs and fuckin' weed
Got the stinky cheese, can you fuck with me
Like the bat mobile, black fit bitch I can fly
Soaring through the sky, slash down like devil may cry
Sharingan my eyes, see through these bullshit lies
And they wonder why, I’m so hot like magic mike
Cross you out of the equation, shout out Jesus Christ
At a veggie grill, vegan burger, vegan fries
All these sinful lies, repeat in front of my eyes
Ghost Rider stare after that you might just die
It be suicide, if you decide to approach me
Slice in the sky, then your limbs drop like raw meat
Wrist watch like Ben 10 Alien Force
With the Swarovski flashing like I’m speaking Morse
And my car seats suburu no fucking Porsche
After Covid-19, I’m headed straight to Greece
I feel like Hercules and my shorty Aphrodite
She got the perfect body, everybody thinks she’s Saudi
But she’s Trinidadian, Puerto Rican, Honduran
Chillin' with the bros, Super Mario Bros
This beat ludacris, and I’m throwing bows
Wearing all these clothes
Dropped out lik doflamingo
I don’t fuck with hoes, got a wifey it’s for real though
Chillin' in my G Star Jeans, free Bobby Shmurda please
With my greenery, money signs and fuckin' weed
Got the stinky cheese, can you fuck with me
Like the bat mobile, black fit bitch I can fly
Soaring through the sky, slash down like devil may cry
Sharingan my eyes, see through these bullshit lies
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