Correction Paroles 21.1 par 21spendexx

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Paroles

Mic check, 1-3-1-2
It’s that c**t 21, from the 312
He Sun Zhu, and I got 'em asking me, “um, dude
How the f**k is everyone still sleeping on you?”, I’m like
I don’t f**kin’ know, bro
Pu**y fat and pink, so I call it f**kin’ Slowpoke
No joke, have that fling, disappear like Roanoke
So soaked, grab yo hoe and bada bing she ghost ya
Oh no! Did I f**k your bae again
You call me the Spuillotine, took that f**king maidenhead
Lady spread and laid in bed, I’ll poke in a jiffy
Yo hoe been giving different strokes to different folks in different cities
Chasing money, sh*t
She tryna get chummy with the clique, I said
Not By The Hair On My Dummy Fat D**k
And if that tummy have a kick, imma abort that sh*t
Support no kid, .44 to your forehead if
You talking this sh*t, that sh*t
D**k on her lips like Chapstick
Requiem for a bean, I’m a pu**y addict
Snackin’ on a clit, till she look a little frail, and
Then I shove the package through the slit like a mailman
Don’t doubt me
Adele wrote a whole album about me
Call me Excalibur cause I don’t pull out
These hoes tryna shoot they shot but I’m a different f**king caliber
I ain’t an NES, boy, don’t be playing Galaga

"How you always kickin’ it bro?"
Cause 21 got soul, so much that the soul got 21
She left you for guess who? I Tappman
And you can catch-22, but you know you can’t catch 21
I hit and I bust like it’s blackjack
And your girl playing too, shame on you
She tryna get that 21
B*t*h busty, a bit lusty, and trust me
I’m a ten with a 9, that’s why, they always call me 21

Twenty
Uh

One more than a score finna score withcha w****
She on her knees for the sausage - Boar on the Floor
I’m in the cut like Neosporin, b*t*hes call me Dumbledore
Cause I’m the head master, kill the pu**y like a cat abortion
I get the bag and I ain’t humble with the bundle
Show off these dead presidents like the Capitol rotunda
Bring the thunder when I give her the clap and genital herpes
I get more brain than John F. Kennedy’s car seat
And I won’t take no L, but I’d more than like the BJ
Call ACB and AOC, we’ll organize a three-way
To tell the truth about the dame, I bet I made her chin hurt
She blew till she was dead, Ruth Bader Ginsberg
South Bent over and the Dome was Golden
Righty tighty when we screw, then I’m nuttin’ and boltin’
Penicillin ill, mental with a pencil, my sh*t essential
And your dogs all f**k with me like I’m that b*t*h from Central
My b*t*h bad like the state of the economy
She back that a** up and then place that pu**y onto me
She fond of me, she fondle me, swallowing my progeny
Follows my lead, and I give her that marrow and mahogany, y’all
Biting my sh*t, coprophagy would suit ya
Boy you, taking the L like Chicago commuters
My city ride with me, why, the kiddie like a Divvy Bike
Itty-bitty tyke, leave 'em dizzy like their middy might

This week this girl can’t remember my name
Next week I’ll be on the tip of her tongue
This my
Century
Going ember to flame
Paleo, against the grain he go
Get d**ked
It’s 21

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