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Don’t Wanna Dance
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Pasto Flocco
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B*t*h, I'm on drugs, I don't wanna dance I just copped designer pants I know how you?feel,?it's how I?feel, you know I understand Really, I?can't f**k with you, I guess I'm just not a fan Had to get it from the dirt, bloody nose and bloody bangs B*t*h, I'm counting cash right now She give me her cat and I get right out Broke her back, I ain't tryna touch her spine now Come over to your crib, now I made it my house Get hit, 'cause you walk with a gun now Troublemaker he don't walk when the sun out My plug retarded, he gave me a soda Think about cash, all the way 'til the sun down Neck tats, she wanna f**k Hit on my phone and she giving it up She be f**kin' with the whole gang And the whole gang, we be messing it up She my trap queen, bando Handle, what's your handle? Take you apart, yeah, dismantle, dismantle, dismantle I'm gettin' bands, get this sh*t on a rack Boy, don't let the clout get to your head AR-15 and that's it, you dead You sippin' on purple, you sippin' on meds Yeah-eah-eah, I'm depressed now Yeah-eah-eah, that's a touchdown B*t*h, I'm on drugs, I don't wanna dance I just copped designer pants I know how you feel, it's how I feel, you know I understand Really, I can't f**k with you, I guess I'm just not a fan Had to get it from the dirt, bloody nose and bloody bangs B*t*h, I'm counting cash right now She give me her cat and I get right out Broke her back, I ain't tryna touch her spine now Come over to your crib, now I made it my house Got a whole lot of emotion, her throat don't know how to approach it Plotting like a praying mantis, yeah, I'm not a lotus Yeah, I had to control all my feelings, yeah, I had to control it Now it's going to my head, yeah, it's stacking, yeah, it's bloated One-two-three-four-five-six-seven-eight-nine-ten I cannot f**k with you n***as, you n***as be worrying about all of the nonsense I don't got no time to stall, let's get it on and poppin' Now I feel sorry for all the b*t*hes that used to be floppin' She don't worry about nobody, and I ain't holding on Hey, I don't trust nobody, yeah, oh-no, yeah-yeah, yeah B*t*h, I'm on drugs, I don't wanna dance I just copped designer pants I know how you feel, it's how I feel, you know I understand Really, I can't f**k with you, I guess I'm just not a fan Had to get it from the dirt, bloody nose and bloody bangs B*t*h, I'm counting cash right now She give me her cat and I get right out Broke her back, I ain't tryna touch spine her now Come over to your crib, now I made it my house
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