Correction Paroles Skeet N Leave par T-Shyne

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Paroles

F**k on a b*t*h, she fan, hit from the back, do damage (Woah, woah)
The head from out of this world, the pu**y on another planet (Woah, woah)
Yeah, I skeet and leave
F**k up her makeup and pull on her weave
Face down, a** up, she couldn't breath
My d**k in her mouth, now she can't speak

I don't get attached, facts
She getting sick, yeah, b*t*h need a vax
I'm landin' in Cabo, I'm back on the map
I tap in, she pull up whenever I'm back
My brodie stay strapped
He play the block, dominating like Shaq
I say the word, I think he might attack
He done caught a few bodiеs, could tell by the tats
Her timе on demon, look in her eyes
She tryna f**k on whoever supplying
You ain't 'bout to run it up, b*t*h, stop trying
You ain't got a hundred in the bank, stop lying

F**k on that b*t*h from the back
Shoot up the block, now that n***a get splat
I rep the slatt
I'm in the back with a motherf**kin' strap
I put my town on the map
I know he pu**y, he turn to a cat (B*t*h)
Uh, return of the mack
I got your b*t*h on my app
Took this sh*t to the moon
Bad b*t*h tryna get loose
Tell my opp I ain't calling no truce
I'm in LA and I'm ridin' in the coupe

Yeah, yeah
Let's have sex
Let's have sex, uh
Let's have sex, yeah
Let's have sex, yeah

Let's have sex
Shorty like, "Let's have sex"
F**k her, then I f**k her friend next
I been ballin' like I'm cuttin' up the net
Got an actress, f**k her on set
She the best secret ever kept
Yeah, all my opps done vanished
Got a bad b*t*h speak Spanish
I'm high, I don't care about landing
F**k her from the back, she damaged
Yeah, yeah

Turn up your block for my dogs
If it's beef, then we all get involved
I rep YSL, yeah, that's the squad
Shorty treat me like my name was God
She tryna keep up like I'm a Kardashian
She wanna geek up, pop one, then I'm mashin' it
If I f**k on your b*t*h, then it wasn't on accident
She give me head in the sky when I'm travelling
Mile high club
F**k one time, ho, don't fall in love
Beat on her box and I put on the gloves
Catch me with 12, I'm right out the club
Got primetime real estate
Yeah, rose gold Cartier
She off Percocets and Chardonnay
And her a** get to movin' like pardon me
I was just hungry, b*t*h, this is not a date
And my brother push pounds like he lifting weights
And I came a long way up from Section 8
I mean, look at the chain, they gotta hate

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