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bass santana - lol lyrics

[intro: b-ss santana]
(carry ya stink cunny, talkin’ all that fuck) bey
real talks right, this how you gotta come up

[chorus: b-ss santana]
racks off a ratchet b-tch, pimping with my pinky lit
purse first, lane switch, ha, ha, hahahaha
wavy, sip water, selling green to your daughter
when i tax her for that quarter, i’m like ha, ha, hahahaha

[verse 1: b-ss santana]
zoe him for that check, yeah
what gon’ happen next, hmm
maybe he upset, wet
red dot handle that, ooh
too late for that pressure
45, i’m special
cocaine on the dresser, yuh
your hoe tend to snort it when she miss you
work my wrist, ice shit, bs my initials
keep some pills inside my system
pull that pistol, they gon’ listen
wait, why they always on my d-ck
before, they ain’t listen
now they taking pictures
now she wanna fuck an ugly nigga
race, race, race, run up on a nigga no face, no case
oh how sweet, no amazing grace
make a nigga pray, make a nigga meet his make
okay, wait, wait, wait
ain’t no sleep for the lost that faith
can’t depend on another man, on another hand
fuck a rubber band, i’ma get a whole d-mn safe

[chorus: b-ss santana]
make racks off a ratchet b-tch, pimping with my pinky lit
purse first, lane switch, ha, ha, hahahaha
wavy, sip water, selling green to your daughter
when i tax her for that quarter, i’m like ha, ha, hahahaha

[post-chorus: b-ss santana]
ha, ha, ha, ha
ha, ha, ha, ha
ha, ha, ha, ha
ha, ha, hahahaha
ha, ha, ha, ha
ha, ha, ha, ha
ha, ha, ha, ha
ha, ha, hahahaha

[verse 2: kid trunks & flyboy tarantino]
okay, like vvs my neck
shirt red like the tech
nigga touch my pack
he finna get wet
flip your b-tch just like a tech deck board
pussy nigga can’t say no more
no more, save no hoe
that’s how the game go
fat young nigga with the pesosneed a big booty b-tch like j lo
okay, like what’s your payroll
looking like 00 no gate code
you a pussy -ss nigga, you fake tho
got my eye on your b-tch like i’m kano
we blowing up like volcano
we fly to the bank, we the greatest, you hating, no reason to hate though
my .45 ain’t no joke
nose running, she loving that c-ke
gatorade with a four
got your baby mama posted, posted at the trap bagging up an o
js going out the door
plays going out the door

[post-chorus: b-ss santana]
ha, ha, ha, ha
ha, ha, ha, ha
ha, ha, ha, ha
ha, ha, hahahaha
ha, ha, ha, ha
ha, ha, ha, ha
ha, ha, ha, ha
ha, ha, hahahaha
ha

- bass santana lyrics

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