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benji bomber - no more heroes lyrics

i came in way too hot
got something to say, but i talk a lot
if you’re comparing my s+x to fragrances, he said it’s feeling like baccarat
but i think bakugo, ’cause when i start sweating, it gets explosive
i’ma throw my pink ball down his alleyway, strike out like bowling

he wanna swim in the ocean
but it’s full of great whites, piranhas, and sperm whales and full of commotion
so follow my hoshin
wait, oh sh+t!
lemme get a li’l spf in the lotion
they say”laissez les bons temps rouler” but ain’t sh+t rolling

but oui cher
heard about a lot of things, but ain’t heard about me yet
it’s evident, you ain’t never evеr ever met a b+tch likе me yet
fan me with tropical leaves while i put my feet back
it’s crunch time, like celery stalks, some kind of green snack
been stopped kicking up the sand to get my feet wet
ain’t worried about b+tches feelings or their feedback
coming for all my d+cks this year because i need that
this the last time i don a cape, ’cause i don’t feel that

ain’t no more heroes
these b+tches get a hip replacement, and they’re still broke
ain’t f+cking with the sentiment
not even a little bit
i’m sweeter than cinnamon
like a bimbo
any one of you b+tches, any one of you hoes thinking you can try me, it can give combo
i’ma whip these billy+headed blank ass hoes in shape, tae bo
check me out
what’s that on my wrist? it ain’t no drought
i said check me out
what’s that on my wrist? it ain’t no drought

check the wrist
check the neck, check the shoes, check the ass, check the fit
check cleared; if a b+tch play with it then i might check the b+tch
used to let b+tches out move me now i play checkers, b+tch
backgammon, chess, spades, poker face, twenty+one, guess the chip

i be, i be giving, giving life like a uterus
i be, i be always late to work, off duty sh+t
money money me, my swiss account kinda full of it
honey, honey, you done had your chance; ain’t no fooling sh+t

i’m schooling sh+t
change your whole mood, i’m a magician
benji never ever felt these hoes, i’m no physician
spit that sh+t that stimulates follicles like beauticians
it’s never been about what you’re getting but what you’re giving

i’m giving grown man, you’re giving too broke
you’re giving too short, baby; i done had enough
it’s giving sour punch, pucker up candy
it’s making b+tches bubble up, outstanding
they can’t stand me
(ahahahahahahaha)
but who told these b+tches to get up?

- benji bomber lyrics

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