bigbabygucci – vogue lyrics
[intro]
yeah
yeah
yeah
[chorus]
with my enemy
got a lil’ bad b+tch, sweet like cinnamon
we no synonym
i’m gettin’ money, you a broke boy entity
sellin’ weed in the back street
gotta watch these hoes, run the gang like a track meet
had to do my taxes
gettin’ too much money, got too many assets
[post+chorus]
lotta diamonds, they baguettes
i don’t even speak french, my clothes italian
whole gang stay wylin’
know a n+gga stay dripped, don’t need no stylist
lil’ boy stay silent
we’ll pull up quick, whole gang they ridin’
i got my b+tch out of vogue
she so rich, [?] just like her clothes
wear dior, and paint white on her toes
i don’t know why she put coke in her nose
she a freak when she comin’ with me
so we f+ckin’, we don’t even speak
pop a perc, and i don’t even sleep
i’ve been deep in that b+tch for a week
[verse]
i’ve been deep in that b+tch, i’ve been gone
they been textin’, been callin’ my phone
they like, “gucci, man, where have you gone?”
got a bag, and i ain’t comin’ home
i’m so high, i might fall out the sky
power+f+ckin’, i wasn’t your type
got a gang, but you not ’bout that life
know you n+gga, you stay actin’ nice
off a drug, and you know that i’m gone
put her lips on my d+ck like a bong
hit that b+tch, smack her ass like a gong
we be f+ckin’, it sound like a song
said lil’ b+tch, “watch me on youtube”
i just pop me a perc, she like, “you too”
can’t connect with a ho like a bluetooth
she said i f+cked her friend, i’m like “who knew?”
“who you?”
got a b+tch in atl, look like new new
he can’t even find her back, he need a blue clue
i don’t even like to brag, i could’ve fooled you
n+ggas steady chillin’, servin’, could’ve sued you
try to play me? yeah, it’s cool, boo
ballerina b+tch, f+ck her in a tutu
[?], call that n+gga lulu
shootin’ for the stars, lookin’ for a new moon
told her play her part, i ain’t even lose you
when you gettin’ cash, hoes they choose you
[chorus]
with my enemy
got a lil’ bad b+tch, sweet like cinnamon
we no synonym
i’m gettin’ money, you a broke boy entity
sellin’ weed in the back street
gotta watch these hoes, run the gang like a track meet
had to do my taxes
gettin’ too much money, got too many assets
[post+chorus]
lotta diamonds, they baguettes
i don’t even speak french, my clothes italian
whole gang stay wylin’
know a n+gga stay dripped, don’t need no stylist
lil’ boy stay silent
we’ll pull up quick, whole gang they ridin’
i got my b+tch out of vogue
she so rich, [?] just like her clothes
wear dior, and paint white on her toes
i don’t know why she put coke in her nose
she a freak when she comin’ with me
so we f+ckin’, we don’t even speak
pop a perc, and i don’t even sleep
i’ve been deep in that b+tch for a week
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