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cole myer - calm down lyrics

you put your motherf+ckin’ head on my shoulders
bring me your b+tch and i’m bendin’ her over
i got the strap with me like i’m a soldier
go to the moon, now cole myer go solar
parents all jews, but i don’t need no kosher
baby won’t love me, i don’t need no closure
tough around me, better watch yo composure
you is a p+ssy, you gotta be bolder

my music gon’ blow up with xanman, my g
i get the feature, that sh+t wasn’t free
i sent free colin and now my mans free
i cut the beat, the best things come in three
i master locks and my d+ck is the key
i just want honey, but who do you be
marni on, marni on, marni on, marni on, marni on, marni on, marni on me

xanman
call up colе myer
walk down, feel like i’m michael myеrs
my side b+tch, keep on tryin’ to slash my tires
street (blank), we came from the trench
call up school, perc 30 itchin’
cartier frames, i look like a hipster
b+tch keep fallin’ in love she a simp
i feel like a pimp, my b+tch call me mister
i ain’t craig, yet i keep my stick out the drawer
real street (blank) plugged in like a power cord
called a white plug, what you called me a coward for
put it in her mouth like a sour straw
kick door, move, we open the back door
the b+tch on her knees like we shootin’ hollow
we bring that smoke to your ass like max flux
british plug, holy mackerel
xanman, cole myer, yung grady
yeah, we up in the dmv
put my d+ck in that b+tch like a dvd
broke+ass boy, yeah, you smokin’ on cbd
carry a big ass stick it go b+b+b
been with that sh+t since a kid, i got heaters on me
she suck like a vacuum, a cleaner on me
he say he gon’ pull up, yeah, f+ck it, let’s see
reppin’ this sh+t, yeah, i come from the 540
pull up in foreigns like my dog fivio
told cole turn it up like we talk about audio
hit the b+tch from the back make that b+tch wanna slop me up
i cannot stand hoe, i cannot stand a man
xanman pull up with straps, afghanistan
we finna pull up on him, we be after him
i am just laughing, b+tch

i put my d+ck in her mouth and it aches like a cavity
rookie of the year, yeah, i just wanna accolade
pour up the lean and i mix with the minute maid
since i popped a xanny, i swear i ain’t been the same
i popped an acid so i cannot go to sleep
i dropped her off cause that b+tch don’t mean sh+t to me
she suck my d+ck, little b+tch you can’t kiss on me
we is just history
we just outside chillin’ with mafia, southside, homicide
skrt off the lamb, but don’t stop at the stop sign
i’m selling gas, hit me up for the top line
40+yard dash from the cops at the combine
doing this white and it look like a chalk line
pull up an automatic, it’s a carbine
said that she love me, i told her to calm down
i can do what i want and i know she gon’ come round
i’m not a runner, i sprint to the meet
only time i’m a track star when i eat
zack and cody, i’m a chill on a sweet
gone for a minute, i still bring the heat
you can try me, but i swear you don’t wanna
broke ass lil’ boy ridin’ round in the honda
in the courtroom, shut the f+ck up, your honor
died on the street, rest in peace, that’s the karma
i can go harder, but i do not wanna
this rap sh+t is easy when b+tches cause drama
i’m stacking my bread, saving every d+mn dollar
muhammad ali ridin’ round on a llama
i’m in the tropics, i flew to bahamas
just checked out my bank and i’m looking at commas
your girl is so gross that i think i might vomit
i left that b+tch scarred, yeah, i’m causing your trauma
i’m getting high, we smoke all marijuana
i’m not in a band, but shout out to nirvana
these girls wantin’ me, i’m tryna f+ck a madonna
i only get hot, spittin’ heat like i’m lava

i want a bad little thing whos latina
your d+ck is so little, in spanish, pequeño
i liked a girl, but she moved puerto rico
i got the 40 tucked in my tuxedo
we turnt in the club taking shots of tequila
this girl is so bad and she ride like a cheeta
once i am done she gon’ ask for the visa
lil tecca was right, she gon’ scream like a diva
run around, rip and dip, don’t even skateboard
i f+ck a girl, but i don’t even date, wh0re
burj khalifa, dubai on the 8th floor
i’m blowing up, starting to feel like the trench war
i was a freshman, getting nice with a soph0m+re
if her boyfriend getting mad, then he’s done for
standing ovation when i close for encore
if she gets herpes, i swear it’s a cold sore
i could keep going but i gotta score
i am so greedy, i’m always gon’ want more
chasing the bag, take it right out the front drawer
you is a monster, lil’ b+tch, you a folklore

- cole myer lyrics

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