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fleetwood x ducati james - hunnit$ lyrics

yuh
hold up
ay

big face, blue face hunnits
(x4)
whole lotta money
that’s a whole lotta money whole lotta money
(x2)
big face, blue face hunnits
(x4)
whole lotta money
that’s a whole lotta money whole lotta money
(x2)

[shawty red]
big face, blue face hunnits
og kush, that’s chronic
b-tch name wendy wanna go out to eat
crazy thing, i took the stupid b-tch to sonic
young n-gg- servin’ them junkies
do anything to get that money
from monday through sunday
my n-gg-s they b-mpin’ they pumpin’
everybody countin’ hunnits
i don’t trap i collect a lot of money
real rap, trill sh-t, yall n-gg-s phony
i’m on top now you wanna be my homie?
no flex b-tch you know i keep it on me
old school, new school hunnit$
the f-ck you mean you don’t wanna get money?
remix the gas for the schwag for n-gg-s with short cash
trash can in the trunk, scale on me
started on with nothing i was hungry
got jammed up i was lonely
kickin’ n-gg-s doors 40 on me
steppin’ on you n-gg-s like tony
f-ck the waffle house i’m tryna pull up at the shoney’s
big face, blue face hunnit$
everybody gettin’ to the money
24/7 straight stuntin
small head ogs call it old hunnit$
pull up at the trap, go on shake some
young n-gg-s on go, they goin’ take some
pistol in ya face, imma break some
shoot ya in ya sh-t tryna take some
it’s gbg b-tch yea you know that
keep a box full of swishers imma roll the sack
gettin’ to the money, ain’t no goin back
you ain’t talking to a real n-gg- you ain’t talking racks

[fleetwood]
i trap yams, i trap bags of b-tch that’s all i know
i don’t smoke midget, blunts of kush is all i roll
i got yellow tuss, blue faces and some redbones
russell westbrook, i keep thunder in my styrofoam
i get to money
versace bags, full of racks
i get them hunnit$
stack, stack, stack it up for the summer that’s cold cash
a lot of mothaf-ckas tryna test me
i swear to god i’ll rip ya in the chest piece
i like a chick with a real thick booty
long hair, don’t care, skin light like vanilla
if you owe me, you better show me something
b-tch you better have my skrilla
baby, i see you lookin’
come look a little closer
watch your caboose go up and down just like a rollercoaster
i know i’m in a push to start but i’m not an xbox so don’t f-ckin’ try to play me!
top notch thot wanna drop top drop down and give me top
in the back of a droptop mercedes!

[ducati james]
godd-mn
she glittered in gold
new hunnit, blue hunnit blood on the floor
bands i be breakin’ em making it snow
white like ben franklin all in her whoa!
i just hit the target, bought myself a lawyer
polo shirt and penny loafers i’m so college
feelin’ f-cking godly, oh my god
a hunnit pound, a hunnit pill
got me fallin’ out the foreign
someone please record this!
i might just be important
she might just be imported
and you cannot afford it
so i pay for the flight, put your b-tch in the air
put her clothes on the ground, put you way over there!
get caught in the glare, buyer beware
she poppin’ like flare and i think i’m ric flair
we wrestle one night…
now ya b-tch need repair!
blue faces around me i’m sick as ole yeller
blue faces around me just like gargamel
diamonds under my southern proper
sit sideways, i’m like don dada
hunnits all in my ferragamo
magnums all in my front pocket
i’m lock poppin’, burglurizing your home and takin’ your b-tch
she pop lock and drop it down to her knees and pray for that d-ck

- fleetwood x ducati james lyrics

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