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jay browne - friends lyrics

[verse 1: 7sinclair]
word around they miss me (“santiago purp”)
i ain’t never did no whitney
jay said “come up with me”
he gon’ make me spend a couple hunnids and fifties
tell that hoe “please don’t tempt me”
i’m just tryna get me a bentley
b+tch say “heaven sent me”
feel like demons been trying to get me
but i won’t let them go and sit in
you ain’t f+cking with me but you gon’ listen
you ain’t never had these, you ain’t gon’ get them
and i’m smoking on trees ’till my lungs give in
how ’bout you wanna tеll me one through ten
and don’t еver tell a hoe “she don’t want+” again
i’ma keep going ’till there ain’t no pain
and i’m sorry for committing all 7 sins

[chorus: 7sinclair]
i’ma re+up again
gold plate, light my t++th up again
i ain’t never had no reason to bend
i done made a couple songs, now i got all these friends
i’ma re+up again
gold plate, light my t++th up again
i ain’t never had no reason to bend
i done made a couple songs, now i got all these friends
[verse 2: jay browne]
mammita, mammita, banana clip speaking, a word for shaquita
yeah it’s jay browne still coming out the speaker
music blowing loud like you ’round like the reefer
playing games with ya ex then i gotta skate
coming from the bay but i’m going mia
n+gga on the bench press, sorry for the weight
feeling like i’m kevin how i’m bussing out the gates
her man long distance and ever since, we’ve been getting closer
wet on the table, we might need a coaster
top gyal over, ’bout to mix mimosas (splash)
birds on the wing, got ’em like sefolosha (brrp)
take a nickle back, i don’t need it, got alot of bands (naw)
she in the club two+stepping, don’t know how to dance
brought my whole squad, no problem, you ain’t got a change (uh+huh)
got ’em at the local amscot checking out advance (facts)
baddest in the room on the worst behavior
champagne for the pain, the perfect flavor
know you from the grip, got a catch, better spread ’em
all up in her jeans cause my baby better than ’em
we hit the lotto from scratch (yeah)
this version hit more and that’s just the facts
wind up ya bump up then arch up ya back
wake up in tampa then run that sh+t back (back, back, back)

- jay browne lyrics

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