latto – sunday service (acapella) lyrics
[chorus]
i don’t sing r&b but, b+tch, i’m really her, f+ck wrong with n+ggas?
how you let him cheat and take him back? must be your only n+gga (the f+ck?)
i get loud just like my weed, i don’t watch my tone with n+ggas
i hang up the phone on n+ggas (cl!ck)
you ain’t my daddy, b+tch, i’m big mama (b+tch)
every time y’all book me with them hoes, it’s gon’ be big drama (grrah)
twenty black suburbans, we pull up like sunday service (skrrt)
i just want a one on one, don’t know why she so nervous (boop)
f+ck what these hoes sayin’ ’cause my n+gga say i’m perfect (tuh)
[verse 1]
anyway, body count so low, i might say i’m a virgin (ooh)
any day, i could switch my car just like i switch my purses (skrrt)
andale, quick to cut him off if he don’t serve no purpose
you a clown and i’m allergic, n+ggas straight up out the circus (haha)
it’s the nerve for me, these n+ggas burnt, they third degree
he callin’ tryin’ to work it out, i’d rather make him work for me (the f+ck?)
he can’t tell if it’s authentic or it’s surgery, please, lil nas x the only n+gga curvin’ me
[chorus]
i don’t sing r&b but, b+tch, i’m really her, f+ck wrong with n+ggas?
how you let him cheat and take him back? must be your only n+gga (the f+ck?)
i get loud just like my weed, i don’t watch my tone with n+ggas
i hang up the phone on n+ggas (cl!ck)
you ain’t my daddy, b+tch, i’m big mama (b+tch)
every time y’all book me with them hoes, it’s gon’ be big drama (grrah)
twenty black suburbans, we pull up like sunday service (skrrt)
i just want a one on one, don’t know why she so nervous (boop, ha)
f+ck what these hoes sayin’ ’cause my n+gga say i’m perfect (tuh)
[verse 2]
tell the truth, oh, i’m not that cute? bet you won’t ask your boo
he get money, i get money too, like, who gon’ trick on who? (who?)
these b+tches corny, soon as monkey see, then you know monkey do
do you rap or do you tweet? ’cause i can’t tell, get in the booth, b+tch (b+tch)
stop all that motherf+ckin’ yellin’, ho (yellin’, ho, why?)
’cause i ain’t buyin’ what you’re sellin’, ho (sellin’, ho)
think i’m the sh+t? b+tch, i know it, ho
jesus walked on water, i got ice boilin’ though (aha)
miss me with that sucker sh+t, i’m not your baby mama
blocked his ass on everything, he in my dm’s writin’ albums (brr)
better hold your n+gga tight, ‘fore i make you come up off him
say two wrongs don’t make a right, but i’m the type get one up on ’em
[chorus]
i don’t sing r&b but, b+tch, i’m really her, f+ck wrong with n+ggas?
how you let him cheat and take him back? must be your only n+gga (the f+ck?)
i get loud just like my weed, i don’t watch my tone with n+ggas
i hang up the phone on n+ggas (cl!ck)
you ain’t my daddy, b+tch, i’m big mama (b+tch)
every time y’all book me with them hoes, it’s gon’ be big drama (grrah)
twenty black suburbans, we pull up like sunday service (skrrt)
i just want a one on one, don’t know why she so nervous (boop)
f+ck what these hoes sayin’ ’cause my n+gga say i’m perfect (tuh)
[outro]
tuh
twenty black suburbans, we pull up like sunday service
anyway (anyway)
come on
f+ck what these hoes sayin’ ’cause my n+gga say i’m perfect
tuh
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