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paxquiao – a.r.a.b. lyrics

[verse 1: paxquiao]
old ratchet -ss b-tch ridin’ ’round with a forty in her purse
ridin’ top down on the vert
she gon’ hold it down, she at work
in the club with the fire under her skirt
you know i love that
i’ma pick up the phone and shawty pull up where the club at
she can make it clap and keep a strap and she gon’ bust that
she down, yes, she sit at the house and she hold down them pounds, yes
and that shit get wet wet, make a n-gg- drown, yes

[verse 2: tokyo vanity]
pray to god that i never let a lame n-gg- f-ck me and duck me
’cause i’ma send them shots where his dome be
probably give some play to his homie
ain’t never sucked no d-ck but i let a n-gg- dome me (you dig?)
this -ss real fat, sit on my pack and my purse
i got my forty and this scale and this pack
and we all in the club, b-tch, i smuggled in them straps
and i came with twelve n-gg-s and they’re screamin’ out, “slatt”

[verse 3: paxquiao]
ayy, young n-gg- ridin’ ’round with lot of blue hundreds
blue cheese, forty on me, dare a n-gg- do somethin’
shawty love me but she don’t trust me
all this money that i’m throwin’ make ’em wanna f-ck me
i ball like rugby
southside shit, got these n-gg-s scared ’cause my side shot
hangin’ out the window with that fire shit
gang bangin’, twisted fingers all up in they face
chain swinging, i ain’t thinkin’ ’bout how much i spent today

[verse 4: tokyo vanity]
have my money when i land, b-tch, i ain’t here for all that talkin’
got busy in the beamer, if you fidget then he chalk you
gettin’, big, dawg, should’ve never barked
keep a pint of that red, my n-gg- lenny call it clarky
my daddy smoke that white, b-tch, we call it kelly clarkson
i heard you on that lizzy, you a j, b-tch, get to walkin’
old b-m -ss n-gg-
i finesse you out them racks, old dumb -ss n-gg-
cheddar bob ho, why you got that gun -ss n-gg-
you ain’t even in no smoke, got ’em for fun -ss n-gg-

[verse 5: paxquiao]
i’m just a ratchet -ss n-gg-, love that hood shit
i make her go brazy, say she hate me, give her good d-ck
freak ho, shoot a n-gg- -ss like a freak, though
no you cannot have my kids, b-tch, but i can nut up on them cheeks, though

[verse 6: tokyo vanity]
i never been the type to compete with no b-tch
while y’all was gettin’ flips, b-tch, i had dreams of gettin’ rich
ain’t goin’ back and forth with no b-tch that’s switchin’ fits
who you with? you an opp, b-tch, our hoes be cl-t to cl-t
pray to god that i never let a lame n-gg- f-ck me
you a dusty, don’t touch me
talkin’ all that cap, i’ma have to call your bluff, b
finesse you out that guap but you still can’t f-ck me

[outro: paxquiao & tokyo vanity]
on piru (b-tch)
he trippin’
i told him, “do not f-ck a cheap ho, you hear me?”
these b-tches mad, slatt

- paxquiao lyrics

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