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pete & bas - t-pain (remix) lyrics

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[intro]
nineone

[chorus: pete]
i spin fellas, my swing quicker than federer
i serve packets, they bounce back on the regular
and i’ma tell a hussie, “sing for me, t+pain”

[verse 1: t+pain]
(i got it) there’s no bigger, the flow k!ller, fa+sho hitter
a go+getter, the nose fl!cker, for gold diggers

who put that tune on it? who had them tunes goin’?
bеfore your iphone had itunes on it
thе hob goblin got mobbers, robbers, and goons on it
the gobstopper she slobberin’ for a few moments
i lack negligence, the black excellence
the r&b artist that rap better than rap veterans
that’s why your girl holla “sing for me, t+pain”
the deal’s done, the debt’s paid, i settled it, now shut up, b+tch

[verse 2: pete and bas]
smack bang in the face, b+tt of the ruger
chuck him in the back of the lex, i don’t mean luther
turn him into a headstone, call me medusa
then i’ll be sinking a f+cking guinness in the boozer
limoncello the colour upon the panamera
got a tool in the glovvy, i don’t mean black & decker
flippin’ jabbin’ a fella like i’m connor mcgregor
then i’m making him disappear like i’m penn & teller
gripping him up and slamming him down
i still look sl!ck in me tux when i’m having ’em out
i run amok, kiss on the ring, the king of the town
i roll it up, puff of the booj, a can of the stout
get down, l!cking the shots, i’m nicking his watch
i’m hopping out, poppin’ top like jack in the box
i dish ’em out, chopping the rocks and dropping ’em off
and i’ll be running up the digits like i’m top of the pops
birds whistle when i walk like this
best listen when i talk like this
i’m outside on the curb with me tats out
if he’s hard, he can try chalk line this
chain swinging when i walk like this
heads bopping when i talk like this
i’m outside on the curb with the straps out
have a laugh, you ain’t gonna chalk line sh+t
[chorus: pete and bas]
i spin fellas, my swing quicker than federer
i serve packets, they bounce back on the regular
and i’ma tell a hussie, “sing for me, t+pain”
your mumma’s hooked on the packs i been selling her
i cl!ck hammers and bang ’em and let my nuts hang
i fill his head with the lead like a mukbang
the magazine make me lean when i walk
and the drumstick’ll make an head bang like a punk band



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