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quelle chris - natural flavors lyrics

[intro]
now, if you have a blunt or a gun to light
in each and every town
den you no worry ’bout no wacka rappa dj
and the khawaja will hold you down
so, dem now worry way

[verse: cavalier]
back of the neck slapped, save mine
havin’ swag can lead to hate crimes
drugs (drugs)
do them in the daytime
bumps in the road, fed bumps to her nose, facetime
drunk workout, e&j in his earl grey
holdin’ back the earl between the curls with the free weights
home girls don’t wanna give referrals
but will still cross the borough for cheesecake
so, when they come to cast their pearls i’m a cheapskate
but, i’ll c-m splatter pearl necklace, a cheap date
show her p-ssy hair, make the p-ssy purr, perve
keep the rubber for the burn (errk)
clean break, burp, clean plate
they thinkin’: “the nerve of this bougie–ss hoe”
curb your enthusiasm
but what’s occured is repercussive what the world has handed on to a booty flagpole
that’s sh-tty sticks
(real mature, cav)
eat a bag of 50 d-cks, this verse’s supposed to been over
but a cracked open some grade and a fresh roll-up
so i king cobra’d
s-s-s-s

[verse 2: bwameeks]
i keep my p-ssies and the gussies in my dossier
and your posse and a p-ssy’s in my dossier
s-xtin’ is my obsession and [?] flexin’ [?]
tearin’ your b-tt up plus temperature’s textin’
it’s simple, you simps [?] you pesterin’
i’m sick, you lames tend to bring the ‘tussin
do a whole lot of errything but hushin’ up
or making somethin’ work for us [?]
i’m not impressed by none of the messes you pressin’ up on
splattin’ on, sweet press-on nails and dunks on
and the dunk’s worn down and stomped on
i bet her dumps worn down and stomped on
you ain’t gotta go home but you gotta-
hold on
you should get the h-ll outta here and go home
on stage gettin’ my humpty-hump on
instafly the same [?] sherman klump’s on
if they got rules on the pot, i’m not showing
folks be like accusing a spot, then i’m blowin’
pumpin’ with a optimus all over it

[chorus]
that’s diarrhea your b-tch has loosed, the gonorrhea
whoop, whoop, that’s why they feed us
mic fights and riot fever
i like, i don’t need her
i f-cked her, i don’t feed her
grits or couscous, rice and quinnoa
chicken, goose, for aguadilla
[?], i’m flying freedom
l!ck the noose does dire need
tell the truth or lie in fear
let their [?] lie and steal
bathroom bruise and private beaters
losin’ lunch, stupid stunts
who’s supposed to clean this house?
who’s supposed to clean this sh-t up?

[verse 3: cavalier]
you must be buggin’, i’m mad raw
her legs open up, my jim duggan like hacksaw
you must be buggin’, i’m mad raw
her legs open up, my jim duggan like hacksaw
you must be buggin’, i’m mad raw
her legs open up, my jim duggan, duggan, like
you must-, you must be buggin’, i’m mad raw
her legs open up, my jim duggan like hacksaw
you must (you must), you be buggin’, i’m mad raw
her legs open up, my jim duggan like hacksaw
her legs open up, my jim duggan like hacksaw
her legs open up, my jim duggan like ha- (her leg)
her legs open up, my jim duggan like hacksaw
her legs open up, my jim duggan like hacksaw

[outro]
hot n crusty?
that’s qualities of a hoe? i mean, what?
they shoes is always leaning?
you know what i mean? they mad–ss shoes?
you know?
oh, sh-t, we’re over here being stupid

- quelle chris lyrics

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