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sada baby & skilla baby - fresh lyrics

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[intro: sk!lla baby]
huh?
i get fresh for no reason
i get fresh for no reason
i get—
huh?

[verse 1: sk!lla baby]
i got gold, my sh+t rose
i got hoes, louis clothes
rollie on, that b+tch froze
i got gucci on, i’m at home
throw my louis on, then i’m leavin’
amiri on from next season (huh?)

[chorus: sk!lla baby]
i get fresh (i be clean), for no reason (‘miri jeans)
i get fresh (i be clean), for no reason (new sbs)
i get fresh (i be clean), for no reason (louboutins)
i get fresh (i be clean), for no reason (my feet bleed)
i get fresh (louis tee), for no reason (nеw supreme)
i get frеsh (gucci sneaks), for no reason (boy, you clean, huh?)

[verse 2: sada baby]
i get fresh, nike tech with two hundred on my neck
black tee up out the gas station off a yercocet
i got b+tches in here ass shakin’ ’cause i like to trick
a red bottom book bag, never wear no f+nny pack
b+tch, this a one+of+one, huh, somethin’ like i’m is
ho, you gon’ get one chance, huh, you can’t try again, uh
thousand dollar pants, huh, thumbin’ through my bands, huh
hundred racks for that rollie dancin’ off my hand, huh
fresh for no reason, crispy every evening
roll the windows down, up the drac’, escalade sleeves
hit the road, i put scripts in her p+ssy and her cleavage
you can’t score sh+t on my side, skuba lookin’ like darrelle revis
i send a n+gga to h+ll easy, shoot this f&n, he ain’t breathin’
i ain’t cappin’, i got lil’ cap, he sittin’ outside with a desert eagle
born in ’92, but i got nine+four, out here actin’ evil
on the eastside with my people, i might get dougie off evisus, a+duh
[chorus: sk!lla baby]
i get fresh (i be clean), for no reason (‘miri jeans)
i get fresh (i be clean), for no reason (new sbs)
i get fresh (i be clean), for no reason (louboutins)
i get fresh (i be clean), for no reason (my feet bleed)
i get fresh (louis tee), for no reason (new supreme)
i get fresh (gucci sneaks), for no reason (boy, you clean, huh?)

[verse 3: sk!lla baby]
i wake up, put my clothes on just to get some ‘bows gone
got my prada joggin’ fit on just to take my hoes home
my new b+tch say she like flowers, so i bought her rose gold
i can get fresher than my opps in my old clothes
i walk in the louis store like, “i need the one+of+ones”
i hope an opp walk in the studio, stomp him in my air force 1s
i’ll put on all dior for the days i used to be poor
prada shades on for fashion, they don’t even help me see more
louis v my whole ‘fit, i got on a rose kit
five+hundred+gram cuban thang, bro look like a whole brick
twenty bands in my pants, i look like a whole l!ck
buffs look like some cocaine, i look like i sold it
they like, “sk!lla, you got on amiri,” i be like, “no sh+t”
if you ain’t fresh, then start leavin’
i be fresh for no reason (huh?)

[chorus: sk!lla baby]
i get fresh (i be clean), for no reason (‘miri jeans)
i get fresh (i be clean), for no reason (new sbs)
i get fresh (i be clean), for no reason (louboutins)
i get fresh (i be clean), for no reason (my feet bleed)
i get fresh (louis tee), for no reason (new supreme)
i get fresh (gucci sneaks), for no reason (boy, you clean, huh?)



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