
souljadatap - fanta pineapple lyrics
[intro: souljadatap]
everytime i drink pineapple fanta, i feel great
yeah, yeah, yo, yo, yeah, yeah, yeah
[verse 1: souljadatap]
i’m more physical than germany and switzerland
first to ask the question, answer’s quiet, where the principle?
high+key, feelin’ like i’m pushin’ p
don’t say hi, bye, please
i step, but i’m no curry
fly her out to cali’, swear she fine, you never seen
i’m playing stupid, f+ck it, i’m cruising, better find you an h+o+e
feeling great, you thought i od
[chorus: souljadatap & superaboi]
everytime i drink pineapple fanta, i feel great
everytime i split her on the bed, it makes my day
we’ve been drinking all night long, ’cause i’m bored and it’s ok
the problems are no consequences, ’cause i’m f+cking with the fame
i paid my hooker thousand bills, and we just vibing with these feels, yeah
+clearing throat+
(superaboi, superaboi)
(yo, ay, ay)
[verse 2: superaboi]
feel like al capone, i won’t finish the sentence
columbia, i’m west to brook, that’s why i got this smith & wesson
we pair, like bonnie and clyde
put yo’ sh+t inside your pockets
now i get laid just in l.a
no fireb+lls, i mean no rage
this wrapper sucks, no candy
in wendy’s i got a blue navy shirt with a ticket on it
i got 5 on it, no strike on it
this sh+t like bubblegum, it’s popping
holograms of me demanding truth that i told 2 years ago, like emma stone got stomped
okay, no respect
now they cooking, have payback
show my heart what i do next
eating cherry ’cause it’s s+x
h+llo, you look mellow
i shallow in the dark like rosa parks got locked, full shock
he ain’t safe in a wildfire cave
on my momma, i don’t do crimes
it’s no lie, my demise is like the desire went to state, okay
but sh+t is no pop, ticking clock
although i suck your c+ck
thinking ’bout smoking, okie dokie
coping with my problems
eating blueberry ice cream with a sandwich
and a cracker leverage
they savage, go dumb like a logger, no sapper
“try better writing”, f+ck i ‘posed to do?
like it’s nas, and it’s doom, find a better avenue
dawg, i been completely honest ’bout my life and ’bout my dreams
going to get sons with mental issues
like, it’s my issue
i don’t get tissues
’cause i’m broke, ain’t ate no ho’
and all my woes might be toxic ’cause i’m low
attention wisely, i’ma blow, sh+t like woah
it’s aboi, they like “woah!”
they like woah, yeah, hah
yeah, ay, ay
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