trip-swoosh - 2c-b lyrics
sephora groupie hoes posing for the photo’ i’m a real popper, boy you a b+tch hoe’ your hoe bought some tickets for my london show+oh’
wrist up on alaska, my neck look like a snowww+cone’ made a few albums and got rich up off my prooo+tones’ labels tried to sign me for a freestyle off my old phone’ i was eating scr+ps up in my old home’
pourin’ up champagne while i’m countin’ up my peso’ she just want a pic up in the whip for her page though’ i just want a check, let it flip like it’s play+doh’ talkin’ all that tough ’til we meet then he say “hey, bro”
bags up on the floor, that’s dior, not no carry+on’
playing moves just like a mogul, boy i’m bossin’ in a marathon, even tsa askеd, “who the h+ll you starin’ on?”
gold t++th gleamin’ just likе a chandelier glooow+up
custom seats stitched up in the wraith, doin’ dooonuts’ half a million fit, but i still might throoow up’ from all this drip—man, i’m sick, tell ‘em grow up’
walk inside the spot, every wrist goin’ tick+tock
but mine dancing smoother—got my time+piece from a swiss shop‘ private jet smelling like dior mixed with good wockt’
©trip+swoosh
“this song is written and produced solely by “trip+swoosh” and no other artist has contributed to the making or producing of this in any way, shape or form”
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