57 lyrics for "(Fuck With Us, What)"

You don't like players That's what what you say-a But you really wouldn't mind a millionaire But you'd love a rich man six foot two or taller Without girls like you When you walk in the bar And you dressed like a star Rockin' your F me pumps And the men
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What's in this mug? Toasted up, no I ain't hostin' Kush all in my lap because these hoes don't want to roll it I was sliding in the Lamb' with the powerglide (oh) Slime green paint, peanut butter inside (oh) She wanna fuck, speak up Comin' out her
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I'm on that good kush and alcohol I got some down bitches I can call I don't know what what I would do without y'all I'm gon' ball til the day I fall Yeah, long as my bitches love me (yeah, yeah) I can give a fuck 'bout no hater I can give a fuck 'bout no
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Pissin' on my watch, like I got a bad bladder I'm simply fuckin' with shawty because her ass fatter All red Bentley truck, Alpha, Kappa They're checkin' my profile, no pic, I'm still fresher You do the bag That's what what we on? (Murda on the beat, that's
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They know I got cash, I ain't gotta brag no more (woo, woo, woo, what?) I'm playin' with the money, I just might go snatch the boat (I just might go snatch the boat) I run through the check, but fuck fuck it, the bag is close (bag is close) I don't want your
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Can you please bring my bottles to my booth? (Where my bottles?) Me, I know just what what to do to get 'em loose I pull up and my car ain't got no roof (Fuck Fuck with me) All these bitches say that I'm the truth (Fuck Fuck with me) I know just what what to do to get 'em
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