lirik lagu al.divino - my cougar shorty called the uber for me
[intro: al.divino]
ayy
[verse 1: al.divino]
my cougar shorty called the uber for me, open the door, nude for me (ay!)
could of been medusa, conduce a ho just like a woman with her
all broke b~tches just don’t do it for me (chi~ching, chi~ching)
one drunk night i had you lookin’ stupid, amori lordy, my whip (woop)
rockin’ three~quarter figure
mean face, face features gorgeous (mwuah)
cliquot pourin’
like a fountain bottle, we eat h~~rdin’ (blow~blow~blow~blow!)
keep it peace though, havin’ money like euphoria (bing~bing~bing~bing~bing~bing)
freaks foreign
bareley speak english, still sayin’ the same thing like a thеsaurus (i know this sh~t, hah)
won’t be long ’til we tourin’ (woop)
still watchin’ for detеct senators, supreme steep tech
got a .40 in it (blow~blow~blow, blow)
motto of course we winnin’ (come on, man, you already know)
son (you know)
i need like a hundred b~tches (ay!)
i need like a hunnid thou’ (chi~chi~chi~chi~chi~chi~chi~chi~chi~chi~chi~chi~chi~ching!)
in a new york minute (yay)
f~ck it, we up now (we up, woop)
spendin’ money like it’s always gon’ come back (back, man)
[interlude: al.divino & lord jah~monte ogbon]
what up, jah?
let’s get this money, man, you heard?
swimmin’ in it like scrooge mcduck
swoop (you already know, ayy)
[verse 2: lord jah~monte ogbon]
no broke b~tches, my women stay caked up (yeah)
play tuff (ay), ayy
you gon’ get your grave dugged (get yo’ sh~t dugged)
no, we don’t play, blood (nah)
love the ditch, she wan’ a encore (ah)
i can’t, i’m on tour (i’m outta here)
bl!cks like a vietnam war
but you don’t want war, ayy (nah, you don’t want that, my—)
was outside for that revenue, shorts tellin’ you off (ay)
pray for me, duck them federal courts, we never talked
like we don’t got the freedom of speech, watch how you speak, son
my youngan put three in your jeep, ayy (ayy)
the sound of vinyl like the bill of rights
pental fight (what’s up, ma?)
with my young b~tch was born in bread, she the willow type, ayy (that bread)
you can check my background, my sh~t fuelled with stripes (foul)
my b~tch the builder type, think we gon’ chill
i told her, “chill, get light” (get outta here)
my pen game poppin’
i need five bills to write a sixteen (gotta get that bag, my n~gga)
duke, don’t get your whip steamed, p~ssy (don’t get sh~t smoked)
my rich game like whipped cream (hold on)
[outro: lord jah~monte ogbon]
god, ya already know who it is, n~gga (rob~your~plug~dot~com)
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