lirik lagu diamond* (2) - rip follies
[intro]
phew, ayy, phew
ayy, phew, ayy, phew
hey, yeah, phew, it’s diamond~, bling, woo
[chorus]
lil’ bro be trippin’, tryna catch him a body (woo, woo)
my ho too skinny, i buy her a body (woo, ow)
mafia sh~t, b~tch, i move like john gotti (move like john gotti, yeah)
i’m throwin’ ones, screamin’, “r.i.p. follies” (hey, r.i.p. follies)
dripped in balenci, i’m fly as a pilot
he pop his lip then we pop at his noggin (boom)
these b~tches sharks and they f~ck all your partners
my pockets fat, b~tch, i’m not on the dollar
vvs pointers, that sh~t is not glass
these n~ggas broke, i should buy ’em a cast
i don’t f~ck b~tches that do not have class
i like her face, she don’t got no body
i told her it’s nothin’ to buy her a ass
fixin’ the dial, this sh~t made me crash (woah, ø way)
she sucked me soul in the whip while i’m drivin’ (woah, woah, ø way)
losin’ control behind the wheel, i might crash
[verse]
pulled out my chain, went the cold as december (hey)
f~cked her five times and i still never kissed her
back to back maybachs, they filled up with missiles
move with your ho, one shot, feel like a kicker
my b~tch a freak, she be piercin’ her nipples (woah~woah~woah)
ain’t buyin’ bottles but, b~tch, i’m a sipper (woah~woah~woah~woah)
i’m always pimpin’, boy, never a simper
ice in my t~~th and they thought it was dentures (yeah)
i can’t complain, but this life gettin’ better
entourage filled up with trappers and smackers
n~ggas not real, this game filled up with actors (ayy, ayy, wow, wow)
and i’m way too real to just dab up these b~st~rds (woah~woah)
ysl shoes, they came out in ’03 (woo), these b~tches walk like i’m walkin’ in napkins (wow, wow, woo)
diamond~ outside, boy, you better watch your feet
birkin my b~tch and i might double c
purple my cup, boy, i don’t do the green (uh~huh)
ferrari truck, that sh~t come out in spring (woo~woo)
she touched my d~ck then she turned to a fiend (woah, woah, woo)
sippin’ and spendin’ your rent on my jeans
f~ckin’ your b~tch, got her scent on my sheets
white on her clothes, i’m addicted to freaks (yeah)
house on the hills like we built that from greece
i don’t be talkin’, i just say, “capiche” (ayy, ayy, yeah)
[chorus]
lil’ bro be trippin’, tryna catch him a body (woo, woo)
my ho too skinny, i buy her a body (woo, ow)
mafia sh~t, b~tch, i move like john gotti (move like john gotti, yeah)
i’m throwin’ ones, screamin’, “r.i.p. follies” (hey, r.i.p. follies)
dripped in balenci, i’m fly as a pilot
he pop his lip then we pop at his noggin (boom)
these b~tches sharks and they f~ck all your partners
my pockets fat, b~tch, i’m not on the dollar
vvs pointers, that sh~t is not glass
these n~ggas broke, i should buy ’em a cast
i don’t f~ck b~tches that do not have class
i like her face, she don’t got no body
i told her it’s nothin’ to buy her a ass
fixin’ the dial, this sh~t made me crash (woah, ø way)
she sucked me soul in the whip while i’m drivin’ (woah, woah, ø way)
losin’ control behind the wheel, i might crash
[outro]
phew, phew
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