lirik lagu john gabbana – thot curse
[intro]
ayy, i wanna hear this sh~t in all the mother f~ckin’ clubs, you know what i’m sayin’?
i wanna see all the bad b~tches just shakin’ they ass to this sh~t, you know what i’m sayin’?
john gabbana
(i ain’t finna tell you how ry got away with this sh~t)
[verse 1]
jump back, hunch back, show you what that pump like
oh, he gotta strap too? this gon’ be a gun fight
this gon’ be a fun night, this here boy that stunt life
f~ck it, i got one life, a p~ssy n~gga get one strike
it ain’t nothing, i know you social media n~ggas bluffing
you the type to hear some bubble wrap popping and get to ducking
call my choppa big bad wolf ’cause that b~tch get to huffin’ puffin’
she can’t sit ’round john gabbana unless that b~tch sucking, sucking
bend over and show somethin’
make a n~gga throw somethin’
play with me, i know somethin’
cl!ck clack, let you hold somethin’
checked the time and it’s 4 somethin’
grab a bottle, n~gga pour somethin’
i’ma d~ck her down ’til i break somethin’
come here baby, let me taste somethin’
[chorus]
see pretty b~tches in the club
but which one gon’ let me f~ck?
in my bl!cky you know i trust
off the remy, i feel like russ
n~gga broke, he a sitting duck
hollows hit like a semi truck
take a b~tch back to the bricks
hit her with the pickle, no rick
couple shots in, i’m lit
throw a lil’ money, we lit
whatever they with, we with
b~tch, let me see you jump on this d~ck
gabbana make the p~ssy drip
d~mn n~gga, you p~ssy whipped
if he play than then that p~ssy k!lled
better shave, i like my p~ssy silk
[verse 2]
ain’t nothing sweet, but i’ma star and my f~cking glock burst
before we start exchanging names, i want some f~cking top first
she wanna swallow all my kids, i call that sh~t the thot thirst
you f~ck her raw then have a kid, i call that sh~t the thot curse
timmy turn on tina
gomez, no selena
credit card fraud, no visa
puerto rican b~tch, my nina
she f~cked in the back of the beamer
after she f~ck, she clean up
n~gga want smoke, let’s link up
n~gga not broke, let’s drink up
i say let’s turn up the party
’bout time to get some sh~t started
i’ma tweak if i pop a molly
i feel like i’m ricky bobby
i like when she call me papi
this ain’t a perc, this an oxy
i’m pimping, not talking scotty
they say i’m goated, i’m godly
don’t wanna f~ck, b~tch, hit the door
matter fact, b~tch, just give me throat
yeah i got money, but i want more
try to rob me, get a tag on yo’ toe
nut in my b~tch, i’m like oh
diamonds be hitting, like woah
know i gotta walk with that stick, like patrol
don’t make me take ya’ soul
[chorus]
see pretty b~tches in the club
but which one gon’ let me f~ck?
in my bl!cky you know i trust
off the remy, i feel like russ
n~gga broke, he a sitting duck
hollows hit like a semi truck
take a b~tch back to the bricks
hit her with the pickle, no rick
couple shots in, i’m lit
throw a lil’ money, we lit
whatever they with, we with
b~tch, let me see you jump on this d~ck
gabbana make the p~ssy drip
d~mn n~gga, you p~ssy whipped
if he play than then that p~ssy k!lled
better shave, i like my p~ssy silk
[outro]
john gabbana, n~gga
this the mother f~ckin’ thot curse
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