lirik lagu n7 & pwap - big west
glizzy whachu cookin up?
oo, hol up, hol on, hol up
oo, oo, oo, oo!
petty, etty, etty, wap!
big west, oh god, petty wap, on god!
woah, woah, woah
i jumped off the porch and went dummy for dollars
i’m f~cking yo daughter she l!ckin’ she swallow
you n~ggas be needin you asking you borrow
i pop me two beans won’t sleep til’ tomorrow (on god!)
the biggest pwap from the wicked i come from the trenches for 600 b~tches
ran out to riches ain’t leavin’ no witness never leave my gang no do penny pinchin’ (on god!)
(n7) boy you just talkin’ you don’t got no paper to flex with, oo, oo, oo, oo!
i don’t f~ck with n~ggas is choppa rented
be pints of that liqqa from texas! (oo!)
i ball like the (peasants?) i ball just like memphis
i’m getting my lessons bout’ trippin i walk in this b~tch like i’m trippin’
b~tch she read bout’ my b~tches we ain’t watching netflix! (oo, oo, oo, oo!)
n7 say oo, pwap say on god!
straight out the can, lil’ b~tch i’ma dog!
my n~ggas is house, ain’t nowhere to hide!
dat’ n~gga a b~tch i can see it in his eyes!
he say he want smoke, send that boy to god
my b~tch is bad and boujee do fraud
my b~tch is bad and boujee got bucks, never leave my gang who f~ckin’ with us!
(n7) these n~ggas my kid, boy i ain’t cappin they look like my replicas, oo, oo, oo, oo!
you better get on yo sh~t, lil n~gga cuh we finna turn up the temperature
these n~ggas p~ssy like panties hop out with the d~ck in my ethikas
i’m getting my lessons bout’ trippin so i think that my life is irregular, oooo, oo, oo, oo, oo!
(pwap) and i’m thankin’ god, that’ll i’ll live different
it’s rip nipsey he really was crippin’!
pwap from the wicked smoke dope i get lifted, mo smoke can’t see cuz god is my witness!
i don’t love no b~tches i just need some pictures they sounding like ‘brrr!’ a flash in my kitchen!
all my n~ggas wit it we wackin the witness be yeekin my b~tches my money my princess!
(n7) big west, big west, i just left the jets wit a big cheque!
(pwap) big back, no flex top paint the b~tch like a motherf~ckin’ silhouette!
(n7) ay! diamonds baguettis!
beans for her belly!
chillin’ that tellys
that get her coochie wet!
slaughter no uber they don’t know the shooter
bust out your medulla my n~ggas they into that!
yuh, oo, oo, oo, oo!
y’all ready know what the f~ck goin’ on! (laughs) on god! hol on, hol on
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