lirik lagu seventhirtyatmorning - lava
[intro]
aah, aah
sing like that
(yeah, thirty, thirty, thirty, thirty, thirty)
(yeah, yeah, yeah, woah, sh~t, uh)
(thirty, thirty, thirty)
[pre~chorus]
yeah, i get in that bag, it’s tight
i give her a bump, can’t wife
debunking the myth, she easy, i had her touching the walls all night (all night)
a series of bad decisions, one after one, i couldn’t do right (i can’t)
yeah, i spend that cheese ’cause it come right back
cut off the b~tch ’cause i don’t like that (woah)
[chorus]
chrome heart jeans and my cup two racks
f~cking your b~tch, wasn’t hitting on sh~t (nah, nah)
b~tch had me blew so i had to get lifted (yeah)
pop sh~t, baby i fl!ck my wrist (woah)
really ain’t nothing, had to tell that b~tch (woah)
talking ’bout sh~t, hashtag get blitzed (blitzed)
i don’t need a bankroll, pockets on crip (crip)
my bro off the yercs, but he don’t sip (nah)
[verse 2]
ho’, i’m the worst (worst), roll out the curtains (curtains)
hit it from the back so good i might burst
ho’ so peculiar, she need church
if you had a bully, i’d send him to the nurse
feel out the room, i don’t talk to the lurks
she thought i was different than i am, more quirky
laid back, counting up guap off perky
strike her three times, call that a turkey
woah, f~ck on a fefe (woah)
she said it’s how you treat me
i want the p~ssy, don’t want the problems
i don’t even know how the f~ck i’m in college
n~ggas, they solid, i k!ll for my partner
oh, that’s your ho’, godd~mn, i just rocked her
open the case, it smell like the doctor
sippin’ on drank and pour out that lava (lava)
fighting that urge to say, “f~ck it” and call her
we see them n~ggas, we swiss, they impala (woah)
i’m on a money mission, counting up dollars (woah)
i’m on some f~ck a b~tch and get some guala (woah)
you on some other sh~t, i couldn’t call it (no)
i can’t get down with that (no)
i’m in the trap now, what’s crackin’?
i’d rather die than be slacking
can you just get back? tryna stab me (woah)
choppa gon’ hit like a left tackle
i was just counting up in the backroom, i was just counting up in the back (yeah)
off of the perc, xan, see what that do (yeah)
don’t wanna remember none this mess (mess)
i got pain from my stress (stress)
i felt it in my chest (chest)
[chorus]
chrome heart jeans and my cup two racks
f~cking your b~tch, wasn’t hitting on sh~t (no)
b~tch had me blew so i had to get lifted
pop sh~t, baby i fl!ck my wrist
really ain’t nothing, had to tell that b~tch (woah)
talking ’bout sh~t, hashtag get blitzed (blitzed)
i don’t need a bankroll, pockets on crip (crip)
my bro off the yercs, but he don’t sip (woah)
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