Paroles de 'I Think I Love Her (feat. Lil Wayne / Tyga)' par Shanell

Ha, pikaboo b-tch
Swag scare your kids
My airplane clothes flyer than your best this year
Gorillas in the mist, pull back pump they fist
I'm from the planet of the apes, king kong clips
Slince lambs b-tch
Run through your land trippin
Can't pretend when this is real as it gets can ya
If sh-t hits the fan, I ron artest n-ggas
This how I'm living getting tatted in some house slippers
I like my b-tches simple, laid back, relax it's mental

Sh-t you know what I do
Tell me what you tryna get into
The man cars rented
The man car killing
Gossiping f-ck the car look at the man in it
Ha boys to man business
We don't hire b-tches
Just fire b-tches
It's young money fire spitters
The... Is with us
And they aint ate they dinner

Beginners feast, feet lying fatality finish
I'm killin these records they put me again
I really don't giv a f-f-uck if you witness
You hear it, listen, buy it, steal it
I still gon get my f-cking percentage
I cuss a lot cuz b-tch I'm seers
Young no beard, get soup
Like gumbo with shrimp
Flyer than dumbo ears is, b-tch

Uhh, now let me start by sayin
I don't like this beat
But imma weather the storm imma lightening streak
Uhh, weezy f baby, I do it big weigh me
Them crazy freaky b-tches try to cirque du soliel me
Got some new b-tches, trail got me laughing
The one that gave me head can suck the nail out a casket
Shot gun on the kitchen table

The shells in the cabinet
F-cking with me is like stepping on the tail of a dragon
Where pussy is my cabin
More b-thces than a pageant
I keep a house full n-gga call me bob sagat
Spending time backwards
Hotter than a cactus
And we aint in the building we the f-cking contractors

Y ym, why muthaf-ck why hate it
Young money down your throat gotta stay hydrated
Quarter bag weezy
Young time brady
Open up your mouth and catch a bomb baby
Hehe good morning dude
Eagle street car in tune
Long joe, no short bread, no lorna doon
I'm warning you

We on the move
Bunch of female dogs and garden tools
That's b-tches and hoes
Hospital full, sick of my flow
Hip hop was washed up so I bought
Some change to finish my load
I load millions and more millions
Money to the ceiling
N-gga no ceiling!

Step up in this b-tch 5 o clock in the morning
The world is waking up you can hear the pigeons yawning
Imma get that worm now
Tell em it's my turn now
Yo n-ggas need a lesson on some ethic you gon learn now
I do this for the love of it
Saliva cos I love to spit

And I duke it for my future records
You gon love to spit
Fucking with my bredren 10 years strong
And he put them dreds in silver john long
But he's more like platinum
Hold up heres a napkin
Pick your jaw up off the floor
And tuck your tongue right back in
Tell me where is mack maine
(That's all I have)