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paris - christ dillinger & wendigo lyrics

it’s based negative squad you stupid b*tch
[intro * acid souljah]
my personal driver smoke all by himself, can’t pass the blunt for nothin’
we be smokin’ up exotic weed, we roll the fattest nugs
bad b*tch at the crib, and she gunna suck me up
burberry, balenciaga, i be fly as f*ck
moncler jacket on, outside it’s cold like brr brr brr
crushed x pill on the table look like spilled nerds
it’s*it’s*it’s*it’s based negative squad you stupid b*tch

[verse 1 * christ dillinger]
n*gga i’m rich, you’ll never look like this
you broke as f*ck, you’ll never get like this
i broke down the whole 8*ball using my fist
your b*tch watching my story, and you goin’ broke
i got a scale for the weed and a scale for the coke
i don’t really like scammin’, i’d rather sell coke
we got ecstasy, molly pills, xanax, and dope
couple bands what i spent on that new moncler coat
i drop 5k on the p*ssy, i trick on a hoe
hood i grew up in look just like palestine
cocaine in the pot look just like miss madeline
what the f*ck is he doing in p*p*p*p*paris fashion week, you sell p*ssy
you ain’t sellin’ no fashion, you sellin’ p*ssy
80,000 followers, you sold a lot of p*ssy
this an s for supreme, it is not for stussy
unc add a little cocaine when he roll his loosey
b*tch you look like lil yawh, how you actin’ choosey?
triple stack of molly make me sweat profusely
c*c*c*c*c*c*c*cocaine b*tch i cook it good
run the opps over with my truck like i’m suge
no i don’t want no p*ssy just the head is good
cocaine smell like burnt rubber, you know that it’s good
why you said you got money? you know you don’t
said you gunna slap who? you know you won’t
interstellar kush look like lil mo’
s*s*so based negative
we rockin’ balencis, we ain’t wearin’ jordan’s
i walk in the club and go right to the very important
f*ck a different b*tch everyday just like a mormon
spin the block on the opps without givin’ a warnin’
cartier sandals on me i look just like summers
if your boyfriend never got no money your life is a bummer
i f*cked your b*tch in the back of my hummer
this a rental from turo, it’s not even my hummer
she wanna come s*s*s*suck my d*ck, her man is a bum
triple stack of the [e*pill?], put that on my tongue
he bought that [3 pieces of platinum?] i know that he dumb
the glock got the scope and the light, it got every attachment
f*ck that b*tch and cut her off i feel no attachment
fake titties, fake ass, she got every enhancement
old head hit the dope and went off on a tangent
dope flyin’ fast [leer?]
my b*tch got a fat ass, rear
all of my opps, queer
i was cookin’ crack, here
cops check the truck, [chair?]
fly a b*tch out to suck the d*ck on spirit air
put my whole foot in the dope, made ’em shed a tear
it’s based negative squad you stupid b*tch
[verse 2 * acid souljah]
my personal driver smoke all by himself, can’t pass the blunt for nothin’
we be smokin’ up exotic weed, we roll the fattest nugs
bad b*tch at the crib, and she gunna suck me up
burberry, balenciaga, i be fly as f*ck
moncler jacket on, outside it’s cold like brr brr brr
crushed x pill on the table look like spilled nerds
she wanna f*ck with acid souljah ’cause her boyfriend is a loser
we at p*p*paris fashion week, i look like i’m pepe la pew
i’m just like a skunk all this gas in the room
this b*tch at paris fashion week but all she do, is sell p*ssy
step out it’s a photo shoot we live life like a movie
step out it’s a photo shoot because we are important
these balenciaga shoes, i don’t wear air jordan’s
i probably wouldn’t f*ck your b*tch because she likes to snort sh*t
i don’t want a city girl, i need my b*tch to act mormon
plenty b*tches on my d*ck like i was a mormon
i might to out to utah, there’s drugs inside the u*haul
she sucked the d*ck and the b*lls
i’m really ballin’ a lot
i really count up the gwap
i really stack up a lot
based world, bns, yeah we really on top
i’m in p*p*p*paris france eatin’ bagel croissant
look at my outfit, it cost a lot
it came from p*p*p*paris france, yeah we spendin’ gwap
i was finna f*ck yo b*tch but then i peeped her lifestyle, and that b*tch chopped

- christ dillinger wendigo lyrics

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