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got her thirsty (war chief) - future lyrics

[intro]
808 mafia

[chorus]
soon as you pop out, pop out, they gon’ clone you
kickin’ in louis v, they call me royal
pretty ass feet, tell me where that [?]
[?] and taggin’ toes, coppin’ rollies
patek got her thirsty
money got her thirsty
bands got her thirsty
cartier got her thirsty
i got [?] my style
i got a bad b*tch rollin’ my loud
i got them regular [?] from the south
can’t put my shoes, and i hit on the couch

[verse 1]
put [?] and then i went out
i f*cked around on the loco
[?] flying [?]
i done put with molly and [?]
had that plastic wrapped in the duffle
i’m a player, i’m sellin’ like a drug lord
havin’ these b*tches ain’t nothin’, i made her [?]
she comin’ through for pluto whenеver i need it
i’m not the guy committed to you
takin’ my timе when i’m hittin’ on you
pucci’d down in the igloo
goyard, what you into
i walk around, a bag inside of my bag
they wanna count me out ’cause i’m making ’em mad
the last time i did it was 28 cash
coughing good p*ssy when it’s exclusive
exotic rollin’ exotic, feel the blue cheese
[chorus]
soon as you pop out, pop out, they gon’ clone you
kickin’ in louis v, they call me royal
pretty ass feet, tell me where that [?]
[?] and taggin’ toes, coppin’ rollies
patek got her thirsty
money got her thirsty
bands got her thirsty
cartier got her thirsty
i got [?] my style
i got a bad b*tch rollin’ my loud
i got them regular [?] from the south
can’t put my shoes, and i hit on the couch

[bridge]
audemar got her thirsty
i wanna f*ck on her bestie
southside got 32 diamond t**th, look like a war chief
pourin’ tec, and you gotta sip it like it’s coffee
homicide, leave the opps dead in a coffin

[verse 2]
he started, hit that brr on that lil bitty b*tch
i just counted up a brr on that lil bitty b*tch
put a whole d*mn bird on her pretty lil wrist
when we came through and prr, and them n*ggas ain’t gettin’ sh*t
take that lock off my safe
that’s a really big bar
we don’t f*ck with ace of spades
goin’ back, chris [?]
got baguettes to my left, and it’s pathetic
she slobbin’ on my diamonds
she can’t help it
[chorus]
soon as you pop out, pop out, they gon’ clone you
kickin’ in louis v, they call me royal
pretty ass feet, tell me where that [?]
[?] and taggin’ toes, coppin’ rollies
patek got her thirsty
money got her thirsty
bands got her thirsty
cartier got her thirsty
i got [?] my style
i got a bad b*tch rollin’ my loud
i got them regular [?] from the south
can’t put my shoes, and i hit on the couch

[outro]
audemar got her thirsty
i wanna f*ck on her bestie
homicide, leave the opps dead in a coffin
pourin’ tec, and you gotta sip it like it’s coffee
southside got 32 diamond t**th, look like a war chief

- future lyrics

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