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celine - quacee lyrics

[verse 1]
why you still callin’ my phone?
don’t you see i’m gettin’ chicken?
why won’t you leave me alone?
is you mad that you not winnin’?
oh lord, please don’t be a victim
run* run down, you gettin’ popped
i just took a* and i’m off of the wock’
that lil’ b*tch so chopped
she still let me beat up her box though
but i won’t beat up the box
i just might spin in a tahoe
i just might spin on the opps
i’m goin’ up and n0body could stop
i’m goin’ up, like some motherf*ckin’ stocks
i got a glock in my motherf*ckin’ sock
so if you try run down, you gettin’ flocked
i gotta go, b*tch, look at the time, b*tch, look at the clock
i’mma f*ck her and her friend in a cullinan
just let me finish countin’, man
i get the guap and i put it in duffle’s, man
then i triple, and double it
then i go with your b*tch to the back of the room
but she suckin’ my d*ck, she not f*ckin’ me

[verse 2]
she want celine, but she not gettin’ sh*t, ’cause she not my girl
baby, c’mere, do a lil’ spin, do a lil’ twirl, i’ll give you them pearls
i told the b*tch how she different
she not like them girls, i’ll give you the world
i asked the b*tch, and she wit’ it
red dot, aim it right there at his fitted
yeah, i bought a new coupe, windows tinted
i’m goin’ up, you know i’m committed
f*ck with me, and sh*t get wicked
i f*cked her once, now that b*tch, she addicted
and yes, little girl, this a gift, b*tch
she on the floor, tryna see what this d*ck did
i would f*ck witchu, but you twisted
now she on me, tryna feel on my d*ck print
[outro]
god d*mn, you a fan
why you playin’?
why you hatin’?
can’t f*ck with haters, yeah, they be some haters
on my money grind, b*tch, i’m gettin’ paper
on my money grind, b*tch, i’m gettin’* b*tch, i’m gettin’ paper

- quacee lyrics

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