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high times part 2 #theweeknd - teyo kartel lyrics

…..
don made it
(teyo kartel)
i be cool as a breeze, steady getting the cheese
ya b*tch all in my pocket, she got her hands in my jeans
i be higher then jesus, f*ck that hoe for no reason, i be high for no reason, this part 2 for no reason, but i still did it, i did it
yeah we riding around bumping that weeknd, bumping that weeknd
i f*ck ya b*tch til she drove off that deep end
she suck the d*ck and swallowed all my s*m*n (skeet, skeet)
i go hard up in this b*tch like cement (beep, beep)
duck a b*tch and then f*ck a b*tch, don’t love a b*tch can’t trust a b*tch. i’m high hoe, hi hoe, bye hoe
k!ll a n*gga that second round, likе b*rabbit did lotto
b*tch you know my motto, it’s up. we up
kirko bang music, yeah i got that drank up in my cup
cierra and fiеld mob, i got them b*tches like so what, baby get that money time to re*up, promethazine in my cup i’m draped up
dripped out, f*cking hoes in the parking lot, f*ck yo parking spot
freaking you like jodeci, country sh*t like jody b, eat that p*ssy like jody, b*tch you know me
we riding around bumping that weeknd, f*ck ya b*tch to that weeknd. she wanna play them wicked games, on a thursday
i can tell i’m what she need, by the the way her curves shaped
she comin down to d.d. outside, initiate
it’s the same old song in the winter or the fall. valerie want lil t to get dead in them drawers
in houston or las vegas, i mean heaven or las vegas
i be gone like the birds part 1 (brrr)
i be gone like the birds part 2 ( yea)
i’m in my zone, i’m the life of the party. but i’m feeling like a lonely star and they knowing (knowing)
twenty eight make a p*ssy n*gga show it (show it)
coming down like i’m from h town, this that loft music
i’m at the party and the after party, and after it started, aye
i was full of bacardi until the morning, came up, til dawn
yea, yea, yea. she poured some sh*t up in my cup, next thing i know i woke up in a house full of balloons, certified goon, sweep a p*ssy n*gga up just like a broom. i’m the host, make a b*tch choke, know some n*ggas loc. who’s next? try not to flex, ya b*tch wanna have s*x, she about to text. i ain’t tell, she wanna fly to the city of montreal
i bet my pockets doing sit ups, bet they looking swell
she got a head on her shoulders, that b*tch do me well
don’t tell, bet quiet
and i’ll be back tomorrow
sorry!

- teyo kartel lyrics

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