a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

jay gudda - the point lyrics

[intro]

[break 1: jay gudda]
right off the rippy i need some tippy top
just give me three mississippi, i’ll get the city hot
the bigger the sucker, the bigger sh_t he pop
and i’m still at your b_tch’s crib for a pity stop
your man crush bragging about how lit he got
and that’s not a selfie, b_tch that’s a titty shot
miss piggy, i’m loving the way you diddy bop
you get the point

[verse 1: jay gudda]
margaritas at margaritas, the tacos coming
don’t even l!ck on my d_ck if you ain’t gone swallow nuttin’
you make me sick, the sh_t you do for a follow b_tton
that’s a hollow stomach… i don’t know how you stomach
i still pay for decisions made in 2009
the system hopes i decline, susan says i’ll be fine
i’d rather waste energy than my time
p_ssy, you still pretend to be on your grind

[break 2: jay gudda]
smoke like a hippy, sipping my sippy cup
b_tch i just need a quickie, get me my pick_me_up
d_ck in my belt, keeping my stiffy tucked
i still get a rush off the work, i’m never busy enough
i’ll know that it’s love whenever it isn’t l_st
i’ve watched how you’ve played your cards when i didn’t bluff
i listened up, the goose, i ain’t no sitting duck
you get the point
[verse 2: jay gudda]
bozo want seconds on who i boink
my diss records don’t disappoint
five nine, dreaming about a royce
i ain’t even seen this sh_t as a choice
all your friends are just people that you exploit
your whole squad’s looking r_t_rded when you rejoice
b_tch, i keep offensiveness in my voice
you offended or annoyed… p_ssy that i avoid

[break 3: jay gudda]
if i’m feelin’ iffy, i’m dippin’ jiffy fast
b_tch got a whole lot of secrets inside that vicky bag
no blood, no foul, you getting ticky tack
can’t even bark at you kitty cats, you wicky wack
my d_ck in your mouth, who you getting lippy at
anyway, hit me back, just to chat
truly yours, don’t even ask where i’m really at
steve nash, you get the point

[verse 3: jay gudda]
too many birds in the coupe, i had to get em’ gone
b_tch i might’ve played nice, but i was never fond
if she ever played jay, that was a clever jawn
but i find satisfaction proving oppressors wrong
i’m most comfortable when the pressure’s on
anxious to be at home, get my depression on
they ask why me and these rappers ain’t on a f_ckin’ song
or if we don’t get along… the answer, you get the point

- jay gudda lyrics

كلمات أغنية عشوائية

اهم الاغاني لهذا الاسبوع