lil bodyfat - got so much cheese call me chirag gupta كلمات الأغنية
[intro]
stop! good god, man
stop! you almost got the cheese touch
stop! good god, man
stop! you almost got the cheese touch
omni, what the f_ck?
[verse 1: lil kirby]
got this cheese on my d_ck
she l!ck it off, nasty b_tch
i got sperm on my wrist
open wide, i gotta p_ss
cookin’ up beans in the kitchen, ay
peter’s on duty, we do it submissive
lil kirby so fluffy, i got a small chick
five on his head, no abraham lincoln
yo granny, she want all this clout
i gotta p_ss, b_tch open your mouth
why erratic b_tches so motherf_ckin’ loud?
fattest f_cks in the west, not from the south
i squeeze on my nuts like some lemonade
i’ve been beating my d_ck for like seven days
i got my swag on, no flavor flav
when bill cosby is free, i’mma yell “hooray!”
[verse 2 _ bigd_cksumo]
get up yo b_tch and she suck on my nuts
i got two shots and i’m ready to bust
r.i.p. gupta, he was from a book
can’t f_ck a tranny ’cause i got the cheese touch
i got a gun and i’m going to school
do the nae nae then i drown in a pool
f_ck that b_tch mol$, he’s a motherf_ckin’ tool
won’t f_ck your mom ’cause she look like a ghoul
i’m covered in drip from my head to my toe
f_ck you, b_tch, i ain’t playin’ no show
she ask for my number and i tell that b_tch no
i would go and f_ck her, but she only four
all them g_y n_ggas thinkin’ i’ll suck a d_ck
if they try to suck mine then i’m rippin’ a clip
pull down my pants but i take a fat sh_t
got my d_ck in a box, call me saint nick
[verse 3: mol$]
stop, good god, man, almost got the cheese touch
whip in the whip, lil mik touchin’ deez nuts
stick, rippin’ dip with my cl!ck and your b_tch spins
i can hide long as the eye can see, bruh
never trust a b_tch, never have my own sh_t
on god, never lackin’ on some real trap sh_t
like i’m sh_t or i’m sick or i’m grabbin’ on her tits
swear i’m dope, and your kid’s gonna help me make me rich
on jahseh onfroy though
spotlight, moonlight, come and treat a b_tch right
disregard a b_tch, like an empty bag of chips
got me trippin’ on some sh_t, shoot a kid with a glock
tick tock, on your back, counting racks once again
cannot rhyme, count to ten, eat a lime, shoot a hen
[outro]
i think i_ i think i’m gonna stop right there because, like, i don’t want the cheese touch, yuh, b_tch!
stop! good god, man
stop! you almost got the cheese touch
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