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migos - dirty stick lyrics
[hook: quavo]
young n-gga hit juugs with that dirty stick
watch me scr-p the pot (skurt!) with that dirty stick
she a bad b-tch, finesse you, now she dirty, b-tch
oh my god, young n-gga i love that dirty stick
dirty sticks, dirty sticks, dirty sticks, dirty sticks
dirty sticks, dirty sticks, dirty sticks, dirty sticks
dirty sticks, dirty sticks, dirty sticks, dirty sticks
dirty sticks, dirty sticks, dirty sticks, dirty sticks
[verse 1: quavo]
young rich n-gga keep a dirty -ss stick
finesse you out the pair with your [?], thats a dirty b-tch
cooking up the pie with that dirty -ss stick
pow, pow, pow, gggraow with the dirty stick
whats that in your cup? man that’s that dirty sh-t. (lean!)
all my goons go crazy they be on that dirty sh-t
ridin’ round the city in a dirt -ss benz
had to cut some n-ggas off, i had some dirty -ss friends
32 dirty birds and they white, look like michael jackson
try me with the f-ck sh-t, then my animals attack ’em
uncle sam, had to tax ’em
warren sapp, quarterback sack ’em
good gas, good cookie, sip the green bay i pack ’em
[hook]
i’m mobbin’, i’m working the pot with them dirty sticks
got bino all up in the pot, whipping up 36
like grady and fred g. sanford i don’t f-ck with no dirty b-tch
i l!ck on the molly and hit that b-tch with that metal stick
longway hefner on a n-gga they calling the boy your majesty
them dirty sticks, them dirty sticks, young n-gga come blast a b-tch
you cuffing your b-tch, i’m cuffing your b-tch
we switch and we smash that sh-t
you talking bout racks, they stuffed in my mcm bag
they next to my dirty stick
don’t f-ck with no rat, no snitch, get found in a ditch
get hot with that dirty stick
we call for them birds, young n-gga with dirty sticks
they same what to happen bird and sh-t
got hit with them dirty, dirty sticks and they were finessed by a b-tch
slim dunkin on layup and sh-t, 3 amigos along with his sh-t
took [?] to serve up a brick, instead of shopping we [?]
[hook]
i be playing with them dirty birds like my name jamaal
pull up, hop out, i valet the jag and kamals’
actavis that is my medicine
no internet but i’m connected to that white girl, kevin federline
takeoff the vegetarian
i gotta have my lettuce and celery
i’m taking them trips to beverly
i’m strapped with dirty artillery
the bando it got a dispensary
lil mama she diggin’ she feeling me
she told me she want to run round the lobby
i gave her a molly and left the club in the ferrari
i’m pouring that dirty, that 40
[hook]
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