Testo Pastor - Quality Control
Testo della canzone Pastor (Quality Control), tratta dall'album Quality Control: Control The Streets Volume 2
(This beat from Murda)
I don't stick to the script (no)
Real nigga, I punch a nigga in the lip (oh)
Get rich, I'll push a brick outta here (woo)
Fuck nigga, free, what you think this is? (Free)
Bad lil' thing, fuck it up and then peel (bad)
Should I buy her bling or should I leave her how she is? (Bling)
Get that paperwork, I told her sign it like a deal (cash)
Then she pop the woo just to sharpen her skills (woo)
Random (oh), she twerkin' in designer sandals (woo)
Ransom (ransom), I took the mask off to smash (smash)
Santa (Santa), big bag I bless you like a pastor (pastor)
Camera (camera), bitch I feel like Adam Sandler (Sandler)
(Ay) confess, you know you in love with the drip
You know you want me come over and bless you, so let me sit on your lips
(Ay) I know he wanna be mine, he tryna send me a sign
Turn him into a believer, now he be payin' his tithes
I just landed, I ain't pack a bag, I ain't plan shit
Sent him all my info and I told him, "Get it handled"
Crazy, couldn't tame the pussy now he hate me
Hard on them hoes but for me he's a baby (muah)
Woo, I'm having my way with this shit (huh)
I'm on my way to the money (ugh), then on the way to the dick
I don't know what date that it is, I wake up and pick where I live
Eeny miny moe (ay), I get whoever I pick (ah)
Big fine thing, neck and wrist bling
I could make a hood nigga holla like he sing (big ole freak)
Is he my type? Bitch, he might be (bitch, he might be)
I could make a rap nigga holla like he sing
Random (oh), she twerkin' in designer sandals (woo)
Ransom (ransom), I took the mask off to smash (smash)
Santa (Santa), big bag I bless you like a pastor (pastor)
Camera (camera), bitch I feel like Adam Sandler (Sandler)
I got all you can handle
Sit the pussy on this lip
Hah, I'm goin' stamp him
Crawl on his dick, Black Panther
Hit the bank account then travel
Get to the bag, he buy me bags and then I'm Caspar
Lil' bitch, I'm hood, I ain't actin' (nah)
And I'm good, I ain't askin', my hands' good for smackin'
Lil' bitch, stop walking past Chanel, you know they taxin'
Their prices don't go down, they go up, hoe stop askin'
My nigga red flag and I'm jet-laggin'
Big baguettes around his neck and his pants saggin'
Get this lil' bitch out my set, 'cause she keep naggin'
Wait 'til JT get home, lil' bitches, we gon' keep smashin' (bitch)
Wait 'til JT get home, lil' bitches, we gon' keep cashin' (how?)
Diamonds keep flashin', money keep stackin' (yeah)
This dirty hoe can't come too close 'cause I might catch a rash (uh)
And no matter how rich I get, I'm still goin' show my ass, period
Random (oh), she twerkin' in designers sandals (woo)
Ransom (ransom), I took the mask off to smash (smash)
Santa (Santa), big bag, I bless you like a pastor (pastor)
Camera (camera), bitch, I feel like Adam Sandler (Sandler)
Credits
Writer(s): Quavious Keyate Marshall, Shane Lee Lindstrom, Jatavia Johnson, Caresha Brownlee, Megan Jovon Ruth Pete
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
Link
Disclaimer:
i testi sono forniti da Musixmatch.
Per richieste di variazioni o rimozioni è possibile contattare
direttamente Musixmatch nel caso tu sia
un artista o
un publisher.