Testo Plenty Sun - Ice Spice
Testo della canzone Plenty Sun (Ice Spice), tratta dall'album Y2K!
The beat so hard, I don't even wanna say nothin'
Stop playin' with 'em, RIOT
He like, "Bae, you hella fine, but you hella young"
I'm like, "Baby, don't you worry, I'm like 20-somethin'" (grrah)
He like, "Okay, so you pop this, then you good enough"
On my tonguey-tongue (grrah), he put his thumby-thumb (grrah)
He got plenty funds (plenty funds)
We done hit the strip club, he got plenty ones (plenty ones)
We done hit his trap house, he got many guns (many guns)
Brodie took a fake Perc', now he got tummy runs (tummy runs)
I ain't got no fuckin' kids, I got hella sons (grrah)
And you chillin' with a star, not just anyone (grrah)
And you chillin' with a star, like it's plenty sun (grrah)
And I pack the whole zip, I got dirty lungs (grrah)
And I post my fire pics, yeah, the Getty ones (damn)
Ain't got time for them bitches, yeah, them bitches bums (bitches bums)
I ain't got a lotta friends, I'm meticulous (like)
All them damn diamonds on me look ridiculous (grrah)
All them damn diamonds on me look ridiculous (grrah)
All them damn diamonds on me look ridiculous (grrah)
All them damn diamonds on me look ridiculous (grrah)
All them damn diamonds on me look ridiculous (ridiculous, ridiculous)
He like, "Bae, you hella fine, but you hella young"
I'm like, "Baby, don't you worry, I'm like 20-somethin'" (grrah)
He like, "Okay, so you pop this, then you good enough"
On my tonguey-tongue (grrah), he put his thumby-thumb (grrah)
He know I'm too fine to be single, course I got a man (course I got a man)
But you cute, I'll fuck with you, I'll cancel all my plans (all my plans)
Put that shit on, think he fly, he think he Peter Pan (Peter Pan)
How your bitch is mad at me? I thought she ain't need a man (need a man)
So what you tryna do? (Grrah)
Get me food or some bags and designer shoes? (Grrah)
You ain't crackin' 'til you sign this, I got shit to lose (like)
And you munchin' first, nigga, I don't make the rules (huh, make the rules)
And you ask a lotta shit, nigga, this ain't class (huh, this ain't class)
You just gotta know I'm bad with a lotta ass (lotta ass)
You just gotta know I'm paid with a lotta plaques (lotta plaques)
And I always come in first, yeah, I'm never last (never last)
He like, "Bae, you hella fine, but you hella young"
I'm like, "Baby, don't you worry, I'm like 20-somethin'" (grrah)
He like, "Okay, so you pop this, then you good enough"
On my tonguey-tongue (grrah), he put his thumby-thumb (grrah)
And you chillin' with a star like it's plenty sun
Credits
Writer(s): Javier Mercado, Isis Naija Gaston, Ephrem Louis Lopez Jr, Daniel Mohsen Mohammadi
Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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