Testo Sucker - Belly
Testo della canzone Sucker (Belly), tratta dall'album See You Next Wednesday
Woah (Woah), woah (Woah)
Woah (Woah), woah (Ayy)
Woah, woah
Yeah
Yeah, I wake up every mornin' (Every mornin')
Count money (Ooh), twenties, fifties, hundreds (Yeah)
Only thing I'm cuffin' snow bunny
Nose runnin' like she comin' down with somethin'
So broke, I almost cried until I
Started choppin' onions (Just numbin')
It's ironic 'cause I felt it all comin' (Woo)
Then I blew the money, blew money, all hundreds (Yeah)
Standin' on the shoulders of giants, Paul Bunyan
Moved to Cali, I been baggin' all the bitches down in Runyon
If we talkin' real estate, I own the real estate (I do)
Bein' real 'cause we can't tell who bein' real or fake (We can't)
I mean, half a mill' is great, I sold that deal in weight (Yeah)
Now all my bitches tens, body like a figure eight (Wait)
Lollipop, lollipop, save it for a different sucker
She gon' hit the powder room for a quicker picker upper
I don't love her, I don't judge her, I ain't thinkin' nothin' of her
She gon' mix it 'til she lose her appetite and miss the supper
Five-five my kinda freak, lil' mama's got the drop top
Parked out front, that's a come up
When she ride by, beep-beep, she such a stunner
Like a drive-by, brrt-brrt, kill 'em every summer
She the front runner (Yeah), I know I never love her (Woo)
But if she want somethin', I'ma buy it every color
She got good - (Yeah), more like rotunda
In the Bay smokin' green, but my wrist frozen tundra, woo
Talkin' strippers (Strippers), I don't gotta tip 'em (Tip 'em)
My liver mad at me 'cause I been drinkin' too much liquor
Let me paint the picture (Woo), we ain't -in' with you (No)
Whole squad dressed all black like the reaper
Lollipop, lollipop, save it for a different sucker
She gon' hit the powder room for a quicker picker upper
I don't love her, I don't judge her, I ain't thinkin' nothin' of her
She gon' mix it 'til she lose her appetite and miss the supper
Lollipop, lollipop, save it for a different sucker
She gon' hit the powder room for a quicker picker upper
I don't love her, I don't judge her, I ain't thinkin' nothin' of her
She gon' mix it 'til she lose her appetite and miss the supper
Credits
Writer(s): Joseph Jonas, Homer Steinweiss, Louis Bell, Adam King Feeney, Paul Kevin Ii Jonas, Ryan B. Tedder, Nicholas Jerry Jonas, Mustafa Ahmed, Miles Ale
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