Bomb Bae!

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Lyrics

Look at my gold, check, necklace, check
 Tatted bitch talkin' real reckless, yes
 Everything I do epic, blessed
 No UPS and you'll get the message
 Everybody talkin' bout bezels (Bezels)
 Everybody drip just drizzle (Drizzle)
 Bitch, go to work, you can't clock me
 Clock in 'cause you're on the schedule (Yeah)
 If they go crazy, then I'ma Goku (Uh-huh)
 Bitch glowed up like Goku (Goku)
 Daddy's all meat and no tofu (Tofu)
 Boss gon' detox, he likes them Whole Foods
 Stash diamonds in that Payless (Payless)
 'Tween your Reeboks and nice shoes (Nice shoes)
 Now I re-up on the bullshit (Bullshit)
 Sendin' them home like a curfew (Oh)
 I'm with Mrs. Smith and that Smith & Wesson (Woah)
 Bitch, I'm the answer, you out the question
 Heat up the scene and they steady pressin'
 I'm on the green like my salad dressing
 Dry ice, the diamonds on freeze (Freeze)
 When he make me come, I'ma cream on the cheese (Uh)
 You can be rich, but you cannot get these
 I'm one-on-one like this shit on my feet, ooh
 Just give me rum like Bombay
 And he gon' eat it up (Eat it up)
 'cause he know it's gourmet (Gourmet)
 I'm up in that bitch head, séance
 But you know I want bread, bae, I need it homemade (Homemade)
 Quit the retail, not done braggin', so (No)
 I'll get 'em higher than crack rock
 If he give me lip, I'ma crack jaw
 I cannot play with that nigga, not at all (At all)
 At they neck with a hacksaw
 Ted Bundy on these hoes
 Servin' these flows for C-notes
 I'm in my undies, but money get dressed and it re-post
 Eatin' yummy à la mode (Mode)
 Eatin' bums, I'm in beast mode (Yah)
 You know what the fuck goin' on (Goin' on)
 Find out when you decode the G code
 Your baby daddy crazy, I think that nigga in love
 I'm a big mama, still don't give a mother fuck
 And I might get some head
 Depend if we drink all this liquor then hiccup
 Hoes be smilin', I can't trust her
 She wanna know if I'm fuckin' her nigga
 Don't talk crazy, I'ma be inchin' up
 Like ridin' a boa constrictor
 These hoes can't rap, I know she suck
 I could eat his good spitter, so hit her
 Just give me rum like Bombay
 And he gon' eat it up (Eat it up)
 'cause he know it's gourmet (Gourmet)
 I'm up in that bitch head, séance
 But you know I want bread, bae, I need it homemade (Homemade)

Audio Features

Song Details

Duration
02:05
Key
1
Tempo
77 BPM

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