Wishy - Prada

It's Fuckin' Wishy
Whoa yeah
I count up band
I count up another I do it again
Bad bitch she on her knees
She blessin me sucking my dick with no hands
Rock out wit da choppa like it's a guitar
Like this my jam
Bitch don't test me
XD on me
You know it ain't gone jam
Aye
They think I'm the goat but they know damn well that Wishy the ram
American dad
It's all on my feet cause I'm rocking Stan smiths
Want beef with me I ain't gone kill you imma kill yo fam
I only eat chicken and steak
But you know I really go ham
Run up on me
Ruby gone blam
Bullets hit you body slam
I do not talk to these niggas They talk to the man
My eyes hanging low like I come from Japan
King of the jungle mufasa
You test me you die wit yo proctor
Send em straight to the morgue fuck a doctor
Them bullets gone fly helicopter
My pistol gone kick like it's soccer
From the hood but I move like a mobster
He say he a real he imposter
You know I got dough pasta
I gotta keep cheese like a enchilada
Niggas be broke they don't gotta dollar
I beat the pack out just like a piñata
Yeah Gwop I keep alotta
Get to the money I do what I gotta
And I won't stop till my bitch rocking prada
Prada bitch Bitch rocking Prada
You know I won't stop till my wife rocking Prada

Written by:
Jesus Tejada

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

Lyrics powered by Lyric Find