Divine the Chef - V V Stressed

The devil wear Prada, I put my bitch in Vi Vi Westwood
I gave her my all the bitch don't want to see me be good

I got a lotta
I got a lotta
I got a lotta, stress (Uh)

I got a lotta
I got a lotta
I got a lotta, checks (Uh)

I'm smoking on chem-dawg and I beat the block with my dogs, yeah
I'm fuckin' that bitch and I'm high off the strong and we will not last long, yeah
Only in love for a second, my patience as thin as her thong, yeah
As short as my songs, yeah, 4 grams take me home, yeah

I'm sipping on drank, and I'm kissing on pink, baby bring my bong, yeah
I'm dabbing on wax and I'm spazzing on tracks, lil bitch leave me 'lone, yeah
Fourth down in the pocket, I look to my left, tell Shake go long, yeah
Hit a nigga from Hong Kong (Yeah)
New Glock, Bing bong (Yeah)

Huh- huh (Huh - huh)
For Christmas, I bought me a blower, yeah
I damn near bled out in a soda, yeah
I fucked the bitch twice I don't know her, yeah
The bitch is a bopper, a whore
I don't give a fuck about no one (Uh)
I ran it up in a cold one,
I'm trapping outside, he froze up, its below one (Yeah)

The devil wear Prada, I put my bitch in Vi Vi Westwood
I gave her my all the bitch don't want to see me be good

I got a lotta
I got a lotta
I got a lotta, stress (Uh)

I got a lotta
I got a lotta
I got a lotta, checks (Uh)

I'm hugging that fire and I point at his eye and the young nigga will die, uh
(Take him home)
He think that I'm pussy or sum, I'll show you I'm not, Simba sin on my side
I got too much damn pride bitch,
Look in my eyes bitch, sitting sideways with my side bitch
RP 10 my sidekick, yeah
Got a nigga feel like Robin, uh
I throw money at my problems, yeah
(Yeah, yeah)

I got a lotta
I got a lotta
I got a lotta, stress (Uh)

I got a lotta
I got a lotta
I got a lotta, checks (Uh)

She wanna give me
She wanna give me
She wanna give me, neck!

I need a new plug on the Tech (Uh)
This whore getting me vexed (Uh)
Sent the lil bitch to the vet
I boss up, I flex (Uh)
I paid off the refs (Uh)
(I'm cheating on this)

The devil wear Prada, I put my bitch in Vi Vi Westwood
I gave her my all the bitch don't want to see me be good

I got a lotta
I got a lotta
I got a lotta, stress (Uh)

I got a lotta
I got a lotta
I got a lotta, checks (Uh)

Written by:
R. Nelson

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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