Bready - Guilted

Independent ladies in their bags
Freak in the beds
Hmmm okay
If you ain’t getting money where the fuck you be
Mean like baby you gotta smell like daisies
Got my hands interlocked
I love you and (Let’s go)
If you ain’t getting money where the fuck you be
I mean like baby you gotta smell like daisies
Got my hands interlocked
That what it’s supposed to be
I love you and you love me
You got those hips
You got those grips
Guilted baby you got those lips
That lock on mine when we’re out of time
Guilted imma keep it in mind
Fantasize imma fantasize
Bout the days we’d close our eyes
On the grass we’d say goodbyes
To our lives and sex whole night
No shame in the game (Bow)
Honey I gave you everything
Like you was cartoons in my childhood
Exclude my emotions from your child moods
Baby you got me lock
Fuck baby you got me lock
I’ll appreciate everything you got
Cause only you got the keys to this heart
It must seem crazy
To open up your heart so easily
It must seem crazy
If you ain’t getting money where the fuck you be
I mean like baby you gotta smell like daisies
Got my hands interlocked
That what it’s supposed to be
I love you and you love me
You got those hips
You got those grips
Guilted baby you got those lips
That lock on mine when we’re out of time
Guilted imma keep it in mind
Tired of being tilted
My emotions so fucked and crushed up
Heart on my dick you still wouldn’t even touch
Dick on some chill? You faster than a bitch
For a Rolls Royce ride and some hotel vibes
Lemme tell you, Baby on the best
For that hotel grind and when strings die
Love her anyway Imma sit on the sidelines
Cause if she got 9 on the waist
She knows how 9 different ways
Ain’t even sorry cause bae know her yays
And na’s bae? You gotta know when to chill
It must seem crazy
To open up your heart so easily
It must seem crazy
If you ain’t getting money where the fuck you be
I mean like baby you gotta smell like daisies
Got my hands interlocked
That what it’s supposed to be
I love you and you love me
You got those hips
You got those grips
Guilted baby you got those lips
That lock on mine when we’re out of time
Guilted imma keep it in mind

Written by:
Christopher Rampersad

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid, Songtrust Ave

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