The House You Grew Up In Lyrics

The House You Grew Up In - Sandals, Jamaica

Loaded loaded
Was the gun
That ya hun hid
Betcha little booty
If ya shoot me
Get acquittal kid
I think you gonna just a little bit
Sittin wit the fauna in a sauna wanna oven mitt
Ooooh too hot to handle
I booked a stay at sandals
I packed a hundred candles
The summers fun for vandals
Ya ya sisterhood messin up the denim bar
And we got daddy's car
And it's a caddy yar
Gonna bow down
To the lost and found
When ya pants go missin
And ya parents ain't messin around
Oops
I slept through graduation
I left the whole fam waitin
I was the last to walk
I ran a thousand blocks
Pop laughed for more
And that's what life is for
I ain't no boardroom bore
I keep a story score
I wanna die with lore

Written by:
Jordan Brown

Publisher:
Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid

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