CORRECT LYRICS
Lyrics : Poppin’ Grease
Hoes tellin' me I changed, I ain't the same me (Same me)
Leave the club, the baddest b*t*h sayin', "Take me" (Take me)
Finna f**k these n***as up like I'm Tay Keith (Tay Keith)
Makin' n***as go home, n***as Roger lame (Go home, Roger)
n***as hoes, I could tell you got your mama ways (Got your mama way)
I'm a skinny n***a, flex like I'm Luke Cage
Bucks Clan got more blues than the Duke game (Duke game)
Big bags, playin' Madden, f**k a shootin' game
Finna treat this b*t*h face like the shooting range (Shooting range)
b*t*hes f**k the first night, ain't no talkin' stage (Talkin' stage)
You ain't cash out on that foreign, boy, your mama paid (You lyin')
We them n***as, yeah, we known for talkin' reckless (Talkin' reckless)
Yeah, we known for havin' b*t*hes in our section (On my mama)
She from the city, but that ass came from Texas (God damn)
She want my baby, yeah, she ridin' me aggressive (Yeah, aggressive)
I'm that n***a, girl, don't miss out on your blessing (Said don't miss it)
b*t*hes goin' all through my phone, who you textin'? (Who you textin'?)
I just got her whole body done, I'm investin' (I'm investin')
She gave me that weak-ass head, could've kept it (That sh*t trash)
Ayy, suck me through my drawers, got me rock steady (Ayy)
Drippin' off my balls, got my Glock ready (Ayy)
b*t*h ain't got no ass, but she top-heavy (Top-heavy)
Talkin' stupid through my pad like I'm Knott's Berry (Uh)
I don't cop reggie (No), pockets potbelly (What else?)
Made that b*t*h count on me like I'm god-daddy (Pops)
I need tips in my drill, I am not Nelly (No)
Take your n***a take these shots like he diabetic (Ah)
Leave the club, the baddest b*t*h sayin', "Take me" (Take me)
Finna f**k these n***as up like I'm Tay Keith (Tay Keith)
Makin' n***as go home, n***as Roger lame (Go home, Roger)
n***as hoes, I could tell you got your mama ways (Got your mama way)
I'm a skinny n***a, flex like I'm Luke Cage
Bucks Clan got more blues than the Duke game (Duke game)
Big bags, playin' Madden, f**k a shootin' game
Finna treat this b*t*h face like the shooting range (Shooting range)
b*t*hes f**k the first night, ain't no talkin' stage (Talkin' stage)
You ain't cash out on that foreign, boy, your mama paid (You lyin')
We them n***as, yeah, we known for talkin' reckless (Talkin' reckless)
Yeah, we known for havin' b*t*hes in our section (On my mama)
She from the city, but that ass came from Texas (God damn)
She want my baby, yeah, she ridin' me aggressive (Yeah, aggressive)
I'm that n***a, girl, don't miss out on your blessing (Said don't miss it)
b*t*hes goin' all through my phone, who you textin'? (Who you textin'?)
I just got her whole body done, I'm investin' (I'm investin')
She gave me that weak-ass head, could've kept it (That sh*t trash)
Ayy, suck me through my drawers, got me rock steady (Ayy)
Drippin' off my balls, got my Glock ready (Ayy)
b*t*h ain't got no ass, but she top-heavy (Top-heavy)
Talkin' stupid through my pad like I'm Knott's Berry (Uh)
I don't cop reggie (No), pockets potbelly (What else?)
Made that b*t*h count on me like I'm god-daddy (Pops)
I need tips in my drill, I am not Nelly (No)
Take your n***a take these shots like he diabetic (Ah)
