CORRECT LYRICS

Lyrics : TIMBER LAKE

(Yeah, Yeah, Yeah)
Press one b***on, now the roof gone
These dudes be b*t*hes like Mulan
Gettin' more bread than a crouton
I'm swimming in the pu**y like Dewgong
My b*t*h be hotter than Tucson
Still rich, but I'm f**king on futons
Strap stay with me like it's glued on
Just seen your b*t*h sellin' pu**y on Groupon
I'm fresh to death but I'm wildin'
I tell the b*t*h to be quiet
I keep my cell phone on silent for when the hoes send pics of they privates
Sh*t, we're doin' drugs like it's the 80's
Me and Craka, Crispy like The A-Team
Why your mama wanna have my babies?
'Cause I'm bringing sexy back like J.T. (Woo!)

I'm makin' these hits like I'm Timberlake (woo-ooh)
Private jet straight out to Italy (woo-ooh)
She sucked me up on the interstate (woo-ooh)
Your b*t*h hit me up, man, you gettin' played

I done curved more b*t*hes than a squat rack
Feel like Jeff Gordon, I'm on track
Lost a couple M's, Imma make it right back
She wan' f**k, gotta hit her with a contract
Yeah, she got the thighs like Mewtwo but a face like Drowzee
Imma pa** on that hoe like Rowley
Imma still go and get me that mouth-y
Hit it once, now it got me feeling lowsy
Ugh, tryna stimulate the census, f**k her five times
Enough money to last a couple lifetimes
F**king b*t*hes while I'm filming in my downtime
I'm all up in her guts, feeling like an enzyme
Ay, ay, that pu**y bald, Imma Make-A-Wish
Ay, these boys are starving, come and grab a dish
Ay, you already know that my b*t*h is bad
Me and yo' mama, go picture that
B*t*h, look at me, I'm your richer dad
Ay, throw it back, make it clap, throw it back
Throw it back, make it clap, throw it back

I'm makin' these hits like I'm Timberlake (woo-ooh)
Private jet straight out to Italy (woo-ooh)
She sucked me up on the interstate (woo-ooh)
Your b*t*h hit me up, man, you gettin' played

Yuh, I made a bag off the net like iCarly
Off the top I spit, I'm Jeff Hardy
Play girls like Barbies
Got white boys talking like "Dude, gnarly"
Back inside this b*t*h, I never left though
She gon' suck my d**k, until she strep throat
Right inside your b*t*h, and then I left though
Said I'm gon' be broke, you wanna bet though?
Get, get, get, get along
Just pa**ed third base, now we headed home
Like Marvin Gaye, let's get it on
Imma do the deed like I'm Doug Dimmadome
Make another hit, reloading
Give your girl the Heimlich, she choking
Said I loved the b*t*h, I'm joking
Tell me why I just started stroking? (What the f**k?)
Ay, you already know that my b*t*h is bad
Me and yo' mama, go picture that
B*t*h, look at me, I'm your richer dad
Ay, throw it back, make it clap, throw it back
Throw it back, make it clap, throw it back

I'm makin' these hits like I'm Timberlake (woo-ooh)
Private jet straight out to Italy (woo-ooh)
She sucked me up on the interstate (woo-ooh)
Your b*t*h hit me up, man, you gettin' played