paroles de chanson / Autumn! parole / Average Night! lyrics  | ENin English

Paroles de Average Night!

Interprète Autumn!

Paroles de la chanson Average Night! par Autumn! lyrics officiel

Average Night! est une chanson en Anglais

(Ha, no way, way, way)
(Ain't no way, huh, bitch, no way, ain't no way, bitch)
(Ain't no way, way, ain't no way, ain't no way, hey, hey)
(Ain't no way, ain't no way)
(Ain't no way, ain't no way, ain't no way)

I'm with two bad bitches eatin' Rasta pasta, my roster goated
This Prada, Adidas, all Balenciaga, this ain't no Gosha (no way)
We gon' put that boy up on a fuckin' tee, I don't fuck with posters
That Draco sittin' right on side of me, I don't need no holster
If you wanna leave, then lil' bitch, just leave, I don't need no closure
Spent about 60K on motherfuckin' jeans, next to my sofa

Margiela, Margiela, Margiela, 'cause I know these niggas be jealous
Gotta watch what you say 'round them new niggas, you know them niggas be tellin'
I'm the type to find out my bitch gettin' fucked and I ain't gon' sweat it
You type find out yo' ho gettin' slutty, you tryna go catch her
I'm the type, me and bro, we friends, now fuck it, let's go hit the next one
We the type to find out and go ask a bitch, "Who really the best one?"
I'm the type, my bitch ain't know what I want, I'ma hit your best friend
You the type go camp out just 'cause you heard that she at The Westin
I'm the type of young nigga ain't never had shit, now I be flexin'
You the type, lil' bro, still never had shit, now you out here stressin'
I'm the type of young nigga, she gon' eat me up while I count my blessings
Nah, for real
Back of the Maybach, turn this bitch to a BnB
If I tell my young niggas, "I won't get back," they flashin' like TMZ
She suckin' me so damn good, she ain't gon' stop 'til I blow like TNT
You keep on savin' these hoes, it's why you wan' kill yourself, you a EMT
I'm fuckin' this ho with lil' O and then then it's back to the O like E-I-E
And my young niggas on poles, it's gon' be holes in the nigga, no E-Y-E
I'm tryna tell ya

I'm with two bad bitches eatin' Rasta pasta, my roster goated
This Prada, Adidas, all Balenciaga, this ain't no Gosha (no way)
We gon' put that boy up on a fuckin' tee, I don't fuck with posters
That Draco sittin' right on side of me, I don't need no holster
If you wanna leave, then lil' bitch, just leave, I don't need no closure
Spent about 60K on motherfuckin' jeans, next to my sofa
Droits parole : paroles officielles sous licence Lyricfind respectant le droit d'auteur.
Reproduction des paroles interdite sans autorisation.
Auteur: Benjamin Phillips
Copyright: SINGLES PUBLISHING, LLC

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