Iggy Azalea, Wiz Khalifa — OMG

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Текст Iggy Azalea, Wiz Khalifa — OMG

Got it on smash

Got it on smash

Think he ain’t got a chance with a bitch like me, he ain’t rich enough,

rich enough (no)

Calls need to stop he ain’t calling ’bout the guap, I ain’t picking up,

picking up (brrp)

Y’all little hoes can’t sit by the pool, you ain’t thick enough,

thick enough (go)

Weave so long and the pussy so wet, gon’ eat it up, beat it up

 

Oh My God, this shit different

Oh My God, Gucci slippers

Oh My God, my wrist vicious

Oh My God, might hurt yo feelings

Oh My God, this shit different

Oh My God, Gucci slippers

Oh My God, my wrist vicious

Oh My God, might hurt yo feelings

 

He said it tastes so good, I should just serve it on a plate

Bought that Wraith fresh off the lot, that bitch ain’t even got no plates

I be looking at the stars while my pussy in his face

How the fuck could I fall off? I get 250 just to play

They taking shots like, Plaxico

I’m riding waves in, Mexico

You bitches gassed like, Texaco

Ain’t bout that bag, no hemaphone

 

Make sure your money match a mouth before you ever talk at me

And if you want me to pull up

Just know I’ma need a feet (yah!)

Think he ain’t got a chance with a bitch like me, he ain’t rich enough,

rich enough (no)

Calls need to stop he ain’t calling ’bout the guap, I ain’t picking up,

picking up (brrp)

Y’all little hoes can’t sit by the pool, you ain’t thick enough,

thick enough (go)

Weave so long and the pussy so wet, gon’ eat it up, beat it up

 

Oh My God, this shit different

Oh My God, Gucci slippers

Oh My God, my wrist vicious

Oh My God, might hurt yo feelings

Oh My God, this shit different

Oh My God, Gucci slippers

Oh My God, my wrist vicious (yeah)

Oh My God, might hurt yo feelings (yeah)

 

Smoking on some Sticky Icky, need a bitch like Iggy

Hit my phone up for quickee, no shake but I’m picky

Told that bitch to ride my dick, she tried to pop a wheelie

Got so much ass, on a traffic stop to see it

I be rolling tropical weed up

I be on a flight with my feet up

I get on the track and I eat it up

Get her in the bed, I beat it up

Bang, I get the bitch and I change her

Got you bringing weed on the plane

Everywhere, they throwing up gang (hahahaha)

Think he ain’t got a chance with a bitch like me, he ain’t rich enough,

rich enough (ah, no)

Calls need to stop he ain’t calling ’bout the guap, I ain’t picking up,

picking up (brrp)

Y’all little hoes can’t sit by the pool, you ain’t thick enough,

thick enough (go)

Weave so long and the pussy so wet, gon’ eat it up, beat it up

 

Oh My God, this shit different

Oh My God, Gucci slippers

Oh My God, my wrist vicious

Oh My God, might hurt yo feelings

Oh My God, this shit different

Oh My God, Gucci slippers

Oh My God, my wrist vicious (yeah)

Oh My God, might hurt yo feelings (yeah)

Oh My God

Biggest bitch ever!