Punk Lyrics – Pbootyeater
Singer: Pbootyeater
Title: Punk
This m#th*rf#ck*r put all the producer tags on this sh#t
All his homies and sh#t
Woah, woah, woah
My, my, my diamonds dance they twerkin’
Just bought that hoe a birkin
Don’t wanna put that work in
All these hoes that i be swervin’
I’m still 16, i’m still young
Boy this stupid in my cup
Actin’ stupid actin’ dumb
Boy this stupid in my guts
b#tch came over, tried to kiss me
I said “b#tch just suck my nuts”
b#tch tried startin’ somethin’ with me, but i’m just trying to f#ck (ha ha ha)
Trying to f#ck
Told me somethin’ i forgot
She said she wanna get married like b#tch say what? (what?)
It’s always the crazy hoes
Well it’s just my luck
Drivin’ on my way to downtown in a big #ss tonka truck
Ok, ok, ok (yeah)
Ok, ok (woah)
Looked at the mirror, am i ok?
Am i insane?
Am i the same guy or did i change
Bad b#tch filling up my brain
Bad b#tch, she givin’ me brain
Baby, i need you to stay (oh)
I swear that you’re not in the way (way)
Baby, i need you to stay (oh)
I swear that you’re not in the way (oh)
Booty eater’s in the truck
In reverse, we run amuck
Got no b#tches, got no luck
Timberland down to my butt
Got the boots and tiki hut
Asking preston for my cut (oh)
“hey preston when you paying” (oh sh#t i gotta pay elliott hold up hold up)
All these hoes got me in pain
Got the cup full of insane
Tonka truck in both the lanes
My wrist wet, she call it rain
I can never feel the same, same, same, same, same, same
Ironman on both my fists
On my cell like mitosis
A butt guy, but i like t#ts
Take a lax i’ve got the sh#ts
“aw sh#t i gotta”
“aye what the f#ck, round 2”
Think i’ve gone too far
Don’t lie, i raised the bar
Smoke his #ss like it’s a cart
Drift on the beat like i drift a car, car
I’m on a, i’m on a star (oh)
I’m on a, i’m on a star (oh)
Said she want tip and i gave her a hint
Lil b#tch want dick, only stick is a hit
Ran up some money, it’s time well spent
Milking a joke like the utters are sh#t, gong
Search history how to make bombs
Me, bootyeater, and statefarm
5% battery on facetime
Call me a dick, yes i’m up in this b#tch
I’m only twelve, got a quarter, i’m rich
Failed the last quarter, precum, mr.tip
Body the p#ss#, a bag zip-zip
Nut everywhere like a squirrel’s wet dream
Take off my shirt and they call it obscene
She stop breathing, that’s track three
Oh, you crying?
Left on seen
Ok, ok, ok (yeah)
Ok, ok (woah)
Find more lyrics at lyrics.jspinyin.net
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Lyrics Pbootyeater – Punk
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