Lyrics Yung Buddha – All Them b#tches

All Them b#tches Lyrics – Yung Buddha

Singer: Yung Buddha
Title: All Them b#tches

All them b#tches hopin’ on my dick
n#gg# why you always sick?
Got no m#th*rf#ck*r with a gun
Gimme that bun

Pretty girls wanna have fun
b#tches with the sun burn, (aye)
I ain’t no fear
Blow that gear

Illuminati buy a Bugatti
I’m ridin’ with the same n#gg#s
#ss up, face down look at my eyes
f#ck out my face

And call me at your place
Locate your space
Jordan on my lace
I ain’t doin this for the fame

Slangin dope in this rap game
All them b#tches hopin’ on my dick
n#gg# why you always sick?
Got no m#th*rf#ck*r with a gun

Gimme that bun
Pretty girls wanna have fun
b#tches with the sun burn, (aye)
I do party like them rockstar

b#tches f#ckin with that cop car, (aye)
n#gg# tell еm b#tches go to the fourth bar
Ain’t got no time for thеm hoes
Bad b#tches callin out they bros

Pop up my tape and
b#tches in they right shape
All I gotta do is to get through it
n#gg#s tellin b#tches get on it

All them b#tches hopin’ on my dick
n#gg# why you always sick?
Got no m#th*rf#ck*r with a gun
Gimme that bun

Pretty girls wanna have fun
b#tches with the sun burn, (aye)
Ain’t got no time for them hoes
Bad b#tches callin out they bros

Blacked out drunk and I came like this
Reminiscing back and I f#cked that b#tch
Lil b#tch tryna suck my dick
n#gg#s tryna get to the mountain peak

Ain’t got no time for them hoes
Bad b#tches callin out they bros
Fat #ss n#gg#s got the bad #ss b#tches
You’s a bad b#tch and I know that, (aye)

I ain’t no popstar, need that doctor
I’m the role model, pass me that bottle
f#ck that b#tch, n#gg# what you think
I ain’t gon’ pretend

f#ck your boyfriend
I’ma take your bestfriend
All them n#gg#s trippin’ like they b#tches, (aye)
Mister Obama knows your drama

Motherf#ckin’ b#tch what you thinkin’ of me
I’ma give million dollar loan on my own
Just call me on my phone
I’ll be watchin’ bad boys 2 n#gg#

What you gon do?
All them b#tches hopin’ on my dick
n#gg# why you always sick?
Got no m#th*rf#ck*r with a gun

Gimme that bun
Pretty girls wanna have fun
b#tches with the sun burn, (aye)
b#tches with the sun burn, (aye)

b#tches with the sun burn, (aye)
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Lyrics Yung Buddha – All Them b#tches

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