Arrivederci
Arrivederci

Dave Hill - Arrivederci Lyrics

1
Arrivederci Music Video

Arrivederci Lyrics

Is you serious
I'm connected everywhere hit me if you need some service
All long sleeves and six seated suburbans
If she ain't tryna fuck right now then arrivederci
Invisible inking pictures I need to see it in person
Let my niggas hit all the strippers I need the nurses
Form fitted scrubs and that ass still sittin' perfect
Right foot step, I had to teach her to hustle
Cause really I'm too much of a boss to be hitting workers
Look, Harper Ray accessories shit that mix with the lifestyle
I'm plugged out west I can sit you next with the brow god
You been waiting on that opening for 3 months
Long paper don't forget your references and research
Eating good thats because I'm grinding till my teeth hurt
If it ain't 'bout some paper then go put it on a t-shirt
Dead that, fuck her while the bread stack
Look at me with her tongue out
Come here and tilt your head back, I got it baby
Touching on a plug I'm prolly shocking baby
Gripping out the front seat of the buggy now we shopping baby
Start to lay my denim on bed for how my pockets laying
Let me bitch go balling in the city think the shock is playing

Uhn, huddle up
Late night hustle till the sun is up
100 yard dash we can run it up
Still gotta keep it player
Gotta fuck me now prolly not gone see me later
I don't chase pussy, so it gotta be some paper
Cuts inside my jeans gotta compliment the tailor
Let a bad bitch eat cause I can't argue with a waiter

Stink pink gators, three sleeve paper
Up a check and a half I'm like 3 weeks labor
On the grind now I can sleep later
Top me on the wake up, and count what's on the table
If the box ain't up to par then I can't add her to my list
I like the bundles down her back and her ass is fat as shit
All white toes and a manicure that hit
But only judge a set by how they wrap around my
Hol' up
Need some ones before commas and the donuts
I like to let money stack until it can't fold up
Don't invite her to the stu if she can't roll up
Keep my finger on the volume till it can't go up
Copped the hey, now spent at least three thousand
Two door shooter got my seat reclining
Neighborhood park, I'm down each street sliding
Big face roll on, you see we Big Tymin', hold up
Seven hundred dollar dunks, its all star weekend
And my bitch dripped like she crawled out the deep end
Took my life savings, bet it all on my ink pen
Now it's marble floors and around where my sink is
Grab a coaster ain't no moisture on my counter top
Start it over, I like to hear it when you count it out
Don't get closer, I have them boys go spin a round the block
Time is money, I told Cory get some hour blocks

Uhn, huddle up
Late night hustle till the sun is up
100 yard dash we can run it up
Still gotta keep it player
Gotta fuck me now prolly not gone see me later
I don't chase pussy, so it gotta be some paper
Cuts inside my jeans gotta compliment the tailor
Let a bad bitch eat cause I can't argue with a waiter

Writer(s): David Hill-Gray
Copyright(s): Lyrics © DistroKid
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind

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