Number Nine
Lyrics
Keen run dat shit, yeah it's Keenan season
These Number Nine jeans
Can't fuck on my queen
Can't fuck on my queen, nah
These Number Nine jeans, hoe
Cash all in my jeans they poke
Buy a bitch new Celine, woah
I be in that bitch dreams, woah
Yeah this rack now folding up
So I spent on a Rover truck
Niggas talking they folding huh
Had a bitch then I broke her off
Everything is galore, all my bitches they spoiled
Pour a cup I need more
Take a hoe to Bora Bora
I won't cop, it ain't foreign
It ain't foreign it's boring
Getting money on tour, yeah I used to grow corn
Had to split with my team, whole gang gotta eat
Gotta glock with a beam, and they shoot from the knees up
Told the bitch I can't keep her, fuck her good she squeak
Imma fuck her real neat, yeah neat like a geek
These racks in my jeans, I fuck a bitch she need lean
Lean, lean, lean, yeah
I got my beat from Keenan, she suck my dick like she's teething
All of my niggas they heathens, yeah it's Keenan season
Told a bitch breathe easily, fuck a bitch really, really
I swear to god I be fucking these bitches
And they be clean, really
And I be dripping like mufucking faucets, these niggas see, really
And I got the stick in the closet, it's gon hit you dear
Imma hit you, got a glock with a rule
Better stop with the fools, why you be talking just do it
It became an illusion, counting green like pollution
Fucking bitches exclusive, jewelry wet like a pool
These Number Nine jeans, hoe
Cash all in my jeans they poke
Buy a bitch new Celine, woah
I be in that bitch dreams, woah
Yeah this rack now folding up
So I spent on a Rover truck
Niggas talking they folding huh
Had a bitch then I broke her off
Everything is galore, all my bitches they spoiled
Pour a cup I need more
Take a hoe to Bora Bora
I won't cop, it ain't foreign
It ain't foreign it's boring
Getting money on tour, yeah I used to grow corn
Yeah it's Keenan season
Keen run dat shit, yeah it's Keenan season
These Number Nine jeans
Can't fuck on my queen
Can't fuck on my queen, nah
These Number Nine jeans, hoe
Cash all in my jeans they poke
Buy a bitch new Celine, woah
I be in that bitch dreams, woah
Yeah this rack now folding up
So I spent on a Rover truck
Niggas talking they folding huh
Had a bitch then I broke her off
Everything is galore, all my bitches they spoiled
Pour a cup I need more
Take a hoe to Bora Bora
I won't cop, it ain't foreign
It ain't foreign it's boring
Getting money on tour, yeah I used to grow corn
Had to split with my team, whole gang gotta eat
Gotta glock with a beam, and they shoot from the knees up
Told the bitch I can't keep her, fuck her good she squeak
Imma fuck her real neat, yeah neat like a geek
These racks in my jeans, I fuck a bitch she need lean
Lean, lean, lean, yeah
I got my beat from Keenan, she suck my dick like she's teething
All of my niggas they heathens, yeah it's Keenan season
Told a bitch breathe easily, fuck a bitch really, really
I swear to god I be fucking these bitches
And they be clean, really
And I be dripping like mufucking faucets, these niggas see, really
And I got the stick in the closet, it's gon hit you dear
Imma hit you, got a glock with a rule
Better stop with the fools, why you be talking just do it
It became an illusion, counting green like pollution
Fucking bitches exclusive, jewelry wet like a pool
These Number Nine jeans, hoe
Cash all in my jeans they poke
Buy a bitch new Celine, woah
I be in that bitch dreams, woah
Yeah this rack now folding up
So I spent on a Rover truck
Niggas talking they folding huh
Had a bitch then I broke her off
Everything is galore, all my bitches they spoiled
Pour a cup I need more
Take a hoe to Bora Bora
I won't cop, it ain't foreign
It ain't foreign it's boring
Getting money on tour, yeah I used to grow corn
Yeah it's Keenan season
Writer(s): TED HARRIS
Copyright(s): Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Lyrics Licensed & Provided by LyricFind
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