Lyrics to Body Body Body (freestyle)
Hehehe
Hey, let's fuck around
Look
Body, body, body, body (yeah)
I'ma need that right on me (ha)
(Yeah, let's have some fun, ah)
Now body, body, body, body (yeah)
I'ma need that right on me (waddup)
Pick it up, she drop it low
I pick it up, she drop it low
I pick it up, she drop it low
I pick it up, yeah
Now, body, body, body, body
I'ma need that right on me (look)
Now, body, body, body, body
I'ma need that right on me (Oh now that my bag down, yeah)
I got love for you, [?] cup for you
Beat it a couple times, [?] enough [?] on it
I never loved women, they outta time now
And since I had a baby girl, I'm in my vibe now
Who gon' fuck with us? One of the realest niggas
I got a million from Neiman from being independent, feel it
Fear of God, zipper on, Jay Lorenzo dog, let me get like four, bruh, uh
Folarin season, nigga stop sleepin'
Early morning hit a sermon, that be plot speakin'
Sweet pussy, sat days like I can't speak
Never ever, ever kiddin', bitch I don't play
Tell these mad rappers, I'ma lead this John Blaze
Stupid ass nigga, that was a reference to Mase
Remember the days, Harlem World, all the girls
Jealous guys still around and they in the way
Shawty, shawty, shawty, shawty (yeah)
What these little bitches want from me?
(Do you ain't hear me? I said, I said)
Shawty, shawty, shawty, shawty
What these little bitches want from me?
Won't give em' a goddamn thing
Flows on flows, they float, they don't miss
Boats and hoes, my little rubber band, bitch
Coast to coast, like John Wall and Harden
My dogs in [?] Park put paws on your posse
Impossible is nothing, I'm livin' it up
Indian soul, and shawty look like India Love
I'm into your love, I'm into your mind, into your vibe
It's in your stomach, and one day it'll get you to shine
The old album title
Was so-so with the sales, but did it without a writer
Somebody want a problem with us, better buy a bible or rifle
And hire a fire ass Nascar guy to drive
Yeah, I'm on my earn hard shit
Want my young niggas that earn y'all shit
Nigga think I ain't got the word out shit
Man, I know the little niggas that serve y'all shit
Pull up in the Ghost at the carry-out, bitch
Niggas never know about my whereabouts, bitch
Somewhere in Carrol City, a carousel whip
Meaning there's so many horses it's like a marathon, bitch
Body, body, body, body (yeah)
Can I get my cheek popped, please? Do it for my PYT
I wanna love you, pretty young thing
And that single still was platinum
'Cause academically they fuck with me
That's why I'm struggle-free, yeah
They droppin' off, I'm pickin' up
They fallin' off, I'm fuckin' up
The fuckin' charts, they fuckin' up
'Cause I ain't on 'em, but me and Bonnie gon' see what's up (right)
I hope my woman ain't scorned
She see me on that Tidal, so her entitlement gone
I ain't findin' no wife, and that's probably 'cause of myself
Heaven knows mental health is a detriment to my wealth, nigga
Mahershala, let me rock
Shout out to Rockville, I was out in Lincoln Park
Up in Mark Twain with the savage
All my friends crazy, my bitches was the baddest
Iceberg shit, you thought it was one of the brothers
Shit ain't been the same, since I signed to Warner Brother
[?] love the hate, all the shade, all the money
I'm find a way to order Momma a little daughter
Shoutout to Baltimore, you ain't know it's like a war
Young niggas dyin', they tryna weather the storm
The Chi niggas shovelin' snow to weather the storm
And Chi niggas dyin' (no, no, put that [?])
Body, body, bodies, bodies
Another black man dead in the street (hey, hey, look)
Bodies, bodies, bodies, bodies
They just don't like my people (black lives still matter to me)
One time
They droppin' off, I'm pickin' up
They droppin' off, I'm pickin' up
They droppin' off, I'm pickin' up (hey)
Now, body, body, bodies, bodies, what is...
Hey, let's fuck around
Look
Body, body, body, body (yeah)
I'ma need that right on me (ha)
(Yeah, let's have some fun, ah)
Now body, body, body, body (yeah)
I'ma need that right on me (waddup)
Pick it up, she drop it low
I pick it up, she drop it low
I pick it up, she drop it low
I pick it up, yeah
Now, body, body, body, body
I'ma need that right on me (look)
Now, body, body, body, body
I'ma need that right on me (Oh now that my bag down, yeah)
I got love for you, [?] cup for you
Beat it a couple times, [?] enough [?] on it
I never loved women, they outta time now
And since I had a baby girl, I'm in my vibe now
Who gon' fuck with us? One of the realest niggas
I got a million from Neiman from being independent, feel it
Fear of God, zipper on, Jay Lorenzo dog, let me get like four, bruh, uh
Folarin season, nigga stop sleepin'
Early morning hit a sermon, that be plot speakin'
Sweet pussy, sat days like I can't speak
Never ever, ever kiddin', bitch I don't play
Tell these mad rappers, I'ma lead this John Blaze
Stupid ass nigga, that was a reference to Mase
Remember the days, Harlem World, all the girls
Jealous guys still around and they in the way
Shawty, shawty, shawty, shawty (yeah)
What these little bitches want from me?
(Do you ain't hear me? I said, I said)
Shawty, shawty, shawty, shawty
What these little bitches want from me?
Won't give em' a goddamn thing
Flows on flows, they float, they don't miss
Boats and hoes, my little rubber band, bitch
Coast to coast, like John Wall and Harden
My dogs in [?] Park put paws on your posse
Impossible is nothing, I'm livin' it up
Indian soul, and shawty look like India Love
I'm into your love, I'm into your mind, into your vibe
It's in your stomach, and one day it'll get you to shine
The old album title
Was so-so with the sales, but did it without a writer
Somebody want a problem with us, better buy a bible or rifle
And hire a fire ass Nascar guy to drive
Yeah, I'm on my earn hard shit
Want my young niggas that earn y'all shit
Nigga think I ain't got the word out shit
Man, I know the little niggas that serve y'all shit
Pull up in the Ghost at the carry-out, bitch
Niggas never know about my whereabouts, bitch
Somewhere in Carrol City, a carousel whip
Meaning there's so many horses it's like a marathon, bitch
Body, body, body, body (yeah)
Can I get my cheek popped, please? Do it for my PYT
I wanna love you, pretty young thing
And that single still was platinum
'Cause academically they fuck with me
That's why I'm struggle-free, yeah
They droppin' off, I'm pickin' up
They fallin' off, I'm fuckin' up
The fuckin' charts, they fuckin' up
'Cause I ain't on 'em, but me and Bonnie gon' see what's up (right)
I hope my woman ain't scorned
She see me on that Tidal, so her entitlement gone
I ain't findin' no wife, and that's probably 'cause of myself
Heaven knows mental health is a detriment to my wealth, nigga
Mahershala, let me rock
Shout out to Rockville, I was out in Lincoln Park
Up in Mark Twain with the savage
All my friends crazy, my bitches was the baddest
Iceberg shit, you thought it was one of the brothers
Shit ain't been the same, since I signed to Warner Brother
[?] love the hate, all the shade, all the money
I'm find a way to order Momma a little daughter
Shoutout to Baltimore, you ain't know it's like a war
Young niggas dyin', they tryna weather the storm
The Chi niggas shovelin' snow to weather the storm
And Chi niggas dyin' (no, no, put that [?])
Body, body, bodies, bodies
Another black man dead in the street (hey, hey, look)
Bodies, bodies, bodies, bodies
They just don't like my people (black lives still matter to me)
One time
They droppin' off, I'm pickin' up
They droppin' off, I'm pickin' up
They droppin' off, I'm pickin' up (hey)
Now, body, body, bodies, bodies, what is...
Songwriters: CARTIER GRAND, JEREMIH FELTON, KENNETH COBY, OLUBOWALE AKINTIMEHIN
Publisher: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
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Publisher: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Powered by LyricFind