Wifey Riddim 3 Lyrics

AJ Tracey

Aj Tracey

Lyrics to Wifey Riddim 3
Steel Banglez, Banglez, Banglez

It's "Wifey" part three
My Gucci says, "Blind for love," I can’t see, yeah
My girl, you can't be
But I wanna see you up and out of them jeans, yeah
It's "Wifey" part three
If you’re blowin' up my phone, I'll leave you on "Read," yeah
I'm done with them fiends (Uh)
I'm a playboy, babe, got girl from those scenes, yeah (Ayy, ayy)

I'm a playboy, shouts Carti (Cash Carti)
My brothers turn my brand new condo to a party (To a what?)
If she got a back, I'll get a whine off someone's aunty
I got the gyal ’dem drippin’ water like my Carti'
Oops, I meant Rollie
Shout my exes, only girls that really know me (Yeah, they know)
I’ll lay it down right in the block all in my Stoney (My stoney)
I got these boogers in my watch, are not a bogie (Not a bogie)
Young A, already know me (AJ)
I miss Jas', that back made me spaz (Ayy, Jas')
Good like neck from Persia or Taz (Oh, boy)
Ann knows her bodies A1 but she ducks me, though
I love it when her nookie clean like a tuxedo (Love it)
Ethiopian gyal are too blessed, ya know (Blessed)
They ain't ever lettin’ mandem take a stress, ya know (No stress)
How the hell'd you fit that back up in that dress? Ya know (How you did?)
My brothas tryna check your mates, this ain't chess, ya know? (Yeah)

It's "Wifey" part three
My Gucci says, "Blind for love," I can't see, yeah
My girl, you can't be
But I wanna see you up and out of them jeans, yeah
It's "Wifey" part three
If you're blowin' up my phone, I'll leave you on "Read," yeah
I'm done with them fiends
I'm a playboy, babe, got girl from those scenes, yeah

I love an Essex jawn
She tryna give me top while I stretch and yawn (In the a.m.)
My Irish girl Lisa always got the treasure in her panties
But she duckin' like a leprechaun (What you runnin' for, B?)
But that's too bad, I need a Hannah B 'cause she bad (Call me)
Ayy, I love her breasts, but, boy, I need ass (I want ass)
I ain't really drivin' for now, I'm in cabs (Cab ting)
If I ain't with a yattie, I'm cookin' up in lab
No posin', I need a girl who don't breathe when she blows it
I love a blonde ting, and Vicky's explosive (Explosive)
But she knows it
We might have to part ways like Moses
Girl know I'm young, I'm rich, and I'm hung
Some put that pineapple all up in that glass and rum
If you did me dirty and you see me, best run
'Cause my niggas got the pum-p-pum-p-pums, yeah

It's "Wifey" part three
My Gucci says, "Blind for love," I can't see, yeah
My girl, you can't be
But I wanna see you up and out of them jeans, yeah
It's "Wifey" part three
If you're blowin' up my phone, I'll leave you on "Read," yeah
I'm done with them fiends (Uh)
I'm a playboy, babe, got girl from those scenes, yeah (Ayy, ayy)
Songwriters:
Publisher:
Powered by LyricFind