lil sally walker

Who the f*ck is Eli Bitch, who is Eli That's what you doin, you on that though Ayy, ayy I guess you left your waist at home, huh Huh You ain't nothin' like these bitches, got your own vibe You ain't trippin' on no nigga, got your own guap You gon' call me twenty times and make my phone hot You told bestie, this your song, huh Huh You gon' f*ck it up You gon' run it up You the baddest bitch here You not runner up Tell your girl to jump in It's like double dutch Lil' sally walker Toot it up and arch it Dick her down, chase me around She like Nicki Parker She say, daddy, I'm your baby No, I'm not the father Said she wanna see a star You gon' need binoculars She into astrology Wanna know my sign Where I was born And what's the time Bae, f*ck all of that and follow me Prada sneak, ninety-three denim With the whitest tee Cartier woods, wood grain It look mahogany She a work of art In school workin' hard This the type of dick That make you cancel work tomorrow Baby chocolate, break her off Just like a Hershey bar Diggin' in lil' mama deep She keep the perfect arch You look good on Instagram But better on my arm Passenger my car Damn, that ass bizarre Take a trip OT The locals askin' who we are Five-star restaurant Now she not mad at me no more I guess you left your waist at home, huh Huh You ain't nothin' like these bitches, got your own vibe You ain't trippin' on no nigga, got your own guap You gon' call me twenty times and make my phone hot You told bestie, this your song, huh Huh You gon' f*ck it up You gon' run it up You the baddest bitch here You not runner up Tell your girl to jump in It's like double dutch They had you before But they ain't have you like this, huh You so solid, these lil' hoes don't matter to you, huh Barely smoke, you gon' roll and pass it to me, huh You so fine, bae, you ain't gotta never be on time Got your own paper you ain't never in no bind Feel like Tiger Woods, I got that check on me right now Chasing Ms, I can't PMS with you right now Forgot your waist somewhere at the crib gotta turn around Got damn I guess you left your waist at home, huh Huh You ain't nothin' like these bitches, got your own vibe You ain't trippin' on no nigga, got your own guap You gon' call me twenty times and make my phone hot You told bestie, this your song, huh Huh You gon' f*ck it up You gon' run it up You the baddest bitch here You not runner up Tell your girl to jump in It's like double dutch