100 Clip lyrics

by

Sharc & Pi’erre Bourne



[Intro]
This is 47 Meters Down
Th-Th-There's only one Sharc
Yeah, ho
Ho, bring that money home, yeah
Haha, you know I'm a pimp (Foreign sh*t, flyest in the city, me)

[Chorus]
Foreign sh*t, yeah, she gon' rub her clit
Why you frontin', kid? You never had a hundred clip
Dirty Fanta, yeah, that muddy sh*t
Yeah, they love the kid, she got tunnel vision
She be starin' at a rich n*gga di*k print
I'm in Atlanta with the Wraith, with the Remington
Have my way with her face, she got good spits
Yeah, selling dummy bricks, I dress 'em up like businessmen
Yeah, booted Fendi drip, ayy, feel like Crimson Chin
Yeah, she from England, grr, glicks from Switzerland
Skrrt, we gon' spin again, ballin', why they interferin'?
Sharc so arrogant, yeah, see through racks on me (Yeah, yeah)
Foreign sh*t, yeah, she gon' rub her clit
Why you frontin', kid? You never had a hundred clip
Dirty Fanta, yeah, that muddy sh*t
Yeah, they love the kid, she got tunnel vision
She be starin' at a rich n*gga di*k print
I'm in Atlanta with the Wraith, with the Remington
Have my way with her face, she got good spits
Yeah, selling dummy bricks, I dress 'em up like businessmen
Yeah, booted Fendi drip, ayy, feel like Crimson Chin
Yeah, she from England, grr, glicks from Switzerland
Skrrt, we gon' spin again, ballin', why they interferin'?
Sharc so arrogant, yeah, see through racks on me (Yeah)
[Verse]
Givenchy jeans bussin'
Grimy killers trippin', eyeballs jumping out her skull (Yeah)
Take a flicky, b*tch, flyest in the city, me (Yeah)
Have these denims free, XO to my scammer b*tch
Scoop 'em like they Russian Cream
Baddies by the five-pack, angels with the thigh-pack
Might be Fear of God slacks [?] with the next strap
Cappin' boy, you not that, cap him, where the cameras at?
Still serve with them sandwich bags, all paid, fifties, twenty racks (Yeah, yeah)

[Chorus]
Foreign sh*t, yeah, she gon' rub her clit
Why you frontin', kid? You never had a hundred clip
Dirty Fanta, yeah, that muddy sh*t
Yeah, they love the kid, she got tunnel vision
She be starin' at a rich n*gga di*k print
I'm in Atlanta with the Wraith, with the Remington
Have my way with her face, she got good spits
Yeah, selling dummy bricks, I dress 'em up like businessmen
Yeah, booted Fendi drip, ayy, feel like Crimson Chin
Yeah, she from England, grr, glicks from Switzerland
Skrrt, we gon' spin again, ballin', why they interferin'?
Sharc so arrogant, yeah, see through racks on me
A B C D E F G H I J K L M N O P Q R S T U V W X Y Z #
Copyright © 2012 - 2021 BeeLyrics.Net