Sayin’ Whatever lyrics

by

Asher Roth


[Chorus: Buddy]
And we just sayin' whatever
And we just sayin' whatever, boy
And we just sayin' whatever
And we just sayin' whatever, boy

[Verse 1: Buddy]
It's the BU-double-double, so you know you're in trouble
Nothing subtle, I'm a rebel, flow is water
Watch me kettle, I put the barrel to your finger
Then I call it bloody knuckles
And I'm hungry, so I eat you like you Ruffles
Then I chuckle, I'm
Ballin' on you suckas, neva have to call it fumble
Never stumble, neva tumble, if you want to, we can rumble
I'm underneath the water snorkelin'
Y'all snugglin', sippin' on a bubbly because I'm finally bubblin'
Oops, I didn't mean to rub it in, y'all strugglin'
All my money doubling, I'm flyin' out to Dublin
We comin' in and stuntin' it and doin' it right in front of em
Rollin' another blunt and then blowin' smoke like the government
Uh, simmer down, homie, I ain't the one
Roll a pound, of the loud by the mouth to the sun
Hot, back back, matter fact, back down
Backpack, full of cash, till I put the bag down
Gimme all that
[Chorus: Buddy]
And we just sayin' whatever
And we just sayin' whatever, boy
And we just sayin' whatever
And we just sayin' whatever, boy

[Verse 2: Asher Roth]
It's that A-S-H-E-R-O, arrows to the apple
Tackle apples, by the Adam's apple, grapple
Wanna wrestle, in the back yard of my backyard
Master of the atar
Head be turning faster, when we pass em, buy a fast car
Small margin of error, mind over matter
Mirror images of each other, cousins, brothers and lovers
Hiding under covers, like we some thunder buddys or sum'
Thumpin', bumpin', jumpin' up for a hug
One in the oven, husbands bummin'
Cause they got handcuffed, to the rug?
I be f*ckin', gettin' drunk, f*ckin' b*tches doin' drugs
On some hungry hungry hippo, get a grip
Keep it simple, wrinkle, that's a nipple
Let it slip, size of a nickle
No fives, go fish, blow chips, on some oh sh*t
Goin' slower than a bower, lower onto both lips
Oh, sh*t, girls go 'grose, he's so hipster'
Holla at yo sister, listen to miss, mister
Christal Billy film me, the Beverly Hills
Illest Billy, be really still, killer kills
Heel of Achiles, is real as Philly's, Gillie the Kid
Get fortunate, portion unproportional
Of course, I'm never forcing it
Get my fortune, from the fortune cooks
Good looks, shook tooks, plus this
You know any good books
Cuz I might adopt a dog, and that b*tch say he's cornpop
Pass the popcorn, in the dorm, hit the porn shop
Pork chop, course four, pour many more shots
Warn shots, comin' for your door, through a shortcut
War Sucks, poor sport, tore polar vortex
Working on my car, when I force, more more flex
More checks, more sex, much more re-spect
C-sects, X-X-L, like he next
Please B, I been on, head on and head strong
Put a hundred and ten percent, on everything I get
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