paroles de chanson Soda! - Jay Montana

Woah, woah, woah
Yea, Jay Montana man
Jay Montana
Yea, yea

Pour me some Wock' in my soda
Trap phone is jumpin' that shit Motorola
These n***** annoyin', these bitches keep lyin', I pop me a Perky I hate being sober
My n***** spin in a Rover
Demon he lurkin' he in a Toyota
Shooters they catchin' a body, ain't leaving a witness, and no I ain't talkin' Jehovah
Pour me some promethazine in the soda, mix all of that shit in a double cup
That shorty see me with gang, how we flex in the party, now she wanna fuck wit' us
And your girl on my dick and she brought all her friends to the telly
So they can just suck on us
And that boy was just talkin' down all upon gang
So I'm makin' him bleed like a Wocky slush

Woah, woah
Imma be out in a second
That's what I told your girlfriend when she told me that she wanna swallow my dressin'
And this shit ain't a game but I told him I'm beatin' his ass like this shit was in Tekken
And that shorty was dubbing me, she was a ten, now I'm looking at her she's a seven
Yea, she's a seven
I'm finna hop in a coupe, that bitch got no windows, that shit is a drop top
That n**** said he want smoke, but I'm wit' my n*****, make that shit a hot box
Pussy boy talking too much, but we know you a bitch, you be wearing a crop top
My n***** we got the drop, I ain't talkin' 'bout jokes when we pull up and knock knock
Damn (Uh) shooters gon' shoot if I say
That n**** be guffin' and suckin' just to get approval, My n**** you gay
And I just got a Nina, it came wit' a stick, keep on talkin' I'm gon' let it spray
And he told me to pull up, I came wit' a Glock, and I'm aimin' that shit at his face
Spray it like mace
Pull off in a foreign, bitch I skirt off in a Maserati
My n***** pull up and get to flashin' like its paperazzi
Shooters, and they pull up, and they pop you like a fuckin' molly
Bitch I feel like Tecca, got your shorty off a fuckin' dolly
Pull up, she wet
Don't want the box, I want neck
That shorty know I'm up next
So she wanna give me the sex
And imma keep winnin' I'm talking uh
Got that bitch in the telly, she toppin' us
And they like all the drip, so they copy us
Yea my n***** up next, so what's stoppin' us
Squeeze on her itty butt
That bih gon' give me luck

Pour me some Wock' in my soda
Trap phone is jumpin' that shit Motorola
These n***** annoyin', these bitches keep lyin', I pop me a Perky I hate being sober
My n***** spin in a Rover
Demon he lurkin' he in a Toyota
Shooters they catchin' a body, ain't leaving a witness, and no I ain't talkin' Jehovah
Pour me some promethazine in the soda, mix all of that shit in a double cup
That shorty see me with gang, how we flex in the party, now she wanna fuck wit' us
And your girl on my dick and she brought all her friends to the telly
So they can just suck on us
And that boy was just talkin' down all upon gang
So I'm makin' him bleed like a Wocky slush

Yea, pour me some Wock' in my soda
Yea, yea, woah, Jay Montana man
Pour me some Wock' in my soda
Yea
Woah, Jay Montana man