Lyrics THE JUNK - Ciel

(I got the junk, the money, the style, the funk)

All of them feed from the bottom
I swear that the bottom it looked like the top
To me
All of my numbers are summin'
The hunnas are coming
My team with me
I just been whippin' around in a white
So you think that my names Whitney
I been feeling myself like Soulja boy in 2003

I got the junk yeah yeah
I got the junk
I got the junk yeah yeah
I got the junk
I got the junk yeah yeah
I got the junk
I got the junk yeah yeah
I got the junk

I got the junk the money style the funk
That's what it means to me
She wanna ball told her 6 foot three what she need to be
I been seeing my numbers increasing
Think he better than me we can beat him
Had his girl, she with me, she was cheating
Had that boy running off like a cheetah
Had him darting, he running for metres
Got balenciagas they're my beaters
And I know your girl she wanna meet us
And I know your crew they wanna be us
Just touched down back yard
And I gotta go link my boy for the burner
Your girl shoot shots and she coming like werner
Put him in a pot and I'm gonna go burn off, spark it
Imma crash out the whip I won't park it
If I get the ting I'll never pass it
Free my boy he just got done for arson
He was spitting fire on the paper
Remember when they used to hate us
Now we getting paid they wanna date us
Ask him did he see it like I'm J Hus
See the IG models with the fake ass

All of them feed from the bottom
I swear that the bottom it look like the bottom for them
My girl she got a fat bottom
I'm sorry for saying it too much won't say it again
All of your gang just cat too much
Just cap too much ain't nobody in pen
All of you brother love chat too much
I've backed you 'nuff
I am not your friend

All of them feed from the bottom
I swear that the bottom it looked like the top
To me
All of my numbers are summin'
The hunnas are coming
My team with me
I just been whippin' around in a white
So you think that my names Whitney
I been feeling myself like Soulja boy in 2003

I got the junk yeah yeah
I got the junk
I got the junk yeah yeah
I got the junk
I got the junk yeah yeah
I got the junk
I got the junk yeah yeah
I got the junk

Yeah ma' you ain't ever wearing no Vetements
Get the bag first you get it last
Getting my crumbs you ate last
Hating my gang you ain't we
I been abroad for like 8 weeks
All up in the A getting paid B
She wanna spin the block come see D
Your ting she look like A4
Remember the times I was giving them G force
They changing like channels I'm calling em' E4
Now I'm blowing up and they calling me C4
She's all on me for the bands
Feed these kids with my hands
Cos these man they just be talking for the bants
But that boy he a munch he a snack
And we blowing on green that pressure
Weed etcetera
If you wanna come step you won't step far
Just got my new ting a new Telfar
Cos I was whipping that white on her counter

All of them feed from the bottom
I swear that the bottom it looked like the top
To me

All of my numbers are summin'
The hunnas are coming
My team with me
I just been whippin' around in a white
So you think that my names Whitney
I been feeling myself like Soulja boy in 2003

I got the junk yeah yeah
I got the junk
I got the junk yeah yeah
I got the junk
I got the junk yeah yeah
I got the junk
I got the junk yeah yeah
I got the junk