Lyrics Anaconda - Robyn Adele Anderson , Scott Bradlee & Postmodern Jukebox

Boy toy named Troy used to live in Detroit
Big dope dealer money, he was getting some coins
Was in shootouts with the law, but he live in a palace
Bought Alexander McQueen, he was keeping me stylish
Now that's real, real, real,
Gun in my purse, but I came dressed to kill
Who wanna go first? I had'em push daffodils
I'm happy as hell, I only took half the squil
I'm on some dumb shhht
By the way, what he's sayin'?
I ain't missing no meals
I Come through and hit him in my automobile
He can eat it with its grills, keep on telling me to chill
Dun-d-d-dun-dun
My anaconda don't, my anaconda don't
My anaconda don't want none unless you got buns, hun
This dude named Michael used to ride motorcycles
He was bigger than a tower, I ain't talking about Eiffel's
It was a real countryman, let me play with his rifle
I put him to sleep, and now he calling me NyQuil
Now that bang, bang, bang
I let him hit it like working on the chain gang,
Keep rolling crops, like his name Romaine
And when we done, I make him buy me Balmain
I'm on some dumb shhht
By the way, what he's sayin'?
I ain't missing no meals
I Come through and hit him in my automobile
He can eat it with its grills, keep telling me to chill
Dun-d-d-dun-dun
My anaconda don't, my anaconda don't
My anaconda don't want none unless you got buns, hun
Oh my gosh, look at that banjo
Oh my gosh, look at that banjo
Little in the middle, but she got much back
My anaconda don't, my anaconda don't
My anaconda don't want none unless you got buns, hun
My anaconda don't, my anaconda don't
My anaconda don't want none unless you got buns, hun