Berner - Dump lyrics

Published

0 383 0

Berner - Dump lyrics

(feat. Mac Dre) [Verse 1 - Mac Dre:] This b**h is steady jockin’, shes beggin’ me to kick it She’s all on my dick and I know she want to lick it She’s Wicked, I stick it. Right between her lips The ones on her face and the ones between her hips I dips and slips, she f**s then s**s She ridin’ on my dick while she’s holdin’ on my nuts Lovin’ how I treat her. Mad cause I won’t eat her But when I’m lunch she’s happy, she’s lovin’ how I geeta That first time was cool, then I had too slow up First I turned her out because now she tore up, from the floor up But know what? So What. Girl find another Think I’ll try this potent maccin’ mouthpiece on your mother Serve it to a mama, She’s eatin up my drama She’s smarter than her daughter, Cause she can tell that I am.. Mac about his money, Baby was no dummy I slipped up, and tripped up and put one in her tummy Couldn’t take my dick out, This b**h thick portioned Now she’s in the clinic having an abortion She says that she too old for kids, and I agree Quickly took heed on the time she didn’t bleed Now every time I bash it, I use a prophylactic Baby got to jockin’ and shake moving drastic Had to let her catch me with her chink, friend Su-Chang Ooo she caught us f**in’ and turned it to a group thing I do things, new things, That we do throughout the night Never knew the chink hop, would ever be this tight Had to do this right, Cause I just owned this mic Beater started something, to keep my pockets tight Lace em for a week. Then I play the broke-road Two-weeks later, they had my pockets so swoll The whole stroll was oh-so, poppin’ when I hit it Trips, who’s getting’ wit’ it? Listen While I spit it [Verse 2 - Berner:] Bern break b**hes for mucho guapo. (Shhhh.) Salute El Chapo. I party all night on the beach in Hacko Lost 20 Grand on the tables in Tahoe Smooth operator I Don’t rock no gator J’s on my feet. Hot shell for the hater Make a b**h choose, Take her out a small town 40 cal, long round make em all fall down It’s the B-A-Y we don’t aim for the sky I put a grow room in every crib that I buy Still get my hands Dirty, the whole thing cost 30 Coke so clean, Look so pearly Yeah I let it grow out, I never pull early Young guys die, with my cutthroat furly Packs in the trunk I got weight for sale No banks please, no paper trail I put 8 in the mail, I hope it make it there AMG, Ima race you there. Don’t hate the player But my mouthpiece crazy, talk the b**h out of 80, baby girl don’t play me. (Uhh) Big bag, smoke good, where the lean at? Pop two Xans take a wing-nap Still right here where the cream at? Where the city, where the b**h, and the v at? Man, this sh** got me all lazy, In a new Mercedes, with two fly ladies Coke plug show a broke b**h no love Might slide in it with no glove Hold up, bundle so thick it don’t fold up Rolled up, smoke on stuff, I’m a stoner Weed head, from the SF City Where my buds so good and my chain so pretty Boy!

You need to sign in for commenting.
No comments yet.