Soundtracks - Wishy Washy by Migos lyrics

[Hook - Quavo:] You know these hoes wishy washy They'll f**k your partner Take all of your guala, take your guala You know these hoes wishy washy They hop in my bed, they can't wait to open their legs They walk in the mall, they can't wait to spend all my bread Wishy washy, wishy washy, these hoes wishy washy Wishy washy, these hoes wishy washy Wishy washy, I can not trust them Wishy washy, I can not love them You gotta watch them, these hoes wishy washy [Verse 1 - Quavo:] Let me tell you a story 'Bout this lil' bit named Tamar She'll let you smash for sure today And then smash your partner tomorrow She'll ask you can you take care of her That'll cost you 'bout a couple hundred dollars Everybody know lil' mama on go Everybody call her hundred gobbler Got hoes on hoes like a rasta Is it because of my posture? But I know it's cause a n***a's dollars She got a baby, no, I'm not the father She too wishy washy, she'll go in your pocket And break your wallet, and you know she got it But I got the knowledge to go tell her stop it And she shake like an 8 hit a corner pocket You can not play me You know you're too wishy washy Kick her out the house politely We noticed you was too excited No we not going for it, no we not going You're too wishy washy lil' b**ch and you know it Ain't got time for a kid, the lil' b**ch at the front door [Hook] [Verse 2 - Offset:] These hoes wishy washy Ain't no doubt about it Quick to put your finger in a young n***a's wallet And I know you f**kin' my partner Quick to f**k a n***a for a couple hunna High cla** pimpin' these n***as, she got the formula s**in' my anaconda, got the flower aroma And on my mama I'm not f**kin' these b**ches without a condom Wishy washy Cut these b**ches off like hibachi I'm f**kin' her and her whole posse If you wanna f**k her then you gotta pay deposit She givin' up her p**y for the profit Her mama keep beggin' her to stop it She really wanna be on red carpets These b**ches ain't sh*t, it's in the Bible Talkin' 'bout you got a baby in your stomach These b**ches are funny They're tryna take a n***a's money I ain't got no feelings for no b**ches, I'm numbing Up to par, my swag from London These b**ches bad, ain't worth nothin' I'm just sayin', I can see your plan You wanna get married to a rich man [Hook] [Verse 3 - Takeoff:] I can't f**k with you b**ches, you wishy washy Neiman Marcus shoppin', she want me to spoil her rotten But I know that she's plottin' mama said don't trust nobody This b**ch is a vegetarian, all she want is broccoli I told her if she knew better, she would prolly do better That Rolex is a Skylander, got gold all on my Margielas Pullin' up in a Bentley, no Mr. Bentley She askin' me where my umbrella Fox fur, put on my mink, chinchilla Flawless diamonds, it's gon' be a cold winter, burr, burr Don't wanna f**k you, lil' mama, I just want head These b**ches, they can't wait to open their legs But soon as she pull in my driveway Pull up to my front door, she got the panties in her hand She know how to work the pots and pans She watchin' me like I'm on demand She the bomb, Osama Bin (Osama Bin Laden!) [Hook]