Titres les plus populaires de Buddy Klein
Paroles
We gon' party, yadi, yadi, yadi, yadi
Here we go
Yo a my jess, buy you night but this i love, tricky
Just stay lickin' what I piss out of, just pimpin'
Pleasure blowin' smoke out that jug, spent that whole life in the hood
But you not thug, just playin' it too
Cop back, might spray food, so fresh and so clean
Rock plat like Ray Jude, 4 plus 2 is 6, coupe kitted up is all new
But I swear the wrist was grip, shit is all blue
See how the canvas glitz, what he spend?
Ain't no tellin', throw my chain in the air
Come down, think it was hella, overzealous
But not overweight is the man, like cellulite
Bullets leak dense in your ass, Superman figures we for green
Like kryptonite, your knees the target, literally you kryptonite
You're like damn, it's so vulgar, buddy watch your mouth
It's temperature hot, but not when the watch is out
Let's go, can it get it crumped in here?
Yo let's go, wave your hands from front to rear
Yo let's go, smoke somethin', drink it bitch
And we gon' party, yadi, yadi, yadi, yadi
Let's go, rock this shit from left to right
Let's go, feelin' shawty in them jeans this tight
Let's go, before I take you home tonight
We gon' party, yadi, yadi, yadi, yadi
You don't know my name, shit, I won't tell it again
I won't don't sell, crack, come on, sell it again
Got a problem with me, black with barb and quibi
You should wear a bodyguard, they constant with me
You don't offend me, your crew, small dogs like Toto
But guess it's loco, everything from jacob to robo
I got the lead now, I'm hopin' you follow
I got the heat too, don't get sprayed like cologne in a bottle
Can't hit in a whip, affects my drivin'
In the summer I'ma yellow like canary diamonds
I'm off for real, you never eat what's under your skirt
But if you thirsty, you know what you can drink for dessert
Now you can dance to this, I'm posin' a war
I'ma be in the bathroom, gettin' blue on the star
Won't you keep your hands wavin', yeah
I got the truck parked in the lot, I can take you away from here
Let's go, can't get a copy of this
Let's go, wake up, I'm fried to red
Let's go, smoke somethin', drink the beer
We gon' party, yadi, yadi, yadi, yadi
Let's go, pop this shit from left to right
Let's go, feelin' shawty in them jeans this tight
Let's go, before I take you home tonight
We gon' party, yadi, yadi, yadi
And yo, ready or not, I'm ready to rock
Here I come, got two chicks with me
Thirsty and she want some, my hands be chilly
Y'all don't understand me, really go out of my mind
You ain't gotta touch me to feel me, shake it, shake
Hot potato dough, go down, I made your face
Nigga, you can't hold me down, I'm about to lose it, man
Can't refuse it, man
Almond Elvaca, shots of Grey Goose Cramp
Buggin' cousin, ain't no way you too fair
Holy page, you brand for the ice blu-ray band
Cool like that, let's go, move like that
Construction hammer, go block off
Toes that clap like accidental
Scar deep like green bay pack as I pop
These holes in you like salts and crackers
Prefer them in pot of Gabbana, thick and proper
But I will take this chick with a tattoo on her knuckles
Let's go, can't get it cropped in here
Yo, let's go, work your hands from front to rear
Yo, let's go, smoke somethin', drink the beer
We gon' party, yadi, yadi, yadi, yadi
Let's go, pop this shit from left to right
Let's go, feelin' sure to get them jeans to say
Let's go, before I take you home tonight
We gon' party, yadi, yadi, yadi, yadi
I know you wanna party, yadi, party, yadi
Party, yadi, yadi, yadi, yadi, yadi
Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba
Party, yadi, party, yadi, party, yadi, yadi, yadi, yadi, yadi
Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba
Buddy Klein
Ba-ba-ba-ba-ba
Writer(s): Jonathan H. Smith, Trevor Smith, Carl Terrell Mitchell, Michael Wayne Atha, Travis L. Barker, Kevin C. Bivona
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