The Appetite Songtext

Once again
Show it, show it, show it, show it


You a weapon, I'm up in the bed blowin' head
My shit a hundred percent
I'm a boss, I'm not a underling
Got a hundred links in the infantry (Let 'em in)
My niggas gon' ride until the engines cease
Victory is ceased, bitches striptease
I might try a 50 on a pinky ring
Pull up like, "Where the hoes?"
Take out a-holes
Don't you ever compare me to those sambos
Cut the top off the rose, call it Amber Rose
I got so many hoes I'm like the lead singer in Cameo
But I don't taste like candy though
Tanned peacoat tapped in, sold Miami coke
Cherry nine elevens, got a lot of weapons
My lady thighs make her look hind-legged
Exotic pet, she like a wild leopard
F it, I might let off a couple hollow heads for leverage
This is effortless, you bein' extra
Niggas say, "Wavy", that's an S curl
Punt, make make your chest curl
Finesse your girl, you leave a flesh world
Sends you up, boy

Ocean's Eleven type,
If we see it, we want it, then we take it
Blame the appetite for
Sex, money, drugs, sex, money, drugs
Ocean's Eleven type,
If we see it, we want it, then we take it
Blame the appetite for
Sex, money, drugs, sex, money, drugs
Sex, money, drugs, sex, money, drugs
Sex, money, drugs, sex, money, drugs

Uh, Mr. Bubble

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