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PARIS Lyrics


Justin Rarri PARIS

[Chorus]
Baby I'm trappin', so just leave me 'lone, I ain't gon' say how I feel today
I been ridin' doley with my brothers, these niggas ain't cut enough, I had to get away
F..ck all these broke niggas, I ain't never really f..cked with y'all niggas
Only worried 'bout the bands and my niggas, she don't like it when I'm out with my niggas
Bitch, I'm a real life savage, f..ck a nigga hoe, took her out to Paris
And that bitch know I'm 'bout it, I get two-hunnid-fifty in a mansion
On the gang I swear we wildin', tool-er in the back, don't try no edgy shit
Told my whole team that I got 'em, f..ck on a hoe while I count these commas
I'm runnin' it up, countin' up Obama's

[Verse]
Got it all by myself, you ain't believe, we was sellin' leafs, with these hoes on me
Nigga set up with the gang, know they rock with me, big killers and them O's with me
Twenty-five just for the gold on three, can't no nigga walk, like he known with me
No number, just the gold on three (Ugh)
Got on my ass and bitch put Louis on my dawg
Broke niggas talk down on my name, just like these hoes 'cause I'on trust 'em
I got a message for all you fake niggas, that have never seen me come from nothing
Whole lotta hoes they mad at me, 'cause after I f..ck I swear I'ma dub her
Told that bitch I can fly her to Asia, how you blowin' my phone when you hate me?
Only f..ck with me 'cause I got paper, they talking on me like they know I'ma take it
Got rubies and ritz, tomorrow we baking it, and that nigga try finding converstations, I hate it
That bitch, we got them bands by our 'lone, 'lone, why they talkin' to me? I'on know y'all

[Chorus]
Baby I'm trappin', so just leave me 'lone, I ain't gon' say how I feel today
I been ridin' doley with my brothers, these niggas ain't cut enough, I had to get away
F..ck all these broke niggas, I ain't never really f..cked with y'all niggas
Only worried 'bout the bands and my niggas, she don't like it when I'm out with my niggas
Bitch, I'm a real life savage, f..ck a nigga hoe, took her out to Paris
And that bitch know I'm 'bout it, I get two-hunnid-fifty in a mansion
On the gang I swear we wildin', tool-er in the back, don't try no edgy shit
Told my whole team that I got 'em, f..ck on a hoe while I count these commas
I'm runnin' it up, countin' up Obama's
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