Bugatti Beez - Commas (Remix) lyrics

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Bugatti Beez - Commas (Remix) lyrics

[Verse 1: Bugatti Beez] Alright let's keep it simple Let's f** up some commas, I am the bomb like Osama I'm probably f**in' your momma, there's so many fish in the sea But I'm a piranha, so them n***as gonnas I'm gunna go 0-100 n***a real quick, real sh** Growin' up I was broke so I started rappin' Now I'm surround by banks like I'm Will Smith n***a hit the k** switch When I was writtin' and sh** I was hotta than the b**h I take pride when I spit, I got so many haters They blockin' the beautiful women from gettin' a chance to come ride on the dick Man I'm mad as a b**h These other n***as rappin' but man they are trash at this sh** But I hit the (bull?) f** a spaz on the cla** Like when teachers get mad when you talkin' they sh** So don't talk when I'm rappin' Listen, my j**elry really expensive, I might be gifted I might be cold, but you gotta [?] a children Only thing that's flaky about me is when I got dandruff n***a every time I k** instrumentals I reset the standards, n***a Let's f** up some comma, aye [x2] [Verse 2: Bugatti Beez] But back to the beat From a hood where if you don't get them, best believe they comin' back with the heat If for some reason you just gotta get attached to the street Damn, now you got your back in the street Ey man honestly I just find (financial?) unique Motha f** your opinion, they (natchured?) this beat But that black on black Honda decrease Now the po-lice got more blacks together than Black People Meet The flows authentic, hell no I ain't rent it My windows are tinted, presidential of course, like Obama got in it I put that on my momma's momma's that I'm finna get it I could of said grandma but it's not my damn fault That you motha f**as so simple minded when I rhymes with that you'll go hit the f**in' rewind (Branded?), I chokin' n***as with the bars I hope that someone 'round you knows the heimlich, maneuver Watch me pick this sh** up like a poopa scoopa If the b**h foreign of course I scoop her Hatin' on me you're a f**in' losa Don't be mad at me because writin' on the P, A, D, got me a nice P, A, D A, D, D dopeness, subtract that hoe sh** Multiply the numba of people that slept with you and keep the one above you right in front of you Tryin' to get M's upside down like a W Pretty handsome, girls say that I'm lovable Oh you thought I said (that rappa?), you gullible All the real n***as like 'n***a I f** witchu' Now I could go on and on and on and on And ironic cause I'd still go off Better pray to the most high on that the steel go off Cause the motha f**in' steel goes off, (la [x7]) I'm tired of doin' this, this rap sh**, I'm pursuin' it I overheard that the (rug?) game was fallin' apart Well f** it n***a, I'll be the glue to it sh**tin' on rappers, I am the master Spreadin' the word like I am a pastor Ball 'till I fall, the boy is a cancer I am a cancer, spittin' that cancer Now I don't know how in the f** I've been doin' exactly whatever the f** I've been doin' I swear to the mic and I bring yay to the mic so of course I do not have the answers boy Don't f** up my pradas, aye [x2] [Outro] Don't f** up this motha f**in' pradas n***a Ah Like I... I ain't got no f**in' pradas...