Scott Bradlee & Postmodern Jukebox - Anaconda lyrics

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Scott Bradlee & Postmodern Jukebox - Anaconda lyrics

Boy toy named Troy used to live in Detroit Big dope dealer money, he was getting some coins Was in shootouts with the law, but he live in a palace Bought Alexander McQueen, he was keeping me stylish Now that's real, real, real Gun in my purse, but I came dressed to k** Who wanna go first? I had'em push daffodils I'm happy as hell, I only took half the squil I'm on some dumb shhht By the way, what you're sayin'? I ain't missing no meals I come through and hit him in my automobile He can eat it with its grills, keep on telling me to chill Dun-d-d-dun-dun My anaconda don't, my anaconda don't My anaconda don't want none unless you got buns, hun This dude named Michael used to ride motorcycles He was bigger than a tower, I ain't talking about Eiffel's It was a real countryman, let me play with his rifle I put him to sleep, and now he calling me NyQuil Now that bang, bang, bang I let him hit it like working on chain gang Keep rolling crops, like his name Romaine And when we done, I make him buy me Balmain I'm on some dumb shhht By the way, what he's sayin'? I ain't missing no meals I come through and hit him in my automobile He can eat it with its grills, keep telling me to chill Dun-d-d-dun-dun My anaconda don't, my anaconda don't My anaconda don't want none unless you got buns, hun Oh my gosh, look at that banjo Oh my gosh, look at that banjo Little in the middle, but she got much back My anaconda don't, my anaconda don'tMy anaconda don't want none unless you got buns, hun