On our website, we have the complete lyrics of the song 1-800-SMD that you were looking for.
1-800-SMD is a song by Shotgun Willy whose lyrics have countless searches, so we decided it deserves its place on this website, along with many other song lyrics that internet users want to know.
If you've been searching for the lyrics of the song 1-800-SMD by Shotgun Willy for a long time, start warming up your voice, because you won't be able to stop singing it.
I'm a rockstar tryna fuck a pornstar
And I keep a blade, like Sword Art Online
How'd you get a sports car? I don't know, it's not mine
Any more questions? Please, hit my hotline
At 1-800-Suck-A-Motherfuckin'-Dick
Please, call me up, please, call me up
I'm young McLovin, got a super bad bitch
She want me, yeah, she want me, yeah
If I don't pick up, leave a voicemail
Rooftop chillin' at the hotel
Whole game on my back like Odel
Can't keep up, tell 'em: Oh, well
Now I'm fuckin' bitches and money and that's it
You don't like the shit that I'm makin', then suck dick
Carti man, Rick, bunch of mothеrfuckers on the ride up on my wavе
Out the way 'fore I slap a pussy boy like Brad Pitt, shit
Momma raised a boy to be a pimp, pimp
Fur coat vibin' at the Ritz, Ritz
Good role model for the kids, kids
Willy went and made another hit
Last date that I had was a court date
I'm hard, you soft like sorbet
Not parfait, no foreplay
You be lookin' sweet like a strawberry shortcake
Who you think is next up? I'm better
I got drank in my cup, like Bender
That boy said that I suck, whatever
I got rich and switched up, Bruce Jenner
At 1-800-Suck-A-Motherfuckin'-Dick
Please, call me up, please, call me up
I'm young McLovin, got a super bad bitch
She want me, yeah, she want me, yeah
If I don't pick up, leave a voicemail
Rooftop chillin' at the hotel
Whole game on my back like Odel
Can't keep up, tell 'em: Oh, well
I don't like you, you, you
Hear the phone ring, ring, ring
Everything new, new, new
Lookin' like a king, king, king
Money stack tall, tall, tall
I'm talkin' Yao Ming, Ming, Ming
Fuck it, we ball, ball, ball
I told that boy swing, swing, swing
I'm soundin' like hey, batter, batter, hey, batter, batter
Then I watch your brain splatter, splatter, brain splatter, splatter
On my way up like a ladder, no chitter-chatter
I don't give a fuck, it don't matter 'less it make my pockets fatter
You could hear the pitter-patter tappin', I'm at your door
And I'm attached with a piece of chrome, I'm just so happy to know it
That you were lackin' while my GPS was trackin' your home
And I sent it back and if you have it, tell him call at my phone
Otras canciones de Shotgun Willy
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