Do you want to know the lyrics of Drip by Tiny Meat Gang (TMG)? You're in the right place.
Drip is a song by Tiny Meat Gang (TMG) 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 Drip by Tiny Meat Gang (TMG) for a long time, start warming up your voice, because you won't be able to stop singing it.
Lemme tell you 'bout the drip (yeah)
I'm at the function uninvited, rockin' all designer sh*t (facts)
I'm sitting on a Louis throne wearin' Gucci toe socks
Staring at a sea of tj maxx, ah
I got the fendi carabiner on the water bottle (water)
Balenciaga lookin' wavy on my squash goggles (squash)
You got a satchel for your stash, that's a fad
I spend a couple grand cash on the Gucci mousepad
Yellow diamonds on my china plates, uh
Vvs on my retainer case, uh
Fendi razor when I shave my face
I got the Versace doorbell, welcome to my place
And there's a pool in the back
Got haters lookin' sad when they peep the 'berry swim cap (swim cap)
That's no cap got the givenchy right on my back
And underneath the amiri pants I rock a Gucci jockstrap
(Wait, what's up?)
Lemme tell you 'bout the drip ('bout the drip)
Credit card charged up, hope my mom don't flip (don't flip)
Gucci gun, margiela clip (margiela clip)
Got the Louis v beat and the fendi ad-lib
Lemme tell you 'bout the drip ('bout the drip)
Credit card charged up, hope my mom don't flip (doesn't flip)
Gucci gun, margiela clip (margiela clip)
Got the Louis v beat and the fendi ad-lib
You see the fit, everything I'm rockin' handmade
I got this amish b*tch, she makin' daddy marmalade
We raisin' sheep all in the back that's how I'm makin' suede
And I never pay for timberlands 'cause that's my trade
That new whip, crackin', smackin' that horse ass
My woodgrain wagon so old fashioned, I make it go fast
Your girl asked me to plow her fields 'cause she know you won't
She into animals, 'cause she f*ckin' with the G.O.A. t
My back hurtin' churnin' dope (whip it, whip it)
We in the soil growin' smoke (we tilling, tilling)
She going numb off my stroke (she want it, want it)
Organic yogurt in the throat
Drip so hard my Louis sweater moist
My di*k two-tone, call it a phantom royce
I'm only f*ckin' with designer 'roids
I'm ballin' out not like them other broke boys
Lemme tell you 'bout the drip ('bout the drip)
Credit card charged up, hope my mom don't flip (lemme tell you)
Gucci gun, margiela clip (margiela clip)
Got the Louis v beat and the fendi ad-lib
Lemme tell you 'bout the drip (about the drip)
Credit card charged up, hope my mom don't flip (lemme tell you)
Gucci gun, margiela clip (margiela clip)
I got the Louis v beat and the fendi ad-lib
Ooh, I got that Louis v on
I got that Louis v on
You got that Louis v on, know I'm f*ckin' with that Gucci
You know I'm f*ckin' with that Louis
Ohh, and I'm gonna drown in that booty
And now I'm f*ckin' with your b*tch in some Gucci
(Yeah! Haha, heh)
Otras canciones de Tiny Meat Gang (TMG)
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