Lyrics

It's gon' get you in trouble

(Oooh, oooh)

It's gon' get you in trouble

(Oooh, oooh)

Face like 10. Shape like 8. And I gotta blow you out

She taste like cake. Wait... Look... It's your birthday...

Well then you shouldn't of left home in the first place...

Came with her friends the designate driver...

And I never met a woman that's so innocent to lie...

Don't know if you believe but you the illest chick alive.

Ya brain tell em sick of it I call it ill advised.

And I love you for your mind...

But I'm afta summthin different...

For I take you any deepper...

Put a mattress on your feelins...

While I'm back here.

Just twisten shes fellin she tease she ain't ready to fuck she loves fuckin with me...

It's gon' get you in trouble

(Oooh, oooh)

It's gon' get you in trouble

(Oooh, oooh)

It's gon' get you in trouble

(Oooh, oooh)

It's gon' get you in trouble

(Oooh, oooh)

I told you...

Not to wear them pants

That make yuh ass poke like that.

Real nigga fuck around and stroke like that

I told youuu.

Not to touch right there when I'm driving this car like that

You gon' make a real nigga have a heart attack-

...

Lyrics powered by musixmatch. This Lyrics is NOT for Commercial use and only 30% of the lyrics are returned.