Oh Lord, hola, hola, hola
Oh lord, hola, hola, hola
Oh lord hallelujah, riding around with a German Luger
Bad bitch and she down to shoot ya
Only God can predict the future
Oh Lord, hola, hola, hola
Oh lord, hola, hola, hola
Lord please forgive me for my sinning
For my sinning
Hot outside all these naked women
Naked women
All this money hoe i'm winning
Hoe I'm winning
Prada, Gucci, Louie linen
Tom Ford, concord ooh he did it
No he didn't
Told that bitch i'm bout my business
Bout my business
Money the root of all evil, fly like eagle
Hoe. i. don't. need. you.
Open ya mouth let me feed you
Girl i'm dope like needle
That deep stroke oh so lethal
Smoke on this sour diesel
Get that throat in the regal
Twerk that girl i see you
Tell me that ya down for preview
Oh Lord, hola, hola, hola
Oh lord, hola, hola, hola
Oh lord hallelujah, riding around with a German Luger
Bad bitch and she down to shoot ya
Only God can predict the future
Oh Lord, hola, hola, hola
Oh lord, hola, hola, hola
Girl you sexy and you know it
She so sexy
Sip champagne, drink this Moët
Drink this Moët
She drunk off the words like a poet
Young the poet
Her body full of curves i can't control it
Can't help but swerve can't keep my focus
Losing focus
She throw it back, make it clap and she poke it
Oh she poke it
She not with the chit chat she got that bag
That bag
You trying to hit that gotta have that cash
She love that cash
She'll back it up on you drop down and gag
And gag
Have you coming back for more
Trapped in your past.
Your past
Not ya average lil yut she love it all in her gut
She even take it in the yup
Have ya spending all bucks
Steady fiending for her touch
You can never have enough
She got ball players and rap stars taking her to lunch
She in Houston, Lanta, Vegas
Money made off the lust
Running game no trust
Going broke searching for love
Oh Lord, hola, hola, hola
Oh lord, hola, hola, hola
Oh lord hallelujah , riding around with a German Luger
Bad bitch and she down to shoot ya
Only God can predict the future
Oh Lord, hola, hola, hola
Oh lord, hola, hola, hola
(Yeah)
Hola Video (MV)
Amagiri Young - Hola Lyrics
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English
Oh Lord, hola, hola, hola
Oh lord, hola, hola, hola
Oh lord hallelujah, riding around with a German Luger
Bad bitch and she down to shoot ya
Only God can predict the future
Oh Lord, hola, hola, hola
Oh lord, hola, hola, hola
Lord please forgive me for my sinning
For my sinning
Hot outside all these naked women
Naked women
All this money hoe i'm winning
Hoe I'm winning
Prada, Gucci, Louie linen
Tom Ford, concord ooh he did it
No he didn't
Told that bitch i'm bout my business
Bout my business
Money the root of all evil, fly like eagle
Hoe. i. don't. need. you.
Open ya mouth let me feed you
Girl i'm dope like needle
That deep stroke oh so lethal
Smoke on this sour diesel
Get that throat in the regal
Twerk that girl i see you
Tell me that ya down for preview
Oh Lord, hola, hola, hola
Oh lord, hola, hola, hola
Oh lord hallelujah, riding around with a German Luger
Bad bitch and she down to shoot ya
Only God can predict the future
Oh Lord, hola, hola, hola
Oh lord, hola, hola, hola
Girl you sexy and you know it
She so sexy
Sip champagne, drink this Moët
Drink this Moët
She drunk off the words like a poet
Young the poet
Her body full of curves i can't control it
Can't help but swerve can't keep my focus
Losing focus
She throw it back, make it clap and she poke it
Oh she poke it
She not with the chit chat she got that bag
That bag
You trying to hit that gotta have that cash
She love that cash
She'll back it up on you drop down and gag
And gag
Have you coming back for more
Trapped in your past.
Your past
Not ya average lil yut she love it all in her gut
She even take it in the yup
Have ya spending all bucks
Steady fiending for her touch
You can never have enough
She got ball players and rap stars taking her to lunch
She in Houston, Lanta, Vegas
Money made off the lust
Running game no trust
Going broke searching for love
Oh Lord, hola, hola, hola
Oh lord, hola, hola, hola
Oh lord hallelujah , riding around with a German Luger
Bad bitch and she down to shoot ya
Only God can predict the future
Oh Lord, hola, hola, hola
Oh lord, hola, hola, hola
(Yeah)
Oh lord, hola, hola, hola
Oh lord hallelujah, riding around with a German Luger
Bad bitch and she down to shoot ya
Only God can predict the future
Oh Lord, hola, hola, hola
Oh lord, hola, hola, hola
Lord please forgive me for my sinning
For my sinning
Hot outside all these naked women
Naked women
All this money hoe i'm winning
Hoe I'm winning
Prada, Gucci, Louie linen
Tom Ford, concord ooh he did it
No he didn't
Told that bitch i'm bout my business
Bout my business
Money the root of all evil, fly like eagle
Hoe. i. don't. need. you.
Open ya mouth let me feed you
Girl i'm dope like needle
That deep stroke oh so lethal
Smoke on this sour diesel
Get that throat in the regal
Twerk that girl i see you
Tell me that ya down for preview
Oh Lord, hola, hola, hola
Oh lord, hola, hola, hola
Oh lord hallelujah, riding around with a German Luger
Bad bitch and she down to shoot ya
Only God can predict the future
Oh Lord, hola, hola, hola
Oh lord, hola, hola, hola
Girl you sexy and you know it
She so sexy
Sip champagne, drink this Moët
Drink this Moët
She drunk off the words like a poet
Young the poet
Her body full of curves i can't control it
Can't help but swerve can't keep my focus
Losing focus
She throw it back, make it clap and she poke it
Oh she poke it
She not with the chit chat she got that bag
That bag
You trying to hit that gotta have that cash
She love that cash
She'll back it up on you drop down and gag
And gag
Have you coming back for more
Trapped in your past.
Your past
Not ya average lil yut she love it all in her gut
She even take it in the yup
Have ya spending all bucks
Steady fiending for her touch
You can never have enough
She got ball players and rap stars taking her to lunch
She in Houston, Lanta, Vegas
Money made off the lust
Running game no trust
Going broke searching for love
Oh Lord, hola, hola, hola
Oh lord, hola, hola, hola
Oh lord hallelujah , riding around with a German Luger
Bad bitch and she down to shoot ya
Only God can predict the future
Oh Lord, hola, hola, hola
Oh lord, hola, hola, hola
(Yeah)