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B-Lovee - My Everything (Part II) Lyrics



B-Lovee - My Everything (Part II) Lyrics
Official




[ Featuring A Boogie Wit da Hoodie ]

Ooh, ooh
(And this beat from cash, not from YouTube)
Grrah, grrah

She actin' naughty, she want me to spank it (ah)
Bad lil' bitch, not basic
Give you my time, you better not waste it (grrah-grrah)
We catch a opp, no waitin', like (like what?)
We just gon' up in broad day, shit (uh-huh)
Feelin' like Wick 'cause the way that I aim it, like
Ain't no where you can go when them bullets start rainin'

No I ain't mad, that ain't my ho, like (that ain't my ho)
He think he it, but he not though (he not though)
She let me hit in a Tahoe (she let me hit in a Tahoe)
Made eighty packs off a iPhone (uh-huh)
F*ckin' her good, so she keep callin' my phone (uh-huh)
Hit that girl, left stuck in a knot though
I know she gon' leave if I ever go pop though

It's okay, just call me when you runnin' out of money (huh)
She like stars in double-Rs, I like Bugattis (huh)
All her friends call me Boogie so she call me Artist, huh
But f*ck all that lovey-dovey, all that shit you learned from me
Don't you say it unless you're certain
Behind Maybach curtains I be steady sippin' syrup
Hoodie on, ring turn purple, different angles like I'm Kurt
Hit the right positions, now she f*ckin' up her words
At the end of the night go missin', now that's love from a distance
Look

And I put that on bro, I ain't trippin' (like what?)
Talkin' actors, they know who to mention
I could tell that they know that I'm gifted (know that I'm gifted)
Her shit water, no faucet, it's drippin' (it's drippin')
Oh, act bad then, I'ma bend that ass over and smack it (I'ma smack it)
Oh, act bad then, get to throwin' them bullets like Madden (like it's Madden)
She wanna go to the mall and go grab shit
She keep talkin' her shit 'cause her ass did
It get tough in the spot, better fasten (boy, you better fasten up)
Niggas hide when it's action (niggas hide out)
Watch her ride, shit like magic
Bullets fire, shit get tragic

Why she go missin' on me
Show me some' different, baby
You don't wanna get to know me
If I get this Rollie for you they gon' end up hatin' on you
Girl, I don't do dates
But this big-body 'burban, girl, I sent it for you
I don't even trust bitches
How'd I end up venting to you? Huh?
Police on my body like I got a shottie with me
She actin' naughty, I know she want me to spank it (vroom, vroom, vroom)
Hop in this 'Rari we can be fly together
F*ck bein' basic
Lotta niggas wanna talk violence with us
But I never say shit

She actin' naughty, she want me to spank it (ah)
Bad lil' bitch, not basic
Give you my time, you better not waste it (grrah-grrah)
We catch a opp, no waitin', like (like what?)
We just gon' up in broad day, shit (uh-huh)
Feelin' like Wick 'cause the way that I aim it, like
Ain't no where you can go when them bullets start rainin'

No I ain't mad, that ain't my ho, like (that ain't my ho)
He think he it, but he not though (he not though)
She let me hit in a Tahoe (she let me hit in a Tahoe)
Made eighty packs off a iPhone (uh-huh)
F*ckin' her good, so she keep callin' my phone (uh-huh)
Hit that girl, left stuck in a knot though
I know she gon' leave if I ever go pop though

It's okay, just call me when you runnin' out of money (huh)
She like stars in double-Rs, I like Bugattis (huh)
All her friends call me Boogie so she call me Artist
But f*ck all that lovey-dovey, all that shit you learned from me
Don't you say it unless you're certain
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.


English

Ooh, ooh
(And this beat from cash, not from YouTube)
Grrah, grrah

She actin' naughty, she want me to spank it (ah)
Bad lil' bitch, not basic
Give you my time, you better not waste it (grrah-grrah)
We catch a opp, no waitin', like (like what?)
We just gon' up in broad day, shit (uh-huh)
Feelin' like Wick 'cause the way that I aim it, like
Ain't no where you can go when them bullets start rainin'

No I ain't mad, that ain't my ho, like (that ain't my ho)
He think he it, but he not though (he not though)
She let me hit in a Tahoe (she let me hit in a Tahoe)
Made eighty packs off a iPhone (uh-huh)
F*ckin' her good, so she keep callin' my phone (uh-huh)
Hit that girl, left stuck in a knot though
I know she gon' leave if I ever go pop though

It's okay, just call me when you runnin' out of money (huh)
She like stars in double-Rs, I like Bugattis (huh)
All her friends call me Boogie so she call me Artist, huh
But f*ck all that lovey-dovey, all that shit you learned from me
Don't you say it unless you're certain
Behind Maybach curtains I be steady sippin' syrup
Hoodie on, ring turn purple, different angles like I'm Kurt
Hit the right positions, now she f*ckin' up her words
At the end of the night go missin', now that's love from a distance
Look

And I put that on bro, I ain't trippin' (like what?)
Talkin' actors, they know who to mention
I could tell that they know that I'm gifted (know that I'm gifted)
Her shit water, no faucet, it's drippin' (it's drippin')
Oh, act bad then, I'ma bend that ass over and smack it (I'ma smack it)
Oh, act bad then, get to throwin' them bullets like Madden (like it's Madden)
She wanna go to the mall and go grab shit
She keep talkin' her shit 'cause her ass did
It get tough in the spot, better fasten (boy, you better fasten up)
Niggas hide when it's action (niggas hide out)
Watch her ride, shit like magic
Bullets fire, shit get tragic

Why she go missin' on me
Show me some' different, baby
You don't wanna get to know me
If I get this Rollie for you they gon' end up hatin' on you
Girl, I don't do dates
But this big-body 'burban, girl, I sent it for you
I don't even trust bitches
How'd I end up venting to you? Huh?
Police on my body like I got a shottie with me
She actin' naughty, I know she want me to spank it (vroom, vroom, vroom)
Hop in this 'Rari we can be fly together
F*ck bein' basic
Lotta niggas wanna talk violence with us
But I never say shit

She actin' naughty, she want me to spank it (ah)
Bad lil' bitch, not basic
Give you my time, you better not waste it (grrah-grrah)
We catch a opp, no waitin', like (like what?)
We just gon' up in broad day, shit (uh-huh)
Feelin' like Wick 'cause the way that I aim it, like
Ain't no where you can go when them bullets start rainin'

No I ain't mad, that ain't my ho, like (that ain't my ho)
He think he it, but he not though (he not though)
She let me hit in a Tahoe (she let me hit in a Tahoe)
Made eighty packs off a iPhone (uh-huh)
F*ckin' her good, so she keep callin' my phone (uh-huh)
Hit that girl, left stuck in a knot though
I know she gon' leave if I ever go pop though

It's okay, just call me when you runnin' out of money (huh)
She like stars in double-Rs, I like Bugattis (huh)
All her friends call me Boogie so she call me Artist
But f*ck all that lovey-dovey, all that shit you learned from me
Don't you say it unless you're certain
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Artist Julius Dubose, Cash Cobain, Fred Wesley, Hachidai Nakamura, James Brown, John Starks, Linda Creed, Quayshawn Cannon, Rokusuke Ei, Thomas Randolph Bell
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC

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