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Schoolboy Q - Gangsta in Designer (No Concept) Lyrics



Schoolboy Q - Gangsta in Designer (No Concept) Lyrics




[Chorus]
Bad bitch long hair skin pretty curvy ass
Flat stomch double ds please be the Berkin bag
Designer heels Hermes pants how you fit in that
Look at me Ray Bans I ain't tryna see you fags
Jean jacket different colored pants I ain't tryna match
Smooth watch [?] pop the dirty tag

Okay I'm her [?] say my tunes turn her on
This ain't enterprise but keep it boo let's bring it on
I'm hella high back to back I smoke alone
Unless my nigga soul around f*ck it cause let's blow a zone
Now carry on assume you niggas need a loan
Quit it with the textin' 'cause and go and make a song
My foreign ho bitch call me a maricon
Always rockin shit I nevern seen or I never known
[?] Name grown overseas fitted? Sergio Tacchini shirt shirt [?] slippers
YSL see the logo on my zipper broad
Servin me she goin down yeah I had to tip her

A-ten-hut

[Chorus]

High power bitch let em know the players here
I said high power bitch gimme gangster of the year
This for my homes on fig and homies on the tier
Always keep this shit groovy nigga na sheds a tear
Black gat black whip no tags on it
Face tats cause for sure gon throw the mask on it
Burner on my lap nigga muthaf*ck the cops
DEA and all the feds gon be my murder plot
Money cash hoes by the dozen
Never started crackin' bitches started cookin' onions
Now my weed habit always funded
And these college bros be f*ckin' do whatever have em flunkin'

A-ten-hut

[Chorus]

Bitch say she like my songs so I do her
She love a street nigga that done jumped up out the cooler
Young ass entrepreneur in the 40/40 club trippin' like I ain't from hoover
No bottles no tables I just wanna f*ck you you you and you
Yeah they know what's up only one at a time baby slow it down
Just wait up in the front and listen to the sounds
She doin' all the things you say she say do
Swallow evidence her boyfriend never had a clue
Stickin' to the script like muthaf*ckin' glue
Got you birdie on my wood like the bitches from the loo

A-ten-hut

[Chorus]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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


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




[Chorus]
Bad bitch long hair skin pretty curvy ass
Flat stomch double ds please be the Berkin bag
Designer heels Hermes pants how you fit in that
Look at me Ray Bans I ain't tryna see you fags
Jean jacket different colored pants I ain't tryna match
Smooth watch [?] pop the dirty tag

Okay I'm her [?] say my tunes turn her on
This ain't enterprise but keep it boo let's bring it on
I'm hella high back to back I smoke alone
Unless my nigga soul around f*ck it cause let's blow a zone
Now carry on assume you niggas need a loan
Quit it with the textin' 'cause and go and make a song
My foreign ho bitch call me a maricon
Always rockin shit I nevern seen or I never known
[?] Name grown overseas fitted? Sergio Tacchini shirt shirt [?] slippers
YSL see the logo on my zipper broad
Servin me she goin down yeah I had to tip her

A-ten-hut

[Chorus]

High power bitch let em know the players here
I said high power bitch gimme gangster of the year
This for my homes on fig and homies on the tier
Always keep this shit groovy nigga na sheds a tear
Black gat black whip no tags on it
Face tats cause for sure gon throw the mask on it
Burner on my lap nigga muthaf*ck the cops
DEA and all the feds gon be my murder plot
Money cash hoes by the dozen
Never started crackin' bitches started cookin' onions
Now my weed habit always funded
And these college bros be f*ckin' do whatever have em flunkin'

A-ten-hut

[Chorus]

Bitch say she like my songs so I do her
She love a street nigga that done jumped up out the cooler
Young ass entrepreneur in the 40/40 club trippin' like I ain't from hoover
No bottles no tables I just wanna f*ck you you you and you
Yeah they know what's up only one at a time baby slow it down
Just wait up in the front and listen to the sounds
She doin' all the things you say she say do
Swallow evidence her boyfriend never had a clue
Stickin' to the script like muthaf*ckin' glue
Got you birdie on my wood like the bitches from the loo

A-ten-hut

[Chorus]
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: WILLIAM T. BROWN, QUINCY MATTHEW HANLEY
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, BMG RIGHTS MANAGEMENT US, LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Peermusic Publishing

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