MIGOS Pretty Little Lady

Lyrics from robmerrera Sites MIGOS Pretty Little Lady Lyrics, singer by MIGOS

[Chorus – Quavo:]
Pretty lil lady, lil lady
I tried to put her on but she already made it
Pretty lil lady, lil lady
And she got her own, she don’t need a nigga paper
Little lady, you’re so pretty
Pretty lil lady, you’re so pretty
Pretty lil lady and she got her own
Pretty lil lady you know she got her own

[Verse 1 – Quavo:]
Pretty lady, she got her own Mercedes
And she single, she thick and grown with no babies
I really wanna take little mama home and go crazy
But she won’t let me, I can’t do nothing but respect it
She know the work from Monday through Thursday she earned it
She don’t care about my money, I sip my tea like Kermit
She don’t care bout them hunnids she pull em out the purses
Yo bitch I’m the dab king I fuck her like a virgin?
She say she got a 9-5 I know that bitch serving
It’s none of my business I ain’t worry
But if you got a nigga and you working for him
I’m a shoot that nigga, Quavo Stephen Curry

[Chorus]

[Verse 2 – Offset:]
Handle your business don’t put me in it
I know the truth you not innocent
She got excited by my Louboutins
Hop in my Lambo fuck her, we don’t speak again
She didn’t know I was a rapper
Pick up the front and back in every weekend
Gotta tell the truth shawty be dabbing
Pull up on you in the jagger with Aston
Her stomach so fat like she fasting
Look at that ass it’s fantastic
Go get that money lil bitty bi**h go get it
Now hop on that pole and get nasty
She won’t let you smash let you spin in it
It gotta be some type of benefit
Oh fuck it I don’t really need that bi**h
She a bad bi**h, she ain’t really shit
I beat it, I hit her but I can not keep one
We at the condo she smoking the reefer
Some of you lie she a beater
Nasty and know little mama in the fetal
Balenciega, alligator sneakers
I trapped on the block, hotter than a fever
I know she working she is not a keeper
She fucking all these nigga’s with monifa

[Chorus]

[Verse 3:]
I know little mama she got it, no doubt about it
But I’m trying to see bout it
Pulling Benjamin’s out her wallet
Looking real exotic, walking in Zanotti damn!
Big booty so big it’s shaped, look like an apple ooh!
She bending over bouta make me get tackled
Wanna go to… let her see the castle
Grab bout 28 folds you gon need a ladder ooh!
We smoking up cookies burning like a candle gas
Asked her where she’s from she told me Seattle
Mama live in California, said her brother doing 5 years in Savannah
Got a condo down in Alabama
She gon let me pull up be my nasty dancer beat it!
TV’s in my phantom can change the channels flex
Looking up to the sky cause it’s panoramic
I fuck with her pimping cause she really getting it fuck with ya
No Felicia, lil mama run up a ticket add it up
Dabbin might pull up to you in Givenchy damn!
Pretty lil lady, know she independent
You beat the statistics you got you a car and a house
So I can’t take you out of the trenches, nah!
Ain’t gotta add me for none of my benji’s
You bout ya riches and you mind your business
Takeoff!

[Chorus]

<br><br>

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Please log in using one of these methods to post your comment:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s