Iggy Azalea - OMG (feat. Wiz Khalifa) (2018)

Текст песни Iggy Azalea - OMG (feat. Wiz Khalifa)

Intro:
Got it on smash
Got it on smash

Pre-Chorus:
Think he ain't got a chance with a bitch like me, he ain't rich enough, rich enough (no)
Calls need to stop he ain't calling 'bout the guap, I ain't picking up, picking up (brrp)
Y'all little hoes can't sit by the pool, you ain't thick enough, thick enough (go)
Weave so long and the pussy so wet, gon’ eat it up, beat it up

Chorus:
Oh My God, this shit different
Oh My God, Gucci slippers
Oh My God, my wrist vicious
Oh My God, might hurt yo feelings
Oh My God, this shit different
Oh My God, Gucci slippers
Oh My God, my wrist vicious
Oh My God, might hurt yo feelings

Verse-1:
He said it tastes so good, I should just serve it on a plate
Bought that Wraith fresh off the lot, that bitch ain't even got no plates
I be looking at the stars while my pussy in his face
How the fuck could I fall off? I get 250 just to play
They taking shots like, Plaxico
I'm riding waves in, Mexico
You bitches gassed like, Texaco
Ain't bout that bag, no hemaphone
Make sure your money match your mouth before you ever talk 'bout me
And if you want me to pull up
Just know I'ma need a feet (yah!)

Pre-Chorus:
Think he ain't got a chance with a bitch like me, he ain't rich enough, rich enough (no)
Calls need to stop he ain't calling 'bout the guap, I ain't picking up, picking up (brrp)
Y'all little hoes can't sit by the pool, you ain't thick enough, thick enough (go)
Weave so long and the pussy so wet, gon’ eat it up, beat it up

Chorus:
Oh My God, this shit different
Oh My God, Gucci slippers
Oh My God, my wrist vicious
Oh My God, might hurt yo feelings
Oh My God, this shit different
Oh My God, Gucci slippers
Oh My God, my wrist vicious (yeah)
Oh My God, might hurt yo feelings (yeah)

Verse-2:
Smoking on some Sticky Icky, need a bitch like Iggy
Hit my phone up for quickee, no shake but I'm picky
Told that bitch to ride my dick, she tried to pop a wheelie
Got so much ass, on a traffic stop to see it
I be rolling tropical weed up
I be on a flight with my feet up
I get on the track and I eat it up
Get her in the bed, I beat it up
Bang, I get the bitch and I change her
Got you bringing weed on the plane
Everywhere, they throwing up gang (hahahaha)

Pre-Chorus:
Think he ain't got a chance with a bitch like me, he ain't rich enough, rich enough (ah, no)
Calls need to stop he ain't calling 'bout the guap, I ain't picking up, picking up (brrp)
Y'all little hoes can't sit by the pool, you ain't thick enough, thick enough (go)
Weave so long and the pussy so wet, gon’ eat it up, beat it up

Chorus:
Oh My God, this shit different
Oh My God, Gucci slippers
Oh My God, my wrist vicious
Oh My God, might hurt yo feelings
Oh My God, this shit different
Oh My God, Gucci slippers
Oh My God, my wrist vicious (yeah)
Oh My God, might hurt yo feelings (yeah)

Outro:
Oh My God
Biggest bitch ever!