Lyrics Labs
Poppin Grease Lyrics - Artist : BlueBucksClan
Hoes tellin' me I changed, I ain't the same me (Same me)
Leave the club, the baddest bitch sayin', "Take me" (Take me)
Finna fuck these niggas up like I'm Tay Keith (Tay Keith)
Makin' niggas go home, niggas Roger lame (Go home, Roger)
Niggas hoes, I could tell you got your mama ways (Got your mama way)
I'm a skinny nigga, flex like I'm Luke Cage
Bucks Clan got more blues than the Duke game (Duke game)
Big bags, playin' Madden, fuck a shootin' game

Finna treat this bitch face like the shooting range (Shooting range)
Bitches fuck the first night, ain't no talkin' stage (Talkin' stage)
You ain't cash out on that foreign, boy, your mama paid (You lyin')
We them niggas, yeah, we known for talkin' reckless (Talkin' reckless)
Yeah, we known for havin' bitches in our section (On my mama)
She from the city, but that ass came from Texas (God damn)
She want my baby, yeah, she ridin' me aggressive (Yeah, aggressive)
I'm that nigga, girl, don't miss out on your blessing (Said don't miss it)
Bitches goin' all through my phone, who you textin'? (Who you textin'?)
I just got her whole body done, I'm investin' (I'm investin')
She gave me that weak-ass head, could've kept it (That shit trash)

Ayy, suck me through my drawers, got me rock steady (Ayy)
Drippin' off my balls, got my Glock ready (Ayy)
Bitch ain't got no ass, but she top-heavy (Top-heavy)
Talkin' stupid through my pad like I'm Knott's Berry (Uh)
I don't cop reggie (No), pockets potbelly (What else?)
Made that bitch count on me like I'm God-daddy (Pops)
I need tips in my drill, I am not Nelly (No)
Take your nigga take these shots like he diabetic (Ah)

Pullin' up in big foreigns, ain't no box Chevy (No Chevy)
I be makin' bitches leave when she not ready (I'm not ready)
She keep askin' if I care, I said, "Not really" (Not really)
Quarterbackin' in the field, make sure my line ready (Yeah, we ready)
Might want her, but ain't a bitch that I need, though (Don't need her)
She ain't gettin' dick, but she swallow seeds, though (Swallow kids)
Bad bitches blowin' up my phone, I let it ring, though (Let it ring)
In the Cullinan with RJ on San Pedro

Quarantine, still blowin' bands for no reason (For no reason)
I just set the passing record, had a great season (Great season)
Told her if she fuck up one time, then I'm leavin' (Yeah, I'm gone)
If I can't shoot this last thousand, I can't break even (Hell no)
Bad bitches blowin' up my line, my shit ringin' (God damn)
Ballin' on these niggas like I play for New England (Play for New England)
Said he got a whole pint left, I'm like, "Bring it" (Yeah, bring it)
Stomp a nigga all in his shit, now he screamin' (Niggas weird)

Bitch look good 'til her ankles, she got bad feet (Bear claws)
And her nigga take dick like he Raz-B (Pause)
He flew them chickens to the A like a Zaxby's
She brought her nigga, she gon' wave, Free Max B (Woo)
He put a cape on for that bitch and got knocked out (Knocked out)
I put a tape around my grip, nigga, watch out (Watch out)
I'm just loadin' up these blowers like a washhouse (Woo)
Beat your nigga 'til he snorin' like he Wocked out

Bitch said she don't suck dick, yeah, I walked out (Say no more)
Yeah, her head stupid like a dropout (Like a dropout)
Cost a dollar, nigga, I just pull the guap out (Guap out)
Niggas all my kids now, I'm finna ground one (Finna ground one)
My bitch like bitches, look, bae, I found one (Look, bae)

Pick one and pound one, make me a proud one (Yeah)
Jump out my bed, I still drip with a towel on
Bitch, you got legs, run it up while I count up
Long rifle, .223, two enemies
Pull up with paper, we poppin' grease (Grease)
Long rifle, .223, two enemies
Pull up with paper, we poppin' grease, uh

Copyright © 2009-2024
Privacy policy - DMCA Policy - Contact Us