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OHMAMI Video (MV)




Performed By: Chase Atlantic
Language: English
Length: 3:46
Written by: Mitchel Cave, Clinton Cave, Christian Anthony




Chase Atlantic - OHMAMI Lyrics
Official




Bitch, I'm f*ckin' styling
Yeah styling (ooh-ooh-ooh, oh)
Yeah (whoa)

Cuban link, diamond cross
I got a Spanish chiquita
"No habla inglés," not at all, no
Cut up three lines like Adidas
She clean that shit up with her nose
And I got a kilo, man
Kilimanjaro, baby, this a mountain of coke

Ooh, mami, this a new 'Rari
Hit 150 on the dash, I bent the corner
Then she bent it for me sideways, uh
I might have to f*ck her on the highway, yeah
Uh, whoa
Ooh, mami, I got blue Molly
I put Louis V, Supreme on top of Murakami
Bitch, I'm f*ckin' styling, yeah
I might say I love her, but I'm lying, yeah
Yeah, whoa
Oh, no, no, no
Yeah, yeah

Mamacita, I can see the devil in your eyes
Muy bonita, tú quieres estar by my side
She might make me stay in for the night
For the night, oh
Call María, let's get drunk
I haven't been out for months
Got a two-liter in the back and another bottle in the trunk
Columbian gold in the front seat
The foreign girls showing me love
Telling your friends that you hate me
But I know that you can't get enough

Ooh, mami, this a new 'Rari
Hit 150 on the dash, I bent the corner
Now, now bend it for me sideways, uh
I might have to f*ck her on the highway, yeah
Yeah, whoa

Oh, oh my
I don't wanna take this call
I'm too high, red eyes
She might even take the fall if I ask her
Baby, pop it backwards
Acting extra but she never been an actress, yeah
Ah, shit
Oh yeah-yeah-yeah, whoa
Oh yeah-yeah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah
Oh yeah-yeah-ah-ah-ah, shit
Oh, shit

I said, "Ooh mami, this a new Rari'
Bitch, I'm f*ckin' styling
I don't need no stylist
All of my dawgs, they be wildin'

Shit
F*ck a double date
Double-down on everything I say
You can bring your friend, but she don't get to stay
Guarantee she end up leaving anyway
Never play, dawg, watch out
Dark flames when my doors swing out
Switch lanes on a one-way route
Switchblade make your blood pour out
Make it rain in a drought
Hop in, hop out
Motherf*cker, get down when I say "Down"
Brown duffle bag, I fill it up with 30 clip rounds
Drop shit, pop wheelies, f*ck a breakdown
I don't give a
Bitch, I'ma slide either way
Please do not try me today
I see the static from a mile away
She wanna f*ck me, okay?
She wanna know how it taste, yeah, yeah

F*ck all that talking, I'm restless, yeah
I pray that I don't get arrested
Pray that she wake up for breakfast
Pray that she wake up for breakfast
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ 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.




Bitch, I'm f*ckin' styling
Yeah styling (ooh-ooh-ooh, oh)
Yeah (whoa)

Cuban link, diamond cross
I got a Spanish chiquita
"No habla inglés," not at all, no
Cut up three lines like Adidas
She clean that shit up with her nose
And I got a kilo, man
Kilimanjaro, baby, this a mountain of coke

Ooh, mami, this a new 'Rari
Hit 150 on the dash, I bent the corner
Then she bent it for me sideways, uh
I might have to f*ck her on the highway, yeah
Uh, whoa
Ooh, mami, I got blue Molly
I put Louis V, Supreme on top of Murakami
Bitch, I'm f*ckin' styling, yeah
I might say I love her, but I'm lying, yeah
Yeah, whoa
Oh, no, no, no
Yeah, yeah

Mamacita, I can see the devil in your eyes
Muy bonita, tú quieres estar by my side
She might make me stay in for the night
For the night, oh
Call María, let's get drunk
I haven't been out for months
Got a two-liter in the back and another bottle in the trunk
Columbian gold in the front seat
The foreign girls showing me love
Telling your friends that you hate me
But I know that you can't get enough

Ooh, mami, this a new 'Rari
Hit 150 on the dash, I bent the corner
Now, now bend it for me sideways, uh
I might have to f*ck her on the highway, yeah
Yeah, whoa

Oh, oh my
I don't wanna take this call
I'm too high, red eyes
She might even take the fall if I ask her
Baby, pop it backwards
Acting extra but she never been an actress, yeah
Ah, shit
Oh yeah-yeah-yeah, whoa
Oh yeah-yeah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah-ah
Oh yeah-yeah-ah-ah-ah, shit
Oh, shit

I said, "Ooh mami, this a new Rari'
Bitch, I'm f*ckin' styling
I don't need no stylist
All of my dawgs, they be wildin'

Shit
F*ck a double date
Double-down on everything I say
You can bring your friend, but she don't get to stay
Guarantee she end up leaving anyway
Never play, dawg, watch out
Dark flames when my doors swing out
Switch lanes on a one-way route
Switchblade make your blood pour out
Make it rain in a drought
Hop in, hop out
Motherf*cker, get down when I say "Down"
Brown duffle bag, I fill it up with 30 clip rounds
Drop shit, pop wheelies, f*ck a breakdown
I don't give a
Bitch, I'ma slide either way
Please do not try me today
I see the static from a mile away
She wanna f*ck me, okay?
She wanna know how it taste, yeah, yeah

F*ck all that talking, I'm restless, yeah
I pray that I don't get arrested
Pray that she wake up for breakfast
Pray that she wake up for breakfast
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Mitchel Cave, Clinton Cave, Christian Anthony
Copyright: Lyrics © Songtrust Ave, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.


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