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Destroy Lonely - if looks could kill Lyrics



Destroy Lonely - if looks could kill Lyrics
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If looks could kill

Baby, I'm the fashion demon
Ridin' down Candler Road and I'm speedin'
I got hella hoes tryna f*ck me and my bros (my bros)
I got hella shows lined up, I'm on the road (on the road)
I get hella green, yeah, I get hella 'chos (hella 'chos)
These niggas green as f*ck, I'm 'bout to get over (get over)
No, bitch, I'm not greenin' out, you can not get over (can't get over)
I just like to ball hard, ball like Dellavedova (Dellavedova)
Don't shop at Dover's, don't shop at Nieman's (nah, nah)
Don't commit treason (nah)
Everything I do is for a reason
Everything I do is so strategic (is so strategic)
Baby, please don't leave me, I don't need you
And I know that you don't need me
I done got the flyest, I'm on a date with the moon this evening
She act cool but I know she evil, so deceiving (so deceiving)
If looks could kill that makes every day Halloween, man (it's Halloween)

I get bitches, I don't need no wingman (no wingman)
I get riches, I don't sell no weed, man (not right now)
I smoke dope by the pound, yeah, for real, huh
I'm on the top of the mountain, king of the hill, uh (we top floor)
I don't like no Swisher, I like Grabba Leaf, lil' nigga (grabba, grabba, grabba)
Real deal codeine sipper, walk 'round with a purple liver, huh
I'm a fashion killer, I'm a shit popper, babe (shit popper, popper)
I'm a real big baller but won't let no lil' bitch play with me
I'm a pussy killer after I hit it, might let her lay with me
She a fashion killer, check out how she walkin'
Yeah, look, she slayin' it
My boy got a trigger finger
He ready to pull it, so please don't play with him
I smoke 'til my lungs black, lil' bitch
I take that lil' blunt and I face that shit (face it)
I look at my demons and face 'em (face 'em)
Take the Chrome Heart Timbs and I lace 'em
I'm walkin' through Hell
I got an FN loaded up with a laser
My bitch rockin' Chanel, I put on Balenciaga for all of my haters
I gotta go, bitch, I'll see you later (go)
I'm the Dark Lord, real soul taker
I'm the Top Floor Boss, a lil' player (boss)
I put on big pants, real deal raver (real raver)
(Rave, raver)

Baby, I'm the fashion demon
Ridin' down Candler Road and I'm speedin' (speedin')
I got hella hoes tryna f*ck me and my bros (my bros)
I got hella shows lined up, I'm on the road (on the road)
I get hella green, yeah, I get hella 'chos (hella 'chos)
These niggas green as f*ck, I'm 'bout to get over (get over)
No, bitch, I'm not greenin' out, you can not get over (can't get over)
I just like to ball hard, ball like Dellavedova (Dellavedova)
Don't shop at Dover's, don't shop at Nieman's (nah, nah)
Don't commit treason (nah)
Everything I do is for a reason
Everything I do is so strategic (is so strategic)
Baby, please don't leave me, I don't need you
And I know that you don't need me
I done got the flyest, I'm on a date with the moon this evening (yeah)
She act cool but I know she evil, so deceiving (so deceiving)
If looks could kill that makes every day Halloween, man (it's Halloween)

(Ayy, Clayco, cook that motherf*cker up)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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If looks could kill

Baby, I'm the fashion demon
Ridin' down Candler Road and I'm speedin'
I got hella hoes tryna f*ck me and my bros (my bros)
I got hella shows lined up, I'm on the road (on the road)
I get hella green, yeah, I get hella 'chos (hella 'chos)
These niggas green as f*ck, I'm 'bout to get over (get over)
No, bitch, I'm not greenin' out, you can not get over (can't get over)
I just like to ball hard, ball like Dellavedova (Dellavedova)
Don't shop at Dover's, don't shop at Nieman's (nah, nah)
Don't commit treason (nah)
Everything I do is for a reason
Everything I do is so strategic (is so strategic)
Baby, please don't leave me, I don't need you
And I know that you don't need me
I done got the flyest, I'm on a date with the moon this evening
She act cool but I know she evil, so deceiving (so deceiving)
If looks could kill that makes every day Halloween, man (it's Halloween)

I get bitches, I don't need no wingman (no wingman)
I get riches, I don't sell no weed, man (not right now)
I smoke dope by the pound, yeah, for real, huh
I'm on the top of the mountain, king of the hill, uh (we top floor)
I don't like no Swisher, I like Grabba Leaf, lil' nigga (grabba, grabba, grabba)
Real deal codeine sipper, walk 'round with a purple liver, huh
I'm a fashion killer, I'm a shit popper, babe (shit popper, popper)
I'm a real big baller but won't let no lil' bitch play with me
I'm a pussy killer after I hit it, might let her lay with me
She a fashion killer, check out how she walkin'
Yeah, look, she slayin' it
My boy got a trigger finger
He ready to pull it, so please don't play with him
I smoke 'til my lungs black, lil' bitch
I take that lil' blunt and I face that shit (face it)
I look at my demons and face 'em (face 'em)
Take the Chrome Heart Timbs and I lace 'em
I'm walkin' through Hell
I got an FN loaded up with a laser
My bitch rockin' Chanel, I put on Balenciaga for all of my haters
I gotta go, bitch, I'll see you later (go)
I'm the Dark Lord, real soul taker
I'm the Top Floor Boss, a lil' player (boss)
I put on big pants, real deal raver (real raver)
(Rave, raver)

Baby, I'm the fashion demon
Ridin' down Candler Road and I'm speedin' (speedin')
I got hella hoes tryna f*ck me and my bros (my bros)
I got hella shows lined up, I'm on the road (on the road)
I get hella green, yeah, I get hella 'chos (hella 'chos)
These niggas green as f*ck, I'm 'bout to get over (get over)
No, bitch, I'm not greenin' out, you can not get over (can't get over)
I just like to ball hard, ball like Dellavedova (Dellavedova)
Don't shop at Dover's, don't shop at Nieman's (nah, nah)
Don't commit treason (nah)
Everything I do is for a reason
Everything I do is so strategic (is so strategic)
Baby, please don't leave me, I don't need you
And I know that you don't need me
I done got the flyest, I'm on a date with the moon this evening (yeah)
She act cool but I know she evil, so deceiving (so deceiving)
If looks could kill that makes every day Halloween, man (it's Halloween)

(Ayy, Clayco, cook that motherf*cker up)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Bobby Sandmanie, Thomas Ross
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group




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