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Good Riddance (Late Night) Video (MV)






Trizzzycainexo & S3Huncho - Good Riddance (Late Night) Lyrics
Official




I don't want to talk to you about nothing
Baby can you get the f*ck out my face
Trap getting hot this shit get to jumping
Pockets was empty so I made a way
Her phone unlocked so I get to checking this shit
Now I swear I be wishing I didn't
Now I got the drop
Me and bro finna go slide to his crib, you can tell him good riddance
I'm trying to get the money, I just want them bands poking out of my jeans like I went to a scrimmage
Got so much Dior dripping off of my mother f*cking body you think I was locked in with Christian
Got a bad little mama she riding my wave tryna f*ck on the kid cause she f*ck with my image
I ain't ever telling them shit
If the feds pick me up then I promise I don't know who did it
Told her too many times, had to cut the bitch off cause I didn't want to talk the little hoe didn't listen
Tryna run up a check and get up out the trenches it ain't bout a bag, it don't call my attention
Said she want me to stay, shorty get out my face ain't no way that i'm throwing you any affection
If i'm thinking about calling you back it's to f*ck and i'm gone in the wind in under 60 seconds
Pockets fat yeah obese I ain't talking about Precious
Three five in a leaf all we smoking is pressure
Tell that boy take a seat i'ma give them a lecture
Got his bitch all on me I be doing the extras
She be up late night who you think she be texting
Had to double my cup pouring up dirty Texas
I be up late night off the drugs no stressing
If it's gas i'ma blow it you know that's no question
I don't want to talk to you about nothing
Baby can you get the f*ck out my face
Trap getting hot this shit get to jumping
Pockets was empty so I made a way
Her phone unlocked so I get to checking this shit
Now I swear I be wishing I didn't
Now I got the drop
Me and bro finna go slide to his crib, you can tell him good riddance
I'm trying to get the money, I just want them bands poking out of my jeans like I went to a scrimmage
Got so much Dior dripping off of my mother f*cking body you think I was locked in with Christian
Got a bad little mama she riding my wave tryna f*ck on the kid cause she f*ck with my image
I ain't ever telling them shit
If the feds pick me up then I promise I don't know who did it
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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English

I don't want to talk to you about nothing
Baby can you get the f*ck out my face
Trap getting hot this shit get to jumping
Pockets was empty so I made a way
Her phone unlocked so I get to checking this shit
Now I swear I be wishing I didn't
Now I got the drop
Me and bro finna go slide to his crib, you can tell him good riddance
I'm trying to get the money, I just want them bands poking out of my jeans like I went to a scrimmage
Got so much Dior dripping off of my mother f*cking body you think I was locked in with Christian
Got a bad little mama she riding my wave tryna f*ck on the kid cause she f*ck with my image
I ain't ever telling them shit
If the feds pick me up then I promise I don't know who did it
Told her too many times, had to cut the bitch off cause I didn't want to talk the little hoe didn't listen
Tryna run up a check and get up out the trenches it ain't bout a bag, it don't call my attention
Said she want me to stay, shorty get out my face ain't no way that i'm throwing you any affection
If i'm thinking about calling you back it's to f*ck and i'm gone in the wind in under 60 seconds
Pockets fat yeah obese I ain't talking about Precious
Three five in a leaf all we smoking is pressure
Tell that boy take a seat i'ma give them a lecture
Got his bitch all on me I be doing the extras
She be up late night who you think she be texting
Had to double my cup pouring up dirty Texas
I be up late night off the drugs no stressing
If it's gas i'ma blow it you know that's no question
I don't want to talk to you about nothing
Baby can you get the f*ck out my face
Trap getting hot this shit get to jumping
Pockets was empty so I made a way
Her phone unlocked so I get to checking this shit
Now I swear I be wishing I didn't
Now I got the drop
Me and bro finna go slide to his crib, you can tell him good riddance
I'm trying to get the money, I just want them bands poking out of my jeans like I went to a scrimmage
Got so much Dior dripping off of my mother f*cking body you think I was locked in with Christian
Got a bad little mama she riding my wave tryna f*ck on the kid cause she f*ck with my image
I ain't ever telling them shit
If the feds pick me up then I promise I don't know who did it
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Carlos De La Luz, Timothy Cruz
Copyright: Lyrics © TUNECORE INC, TuneCore Inc., O/B/O DistroKid


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