llogout - Cincerely Sorry Lyrics

Hit his bitch up through a text, I got em really mad
Shoot that pussy bitch up in his brain, he ina body bag
Now his bitch is mopey, she upset, I got her really sad
Put that shit right up in his dome like a durag
Ian try to take away yo bitch, but I'm known for it
And I know it's making you upset, and I'm wrong for it
Boy, you need attention, so I'm writing you a song for it
I apologize, all sincere, that I'm sorry for it
Ian fuck that bitch, we ain even had met her
Her pussy randomly get wet, you gotta check ona weather
And ian even wanna hit it, but it's harder to tell her
So ion fuck with white girls, only eating nutella
Man, take that bitch, I ca slam my dick in her throat
And she start to roll around, hot dog make her choke
Body count like 12 bitches, you ca call me the goat
I started cumming in her mouth, I got her driving the boat
And I swear to God, they don't even see me
And I swear to God, they ain fucking with me
See, ain hitting all these bitches, ian lying to ya
Fuck her one day, get out the next, now she crying to ya
Ian even fuck that lil hoe, not even once
Nah, ion be hitting all these bitches like they blunts
Popping up right up at the crib, ian seen that hoe in months
Then she asked me for a ride, where she live, she said in Montz? Tripping
She said she wanna put her hands up on my body, bitch
I had that stick up in her box, but ain no Roddy, bitch
I had her shaking in her shoes, she gotta potty, bitch
I'm dropping bombs on your head, Nagasaki, bitch
I'm tryna fuck that bitch, huh, yeah, you already know
She told me throw the money up while she slide down the pole
And then she busting out a split and bounce that ass of the floor
She acting different on that dick, I got it up in her soul
We ina climax, blowing up that pussy like it's Iraq
Fire back, thinking back to youngins, had a flashback
Six pack, talking bout a belly or a beer stack
Side track, ion want yo bitch, I said she real wack
Mismatch, me and you don't go together, real sad
Flapjack, that pussy candy island, ima fall back
All that, straight up from the bottom, this a comeback
Fuck that, ion want yo bitch, you can have all that
Hit his bitch up through a text, I got em really mad
Shoot that pussy bitch up in his brain, he ina body bag
Now his bitch is mopey, she upset, I got her really sad
Put that shit right up in his dome like a durag
Ian try to take away yo bitch, but I'm known for it
And I know it's making you upset, and I'm wrong for it
Boy, you need attention, so I'm writing you a song for it
I apologize, all sincere, that I'm sorry for it

Hit his bitch up through a text, I got em really mad
Shoot that pussy bitch up in his brain, he ina body bag
Now his bitch is mopey, she upset, I got her really sad
Put that shit right up in his dome like a durag
Ian try to take away yo bitch, but I'm known for it
And I know it's making you upset, and I'm wrong for it
Boy, you need attention, so I'm writing you a song for it
I apologize, all sincere, that I'm sorry for it
Ian fuck that bitch, we ain even had met her
Her pussy randomly get wet, you gotta check ona weather
And ian even wanna hit it, but it's harder to tell her
So ion fuck with white girls, only eating nutella
Man, take that bitch, I ca slam my dick in her throat
And she start to roll around, hot dog make her choke
Body count like 12 bitches, you ca call me the goat
I started cumming in her mouth, I got her driving the boat
And I swear to God, they don't even see me
And I swear to God, they ain fucking with me
See, ain hitting all these bitches, ian lying to ya
Fuck her one day, get out the next, now she crying to ya
Ian even fuck that lil hoe, not even once
Nah, ion be hitting all these bitches like they blunts
Popping up right up at the crib, ian seen that hoe in months
Then she asked me for a ride, where she live, she said in Montz? Tripping
She said she wanna put her hands up on my body, bitch
I had that stick up in her box, but ain no Roddy, bitch
I had her shaking in her shoes, she gotta potty, bitch
I'm dropping bombs on your head, Nagasaki, bitch
I'm tryna fuck that bitch, huh, yeah, you already know
She told me throw the money up while she slide down the pole
And then she busting out a split and bounce that ass of the floor
She acting different on that dick, I got it up in her soul
We ina climax, blowing up that pussy like it's Iraq
Fire back, thinking back to youngins, had a flashback
Six pack, talking bout a belly or a beer stack
Side track, ion want yo bitch, I said she real wack
Mismatch, me and you don't go together, real sad
Flapjack, that pussy candy island, ima fall back
All that, straight up from the bottom, this a comeback
Fuck that, ion want yo bitch, you can have all that
Hit his bitch up through a text, I got em really mad
Shoot that pussy bitch up in his brain, he ina body bag
Now his bitch is mopey, she upset, I got her really sad
Put that shit right up in his dome like a durag
Ian try to take away yo bitch, but I'm known for it
And I know it's making you upset, and I'm wrong for it
Boy, you need attention, so I'm writing you a song for it
I apologize, all sincere, that I'm sorry for it