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Facetime - Ricky styles Lyrics

By: Admin | Artist: R ricky styles | Published: 2024-22-09T14:28:32:00+07:00

Lirikku.ID - Facetime - Ricky styles Lyrics: Halo Lirikku.ID, Dalam konten ini, kami menyediakan chord gitar untuk lagu "Facetime - Ricky styles Lyrics" yang dinyanyikan oleh Toton R ricky styles. Dengan chord yang disajikan, pemula atau penggemar musik dapat dengan mudah memainkan lagu ini dengan gitar mereka sendiri. Kami menyajikan chord dengan akurasi tinggi sehingga pemain dapat mengikuti alunan musiknya dengan baik. Juga, kami akan memberikan informasi tambahan mengenai lirik lagu dan mungkin beberapa tips untuk menyempurnakan permainan gitar. Konten ini cocok untuk penggemar musik yang ingin belajar lagu baru atau bagi mereka yang ingin menikmati kesenangan bermain musik dengan gitar. Silahkan disimak Facetime - Ricky styles Lyrics Berikut Dibawah ini untuk Selanjutnya.

[chorus: wholovemoney]
countin’ money when i facetime your b-tch, huh
countin’ money when i facetime your b-tch, huh
money phone when i facetime your b-tch, huh
she comin’ home when i facetime your b-tch, huh
countin’ money when i facetime your b-tch, huh
countin’ money when i facetime your b-tch, huh
money phone when i facetime your b-tch, huh
she comin’ home when i facetime your b-tch, huh

[verse 1: ricky styles]
countin’ money when i facetime your b-tch, huh
you wonder why she ain’t call you in weeks, huh
you at home, late night, you can’t sleep, huh
i’m in the club, lookin’ for a freak, huh
you the type of n-gga would try to creep, huh
i’m the type of n-gga would try to shoot, huh
i’m a beast, i’m a dog, yeah a kujo
pulled up, four hoes in a two door
pinky ring bling blaow, yeah bling blaow
facetime with your ho, count a few thou
yeah i got a green pile and a blue pile
(yeah i got a green pile and a blue pile)

[verse 2: wholovemoney]
on the phone with your b-tch, i got bands ho
i’m getting money, broke b-tch i can’t stand those
always keep that strap, yeah i’m rambo
run it up, play a b-tch like a banjo
f-ck around, you get lit like a candle
up the chopper at his face and my man blow
i’ma spend it, got paper, i blow that
i’m the realest around and you know that
i’m just sayin’, i’m just sayin’, why you playin’ ho?
i got plans ho, and i’m tryna f-ck your friends ho
don’t understand ho, i been winnin’, i’m the man ho
i get the bands ho, and i’ma throw it on the ghetto

[verse 3: yung gunna]
facetime your b-tch, count up my chips
sliding off in the foreigns, i keep thirty off in the stick
blowin’ up my line, tryna blow up on my d-ck
that’s your baby mama but she runnin’ through the clique, ooh
you be soft up on a b-tch bro
we don’t never love ’em, we just take ’em for the chips though
stevie on the camera with the d-ck playin’ limbo
you be on some sucker cuffin’ sh-t like ten-four
puffin’ h-lla loud, off the cookie, blowin’ indo
player sh-t, this the squad n-gga, kinfolk
disrespect the mob, have you hangin’ out the window
n-gga only mad she facetimed me in the benzo, it’s gunna

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