Pudgy Songtext
von Smino & Lil Uzi Vert
Pudgy Songtext
Ooh, oh
Ooh, ooh, oh
Yeah, yeah, yeah
(Haha, Childish Major)
Who in the truck with the pretty guts?
Pudgy f-, no tummy tuck
Got the city shook, mama look
B- glissy glossin′ it up in the back
'Bout to break her back to some rap sh-
Uzi vertebrae up like murder rate, up
Pearly gates
Reason number one is I′m the son of
Trees and moons, and martyrs, authors
Right when neighbors callin' me out, I came around the hardest (oh)
Playin' target practice, made the bad b- a target (oh)
Darlin′, what′s you bargain? Let get it bustin' like we Boston
Your n- all simp, blew his head like he Marge, damn
Damn, Atlanta made it, ′Lanta made it (ow)
Out the city, show in South Beach, bought her nails, sh- (ow)
Mike Wazowski, got my eye on her
Pudgy in the p- got some power on it, like
Tell you somethin'
Who in the truck with the pretty guts?
Pudgy f-, no tummy tuck
Got the city shook, mama look
B- glissy glossin′ it up in the back
'Bout to break her back to some rap sh-
Uzi vertebrae up like murder rate, up
Pearly gates
I don′t know if I'll make it to pearly gates (pearly gates)
Standin' on top of the world, I′ma be like 7′8" (wow)
I wonder where my soul gon' go until the devil says (no)
I might got eight different baby mamas in seven states (states)
I don′t care what you do in the daytime, and I better late
I don't care what you do in my whip, take your shoes off, anime
I don′t drink no Henny, Casamigos be the better grade
I done put diamonds in my AP and it made me feel so late
And I got my momma a new home, it made me feel so great
Late better than ever, I feel like I'm greater than ever
Fight for this cheddar, the death get you jammed like vendetta
Who in the truck with the pretty guts?
Pudgy f-, no tummy tuck
Got the city shook, mama look
B- glissy glossin′ it up in the back
'Bout to break her back to some rap sh-
Uzi vertebrae up like murder rate, up
Pearly gates
Reason number one is on the sun are
Trees and moons, and martyrs, authors
Right when neighbors callin' me out, I came around the hardest
Playin′ target practice, made the bad b- a target
Who you, bro? I don′t know you, n-, need to move over
Who smokin'? I′m on Mars right now, I feel like Bruno
Got eight pack, loud as drum, this sh- deserve a drum roll
On your track, that could brag on, brag on dumb h- (it do)
But no n- that be burnt out like that fronto (uh-uh)
I'm so serious, I be better off boolin′ back on my own (ooh, ooh, ooh, yeah)
Who in the truck with the-
Ooh, ooh, oh
Yeah, yeah, yeah
(Haha, Childish Major)
Who in the truck with the pretty guts?
Pudgy f-, no tummy tuck
Got the city shook, mama look
B- glissy glossin′ it up in the back
'Bout to break her back to some rap sh-
Uzi vertebrae up like murder rate, up
Pearly gates
Reason number one is I′m the son of
Trees and moons, and martyrs, authors
Right when neighbors callin' me out, I came around the hardest (oh)
Playin' target practice, made the bad b- a target (oh)
Darlin′, what′s you bargain? Let get it bustin' like we Boston
Your n- all simp, blew his head like he Marge, damn
Damn, Atlanta made it, ′Lanta made it (ow)
Out the city, show in South Beach, bought her nails, sh- (ow)
Mike Wazowski, got my eye on her
Pudgy in the p- got some power on it, like
Tell you somethin'
Who in the truck with the pretty guts?
Pudgy f-, no tummy tuck
Got the city shook, mama look
B- glissy glossin′ it up in the back
'Bout to break her back to some rap sh-
Uzi vertebrae up like murder rate, up
Pearly gates
I don′t know if I'll make it to pearly gates (pearly gates)
Standin' on top of the world, I′ma be like 7′8" (wow)
I wonder where my soul gon' go until the devil says (no)
I might got eight different baby mamas in seven states (states)
I don′t care what you do in the daytime, and I better late
I don't care what you do in my whip, take your shoes off, anime
I don′t drink no Henny, Casamigos be the better grade
I done put diamonds in my AP and it made me feel so late
And I got my momma a new home, it made me feel so great
Late better than ever, I feel like I'm greater than ever
Fight for this cheddar, the death get you jammed like vendetta
Who in the truck with the pretty guts?
Pudgy f-, no tummy tuck
Got the city shook, mama look
B- glissy glossin′ it up in the back
'Bout to break her back to some rap sh-
Uzi vertebrae up like murder rate, up
Pearly gates
Reason number one is on the sun are
Trees and moons, and martyrs, authors
Right when neighbors callin' me out, I came around the hardest
Playin′ target practice, made the bad b- a target
Who you, bro? I don′t know you, n-, need to move over
Who smokin'? I′m on Mars right now, I feel like Bruno
Got eight pack, loud as drum, this sh- deserve a drum roll
On your track, that could brag on, brag on dumb h- (it do)
But no n- that be burnt out like that fronto (uh-uh)
I'm so serious, I be better off boolin′ back on my own (ooh, ooh, ooh, yeah)
Who in the truck with the-
Writer(s): Markus Randle, Symere Woods, Eliot Dubock, Daoud Ayodele Miles Anthony, Chidi Osondu, Christopher Smino Jr. Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
