Tempura ft. Triple B Lyrics

Fuck a alibi

Fuck a alibi, she already know I'm lying

I'm still lying if she sitting there fucking crying

I crunch down on these hoes like they Tempura

I got these snakes on my back, Jesse Ventura

I tell her, baby that's a hammer, be cool where you grabbin'

She keep on asking how I shoot it if it's made of plastic

Put the weed out roll another one cuz I'm an addict

She don't smoke but do you smell this shit all in her fabric?

She jumped out ghetto twerking like the bitch's duty

I jumped out pouring Hennessee on the bitch's booty

She got her hand out, expecting something from me

I hand that bitch a eulogy, it's dead up on the money

Something like that

I crunch down on these hoes like they Tempura

I crunch down on these hoes like they Tempura

I got these snakes on my back, Jesse Ventura

I crunch down on these hoes like they Tempura

I crunch down on these hoes like they Tempura

I crunch down on these hoes like they Tempura

I crunch down on these hoes like they Tempura

I crunch

How that shit sound?

That's one right there

Check it

My name Scott Winter, still I'm very colder

My plug got more base ["bass"] than a young Terry Boulder (brother)

Pilled up on the couch, Test Martin (Andrew)

Pimp my bunkmate out for a fresh carton

Ain't talking LPs when I say release date

Banging a broad looking like Big Cutie Cheesecake

Fuck these rappers that need seventy takes

I got the baby oil slapping ebony cakes

And I don't give a fuck about the model or make

But if you're still paying on the shit, Fucker you're fake

I crunch down on these hoes like they Tempura

I crunch down on these hoes like they Tempura

I got these snakes on my back, Jesse Ventura

I crunch down on these hoes like they Tempura

I crunch down on these hoes like they Tempura

I crunch down on these hoes like they Tempura

I crunch down on these hoes like they Tempura

I crunch

How that shit sound?

That's one right there