Pharrell Lyrics

Tell me baby, do I make you happy like Pharrell

She don't really fuck with Louis, told me buy her that Chanel

Niggas hatin' on me, I'm a grab the Glock and wish him well

I already hit Alisha now I'm fuckin' on Michelle

Oh, oh, oh, oh

Oh, oh, oh, oh

Ayy

I be all gas, no brakes when I'm spittin', huh

Real pimpin', got these hoes cookin' chicken

Why you mad? Oh, you couldn't even get a bitch to listen

If she follow what I say, then we can probably make a ticket

The reason I was single, I don't think you really get it

Put them blues in my pocket, or the curb is where you kick it

Me and all my niggas stupid, shout out to my nigga Bridget

If it's money to be got, then nigga, guess who finna get it

Bag chasin', yeah, I probably stumble, never fell

If you gettin' money, why your nigga starvin' up in jail

R.I.P. the ones in heaven, I'ma give these niggas hell

Let the kids up outta school, the way these bullets get expelled

Tell me, baby, do I make you happy? Like, for real?

She don't really fuck with Louis, told me, buy her that Chanel

Niggas hatin' on me, I'ma grab the Glock and wish him well

I already hit Alisha, now I'm fuckin' on Michelle

Had a bad bitch from the islands, lookin' like Rihanna

I get freaky when she pay me, eat it up like Benihana

I'm an animal, alligator mixed with a piranha

She a bird, let her fly, cause I don't fuck Thottiana

Ayy, okay, I'm back in

2 G17s, they my black twins

I done gave my all to the streets

Put my last in, walkin', smellin' like a ounce of dope

Who got that pack in

Okay, I'm back in

2 G17s, they my black twins

I done gave my all to the streets

Put my last in, walkin', smellin' like a ounce of dope

Who got that pack in