lil sally walker Lyrics

Who the fuck is Eli

Bitch, who is Eli

That's what you doin, you on that though

Ayy, ayy

I guess you left your waist at home, huh

Huh

You ain't nothin' like these bitches, got your own vibe

You ain't trippin' on no nigga, got your own guap

You gon' call me twenty times and make my phone hot

You told bestie, this your song, huh

Huh

You gon' fuck it up

You gon' run it up

You the baddest bitch here

You not runner up

Tell your girl to jump in

It's like double dutch

Lil' sally walker

Toot it up and arch it

Dick her down, chase me around

She like Nicki Parker

She say, daddy, I'm your baby

No, I'm not the father

Said she wanna see a star

You gon' need binoculars

She into astrology

Wanna know my sign

Where I was born

And what's the time

Bae, fuck all of that and follow me

Prada sneak, ninety-three denim

With the whitest tee

Cartier woods, wood grain

It look mahogany

She a work of art

In school workin' hard

This the type of dick

That make you cancel work tomorrow

Baby chocolate, break her off

Just like a Hershey bar

Diggin' in lil' mama deep

She keep the perfect arch

You look good on Instagram

But better on my arm

Passenger my car

Damn, that ass bizarre

Take a trip OT

The locals askin' who we are

Five-star restaurant

Now she not mad at me no more

I guess you left your waist at home, huh

Huh

You ain't nothin' like these bitches, got your own vibe

You ain't trippin' on no nigga, got your own guap

You gon' call me twenty times and make my phone hot

You told bestie, this your song, huh

Huh

You gon' fuck it up

You gon' run it up

You the baddest bitch here

You not runner up

Tell your girl to jump in

It's like double dutch

They had you before

But they ain't have you like this, huh

You so solid, these lil' hoes don't matter to you, huh

Barely smoke, you gon' roll and pass it to me, huh

You so fine, bae, you ain't gotta never be on time

Got your own paper you ain't never in no bind

Feel like Tiger Woods, I got that check on me right now

Chasing Ms, I can't PMS with you right now

Forgot your waist somewhere at the crib gotta turn around

Got damn

I guess you left your waist at home, huh

Huh

You ain't nothin' like these bitches, got your own vibe

You ain't trippin' on no nigga, got your own guap

You gon' call me twenty times and make my phone hot

You told bestie, this your song, huh

Huh

You gon' fuck it up

You gon' run it up

You the baddest bitch here

You not runner up

Tell your girl to jump in

It's like double dutch