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Bree Runway - Little Nokia Lyrics



Bree Runway - Little Nokia Lyrics
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I don't like, I don't like, I don't like
Little Nokias, yeah, yeah, yeah, I don't, I don't
Yeah, yeah, uh

News just in
You got Kylie, Madonna, got Justin
Can't trust him
Yeah, mama said throw him in the dustbin
Every time he on his own
Tell me lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lies
Baby's always on the road
Lemme dri-dri-dri-drive, dri-dri-dri-dri-drive
What's happenin'?
Got Britney, got Miley, got Kirsten
Can't catch him
Running red lights, he ain't tryna get busted
Cut the phone, you gotta go
Seeing blue li-li-li-lights, li-li-li-li-lights
I don't think you wanna know
You ain't 'bout that li-li-li-life, li-li-li-li-life

He only hit me with a text when he want that goddess-level sex
Boy, you got me f*cked up
What the hell is next?
Boy, you cute, but boy you stress
I ain't like you, I don't mess with feds
Boy, you got me f*cked up
This ain't good for press
News just in
Can you hear the little Nokia ring-ring
Trap line booming
(Ring, ring) what?
Can you leave me on my own?
All you do is lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie
Boy, you're reaping what you've sown
Playing with your li-li-li-life, li-li-li-li-life

He only hit me with a text when he want that goddess-level sex
Boy, you got me f*cked up
What the hell is next?
Boy, you cute, but boy you stress
I ain't like you, I don't mess with feds
Boy, you got me f*cked up
This ain't good for press

Can't come, can't
Won't come, won't come
Can't come, can't come to the phone now
Get gone, get gone
I won't answer your call
Can't come, can't come to the phone now
I'm sorry, can't come to the phone (come to the phone)
Hit you with the busy tone, yeah (ooh)
Boy, what the f*ck is you on? (Is you on?)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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I don't like, I don't like, I don't like
Little Nokias, yeah, yeah, yeah, I don't, I don't
Yeah, yeah, uh

News just in
You got Kylie, Madonna, got Justin
Can't trust him
Yeah, mama said throw him in the dustbin
Every time he on his own
Tell me lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lies
Baby's always on the road
Lemme dri-dri-dri-drive, dri-dri-dri-dri-drive
What's happenin'?
Got Britney, got Miley, got Kirsten
Can't catch him
Running red lights, he ain't tryna get busted
Cut the phone, you gotta go
Seeing blue li-li-li-lights, li-li-li-li-lights
I don't think you wanna know
You ain't 'bout that li-li-li-life, li-li-li-li-life

He only hit me with a text when he want that goddess-level sex
Boy, you got me f*cked up
What the hell is next?
Boy, you cute, but boy you stress
I ain't like you, I don't mess with feds
Boy, you got me f*cked up
This ain't good for press
News just in
Can you hear the little Nokia ring-ring
Trap line booming
(Ring, ring) what?
Can you leave me on my own?
All you do is lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie, lie
Boy, you're reaping what you've sown
Playing with your li-li-li-life, li-li-li-li-life

He only hit me with a text when he want that goddess-level sex
Boy, you got me f*cked up
What the hell is next?
Boy, you cute, but boy you stress
I ain't like you, I don't mess with feds
Boy, you got me f*cked up
This ain't good for press

Can't come, can't
Won't come, won't come
Can't come, can't come to the phone now
Get gone, get gone
I won't answer your call
Can't come, can't come to the phone now
I'm sorry, can't come to the phone (come to the phone)
Hit you with the busy tone, yeah (ooh)
Boy, what the f*ck is you on? (Is you on?)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Brenda Wireko Mensah, Cleo Tighe, Finn Keane
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sentric Music, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.

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