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Latto - Sugar Honey Iced Tea Album Lyrics



Latto - Sugar Honey Iced Tea Lyrics
(Featuring Young Nudy, Hunxho, Coco Jones, Megan Thee Stallion, Ciara, Mariah the Scientist, Teezo Touchdown, Cardi B, Flo Milli)






Georgia Peach

Is this what you wanted?
Is this what you need?
F*ck your reputation
It don't mean shit to me

Yeah, yeah, huh
Georgia peach, put me somewhere on a gorgeous beach
But I'm right here in the hood
But I'm right here in the hood
Posted with niggas that's up to no good
Pullin' up outside of Magic (skrrt)
Pullin' up outside of Magic
Niggas know I'm from Jurassic
Keepin' that shit in my jacket
I'm with the boys in the hood right now
I'm feelin' like Angela Bassett
Lookin' like Jessica Rabbit
They know that I'm droppin' a classic
Money is under the mattress
Wonder what I owe in taxes?
Label sent over a new deal
Somebody hand me my glasses

Is this money all for me, my girl? Shit it's massive (brr)
Your single belong to BP, my girl, yeah, they gassed it (tuh)
Iced out cross on when he be diggin' me out, I feel like a bad bitch (uh)
Pretendin' I'm gettin' along with these bitches is hard 'cause I'm not an actress
NBA niggas go Iverson over my sister, they skippin' they practice
Niggas get nervous when we sittin' courtside, instead of shootin' it, he passed it
Pullin' up outside of Magic
Pullin' up outside of Magic
Love when I'm rippin' the plastic
Love when I'm poppin', elastic

Triple 7 on the neck and you ain't never hearin' nobody snatched it
Georgia peach
You know that I'm keepin' it rachet
That nigga gave me his heart
That's when I gave him some head
That's when he gave me his card
I went to the mall and I maxed it
Yeah, maxed it, maxed it
Say he in love with my accent
Say he in love with my back, what?

Ain't nothin' like a Georgia girl
Ain't nothin' like a Georgia girl
Ain't nothin' like
Ain't nothin' like
Ain't nothin' like
Ain't nothin' like
On God
On God
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Alyssa Michelle Stephens, Darryl Clemons, Detral Lamont Treadwell, Jocelyn Donald, Kevin Andre Price, Miranda Ferguson, Randall Hammers, Tommy Lumpkins
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Big Mama

Uh, okay (tuh)

You make it hard to talk about you (uh)
Like when I see someone workin' my mood
You give me butterflies, you don't wanna f*ck them other guys
At the start I told a couple lies, but after that I swear I really tried
Cut the real about my past niggas and I hope you never thinkin' otherwise
Sometimes my mind takes me places and I wonder why
Why the f*ck you got two phones? Nigga, what you doin' on that other line?
Shit, better be some money talk 'cause some beef talk go another vibe
I don't play about a side bitch and you heard me say about a hunnid times
Let me try and keep it sexy for you, we can talk about that another time
Love your ass in the worst way, let you hit it on the first date
What you gon' do for Big Mama for real
What do I get for my birthday?
What do I get for my birthday?
What do I get for my birthday?
What do I get for my birthday?
You gotta put in some work today
Can you please do the most for me 'cause I'm sprung? (Sprung for you)
Can you give me some good dick 'til I cum? (Cum for you)
Then can you make me nut again, where's your tongue? (Want for you)
Can I please get a pink Glock with a drum? (Pow, pow, pow)
If you can go another round then we ain't done
I'ma f*ck you 'til we see the sun
Drinkin' out the bottle until this shit is done
On some Andre 3K shit, man, where the f*ck are my panties at?
'Cause I ain't wearin' none, I ain't wearin' none
I ain't wearin' none, I ain't wearin' none

Yeah, yeah
Big Mama, Big Mama, Big Mama
Bent n' wet when he call me Big- (yeah)

Love when he call me Big Mama, yeah, that get the coochie wet
Hoe better stick the TikToking, mean that with all disrespect
I was a virgin before I met you, baby, I don't have an ex
Thought I told you bitches, I pull up in twenty Cadillacs, yeah (skrrr)
Money long, cheetah thong, thick as hell, Georgia Don
Sharin' niggas, sharin' clothes, I don't know what y'all be on
Y'all go for shit I wouldn't, I'm up three hunnid a bookin'
Bitch, I don't play for the Nets
But I'm gon' shoot shit up, 'bout Brooklyn (on God, brr)
Every time I'm cookin' (cookin'), he know I put my foot in (foot in)
Leave yo bitch get with a boss, she can't give you none but pussy (aw)
Pretty boy can't take me home, Latto want an Al Capone
T-shirt with no panties on, f*ck him to my favorite song, ah

Yeah (Big Mama, tuh), and don't, yeah (Big Mama, yeah)
Bitches get (Big Mama, Big Mama, pow, pow, pow, pow)
Bitch, I'm Big Mama (pow, pow, pow, pow)
He call me Big Mama (pow)
He loves his Big Mama, Big Mama, Big Mama (yeah, pow, pow, tuh, pow-pow, yeah, yuh)
Big Mama, Big Mama, Big Mama (yeah, yuh, pow-pow, yeah, yuh, pow, pow, yeah, yuh, pow-pow)
Yeah, I get wet when he call me Big Mama (yeah, yeah, yeah)
Big Mama, Big Mama, Big Mama (yeah, pow, pow, tuh, pow-pow, yeah, yuh)
Big Mama, Big Mama, Big Mama (yeah, yuh, pow-pow, yeah, yuh, pow, pow, yeah, yuh, pow-pow)
Yeah, I get wet when he call me Big Mama (yeah, yeah, yeah)

You a fan of them?
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Alyssa Stephens, Edward Maclin Cooper III, Edmond Harrison, Elliott Archer, Duane Ewell, Brytavious Lakeith Chambers, Jeff Franzel, Ozan Yildrim
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Blick Sum

I don't trust no man without no blicky
'Cause when shit get sticky, where the f*ck that blicky at?
Yeah
Why ya got no blicky, boy?

Step for me
Throw up your set for me
Get in the field, go get that check for me
That pistol get that pussy wet, now come have sex with me

Blick sum' (blick, ooh)
Blick sum' (blick, ah)
Hit some (hit)
If you love me (pew, pew, pew)
Blick sum' (yeah)
Blick sum' (brr-ah)
Hit some (ooh)
If you love me

That gangster shit, it turn me on
That .22 ain't gon' do, that 90, get me out my thong, ah
Don't get me wrong, I'm gangster bitch
But I tell bae, "Go get the switch," you know he pull up spankin' shit
Blick sum if you love me (nigga), hit some if you love me (huh)
Better not put nobody but your opps above me
Passy princess when we slide through, know them niggas ain't on nothin'
Super thick, you know I'm sittin' pretty when that shit get ugly (mwah)
Put it in my purse
He know I shoot first
He know who to call, make niggas fall like Life Alert
Come out clean when I do dirt, my shirt got nothing but chains on it
Miss me with that bull before I have 'em put some wings on you (brr)

Step for me (step)
Throw up your set for me (throw up your set)
Get in the field, go get that check for me (get that check)
That pistol get that pussy wet, now come have sex with me (sex)

Blick sum' (blick, ooh)
Blick sum' (blick, ah)
Hit some (hit)
If you love me (pew, pew, pew)
(Huh?) Blick sum' (yeah)
(Huh?) Blick sum' (brr-ah)
Hit some (ooh)
If you love me

I love a drummer boy, ba-rumpa rump bum
Like-like come here, daddy, let me fix your loose screw
Buss for me like I buss for you
Ride for me like I ride on you (okay)
Every whip BP, this door so heavy, like my ass
He don't leave the house without the, uh, or his mask
Y'all should put y'all boyfriends out on Thursday, they be trash
Doorman got you thinking he a stepper, you so green
Makin' that shit up, these niggas be so Maybelline
Don't get it confused though, 'cause he's gon' still swing
Damn, it might be the Clayton County in me
Damn, make it clap for you, now clap something for me
Brrr

Step for me (step)
Throw up your set for me (throw up your set)
Get in the field, go get that check for me (get that check)
That pistol get that pussy wet, now come have sex with me (sex)

Blick sum' (blick, ooh)
Blick sum' (blick, ah)
Hit some (hit)
If you love me (pew, pew, pew)
(Huh?) Blick sum' (yeah)
(Huh?) Blick sum' (brr-ah)
Hit some (ooh)
If you love me

I'm with a gangsta
Yeah, I just fell in love with a gangsta (motherf*ckin')
I'm with a gangsta (than a motherf*cka)
Gold grills twisting up his fingers (motherf*ckin')

Oh, okay, oh, okay
Yeah, yeah, oh, okay
Pipe down, bitch, pipe down
Do you wanna fight? Do you wanna fight?
Okay then
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Ahmar Bailey, Alyssa Stephens
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Settle Down

Latto
Latto
Latto
Latto

Settle down (settle down), settle down (settle down)
Might try that shit with them
With me, don't play around
Settle down (uh-huh), settle down (uh-huh)
Heard he had his way with you
With me, he gon' settle down

Don't get me started (don't get me started)
You know my body (you know my body)
Know how I'm coming (know how I'm coming)
Big deposits (big deposits)
Better not try it (better not try it)
Smoke exotic (smoke exotic)
Feel erotic (feel erotic)

Bitches tried to play me, I'm the one
Acting tough on stage and then they run
Put the belt to ass like your mama
Got you looking like your daddy son
All the fake tension gotta stop (stop)
Check a ho in person like the doc
Rollie Richard, AP watch
Different Flava Flavs with the clock (clock)
Ayy, ayy
I won't even tweet
I just hop on the beat when they lyin' on me
Stiff on a nigga, play hard to get
But I'm harder to keep
Lately been mindin' my business, these bitches been mindin' me
I'm on a island, I'm finding peace
I got some nigga from north to south, to east to west
They flying to me

Settle down, settle down
Might try that shit with them
With me, don't play around
Settle down, settle down
Heard he had his way with you
With me, he gon' settle down

Don't get me started
You know my body
Know how I'm coming
Big deposits
Better not try it
Smoke exotic
Feel erotic

Pick a side, ho, don't play the fence
Insecure hoes take offense
The hate ain't work, I took it to the chin
Bitches play with me, they getting pinned
Got these bitches waiting for me to drop
Know they probably waiting on me to flop
You was just a fan before you popped
I don't even know you, how we opps?
Huh? Bitch
Ayy, 'fore I get going, I'll give you a warning before I get active
Lay a ho down and lay up with a savage
Bitches come for me, they know I'm attractive (uh)
Thousand dollar steak and a bitch think we gon' beef for free?
Lap dog better not think she getting off the leash with me
Face and the body both tea, what's tea, like?

Settle down (tuh), settle down (ho, stop playin')
Might try that shit with them
With me, don't play around (ho, stop playin')
Settle down, settle down
Heard he had his way with you
With me, he gon' settle down

Don't get me started
You know my body
Know how I'm coming
Big deposits
Better not try it
Smoke exotic
Feel erotic
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Alyssa Stephens, Darryl Clemons, Kevin Andre Price, Tahj Morgan
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Shrimp & Grits

[ Featuring Young Nudy ]

Uh
Squatting on a nigga, he drinking my piss (my piss)
Freak bitch, make him swallow my spit (uh)
Talk my shit when I'm taking that dick (that dick)
Stop playing like I ain't that bitch (that bitch)
Hatin' on me with no food in your fridge (what?)
Big blunts, ain't smoking no cigs
Hips wide, ain't even had kids
Standing on couches, I'm standing on biz (biz)

Country thick like shrimp and grits (grits)
These niggas be simps and licks (licks)
Country thick like shrimp and grits (grits)
These niggas be simps and licks (licks)

Shrimp, shrimp and grits (grits)
Simps and licks (licks)
Shrimp, shrimp and grits (grits)
Simps and licks (licks)

Flirting with a nigga, he digging my rizz (my rizz)
Hope he ain't thinking I'm his
I ain't had a baby, just bought a new crib (new crib)
But he'll never know where I live (no)
Big booty got a nigga all on my heels (damn)
Gotta be the home-cooked meals
My bitch scam, but she wanna go legit
All the dirty money getting rinsed (rinsed)
Thick like yams and the pussy like butter (like butter)
Cook real good, I can make what you wanna (what you wanna-?)
Love me a cleaned-up, nigga from the gutter (uh)
Gotta be the boss, I ain't f*cking on a runner (no)
F*ckin' 'em good like I missed the dick
I miss a call, he throw hissy fits (brr)
I ain't got time for no mixy shit
I'm just here to collect all my chips and dip (dip)

Country thick like shrimp and grits (grits)
These niggas be simps and licks (licks)
Country thick like shrimp and grits (grits)
These niggas be simps and licks (licks)

Shrimp, shrimp and grits (grits)
Simps and licks (licks)
Shrimp, shrimp and grits (grits)
Simps and licks (licks)

Country thick like shrimp and grits (grits)
These niggas be simps and licks (licks)
Country thick like shrimp and grits (grits)
These niggas be simps and licks (licks)

Shrimp, shrimp and grits (grits)
Simps and licks (licks)
Shrimp, shrimp and grits (grits) (you know I'm a street nigga, right?)
Simps and licks (licks)

She just like the way I sit in the spot
I stir up the grits when I whip up the pot
She know I'm a real one, they play, they get shot (they get shot)
She love a young gangsta, she know that it's hot
She know that I'm richer, she know that I'm fly
I'm turning these streets like a motherf*cking tire
She callin' my phone, "Pull up on the spot"
She said that it's red, that that pussy is hot (uh-huh)
Damn, it's hot and it's ready, I'm ready
She said that it's mushy, it sound like spaghetti (ooh)
She put that shit on me, that shit looking heavy
I eat on that pussy, she grabbing my dreads (damn)
I make it squirt like some bread
No talking, lil' baby, just give me some head
And when I get done, I leave you some bread
Ain't nothing like butter, you know he ain't dead, nah

Country thick like shrimp and grits (grits)
These niggas be simps and licks (licks)
Country thick like shrimp and grits (grits)
These niggas be simps and licks (licks)

Shrimp, shrimp and grits (grits)
Simps and licks (licks)
Shrimp, shrimp and grits (grits)
Simps and licks (licks)

Country thick like shrimp and grits (grits)
These niggas be simps and licks (licks)
Country thick like shrimp and grits (grits)
These niggas be simps and licks (licks)

Shrimp, shrimp and grits (grits)
Simps and licks (licks)
Shrimp, shrimp and grits (grits)
Simps and licks (licks)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Alyssa Stephens, Darryl Clemons, Kevin Andre Price, Quantavious T. Thomas
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




There She Go

They like, "There she go, go, go, go, go, go, go"
They like, "There she go, go, go, go, go, go, go"
Yeah

Back then, I was broke (I was broke)
Now, I'm on an island getting my back blown (baow)
I'm the bitch he brag on (yeah) you the one he pass on (ooh)
He don't ever tell me no, buy me what I ask for (baow)
I get off the Julio and I might act an asshole
Girl, that shit don't match your legs, where you get that ass from? (Damn)
And that jewelry look like tuh, girl, you know you dead wrong (bro)
Letting that nigga dog you out, you ain't got no backbone? (Couldn't be me)
It ain't giving what it's supposed to give
Begging me to have his baby, heard he made you take the pill
Where I'm at? Boy, it ain't your business, you ain't payin' bills (the f*ck?)
Back then I was broke, now a young bitch up a couple mills (on God)

Go, go, go, go, go, go, go
They like, "There she go, go, go, go, go, go, go"
They like, "There she go, go, go, go, go, go, go" (when the real bitch walk up in the building)
They like, "There she go, go, go, go, go, go, go" (when the real bitch walk up in the building)

They like Big L-A-T-T-O, bitch, it's me
Thought I told a bitch to put it on the floor (on the floor)
Little waist with a big bankroll ('cause I'm rich)
I'm a bad-ass bitch from Clay-Co
He can't touch me if he broke (no), you get what you pay for (yeah)
She can't come around no more, found out she a snake ho
I can't stress about no nigga all my problems paid for
Said she want her lick back, ask her what she waitin' on?
Always in my bag, never in my feelings (no)
I might take yo man, but I don't take opinions (I don't)
Bitches always lyin' (they lyin'), put that on your children (cap)
Money on my mind (my mind), never on these bitches (it's never on these bitches)

Go, go, go, go, go, go, go
They like, "There she go, go, go, go, go, go, go"
They like, "There she go, go, go, go, go, go, go" (when the real bitch walk up in the building)
They like, "There she go, go, go, go, go, go, go" (when the real bitch walk up in the building)
They like
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Alyssa Michelle Stephens, Darryl Clemons, Kevin Andre Price, Mike Jones, Salih Williams
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Brokey

Hmm, huh, huh, huh
Coupe

When a real one hold you down, bae, you supposed to drown
You ain't never f*ck with no boss bitch, I turned you out (turned you out)
You won't catch me in no shark boots, y'all burnt 'em out (burnt 'em out)
Bitches gotta wait 'til they birthday to go out of town

Yeah, I got my twin with me, you know what the f*ck we doin'
Twenty black suburban's wherever the f*ck we go, bitch
Two Lambs, yeah
Four Bentley trucks (Big Latto, mm)
And twenty hellcats (Big Latto, uh-huh)
Get on with a real nigga though (I'm a Big Latto, huh, huh)

When a real one hold you down, bae, you supposed to drown
You ain't never f*ck with no boss bitch, I turned you out (turned you out)
You won't catch me in no shark boots, y'all burnt 'em out (burnt 'em out)
Bitches gotta wait 'til they birthday to go out of town
Brokey
Yeah, I talk a lot of shit
He like, "Who you think you is?," Nigga, not your bitch
Brokey
Nigga, not your ho (no)
Think he got one up on me, whole time this shit like 3 and 0, twin (hah)

Bitch, I be going in (going in)
Bitches clearly want my life and it's so evident (evident)
Cook, clean and f*ck him right, I'm so heaven-sent (heaven-sent)
What I look like asking him about another bitch? (Hmm)
Might tell you once, won't tell you twice
If hoes shut up we'd be alright, see, y'all gon tweet and I'm gon fight, facts (boaw)
Yeah, these hoes sweet as apple pie
Ain't got no car, so hoes dickride, but bro said y'all can't even do that
What? (uh) why? (Uh) how? (Uh) when? (Uh) where?
Just let me know how you want to play it, bitch, you know I'm there (pop)
If it was smoke, then I would say it, bitch, I'm crystal clear (pop)
Left my panties at his mansion like a souvenir

When a real one hold you down, bae, you supposed to drown
You ain't never f*ck with no boss bitch, I turned you out (turned you out)
You won't catch me in no shark boots, y'all burnt 'em out (burnt 'em out)
Bitches gotta wait 'til they birthday to go out of town
Brokey
Yeah, I talk a lot of shit (haha)
He like, "Who you think you is?," Nigga, not your bitch
Brokey
Nigga, not your ho (no)
Think he got one up on me, whole time this shit like 3 and 0, twin

Misses Can't-Be-F*cked-With, hoes ain't talking 'bout nothing
Every time I look up, I'm the topic of discussion
I'm in a fast coupe (skrr), you in a bad mood (uh)
Funky bitch, you left your pussy in the bathroom (ew, haha)
You gon' meet him halfway (huh?)
I'm gon' meet him at the bank (wrr)
I'm the type to make him wait (shh)
You the type to give it up (uh), it's hard for me to give a f*ck (bitch)
You gon' let him plead his case (huh), a bitch like me can't go for nothing (nothing)
Huh? Know what's in my cup (cup)
When I leave the club, consider that nigga f*cked (f*cked)
When you mention me (huh), don't forget rich as f*ck (rich as f*ck)
Pussy squeaky clean, but I got junk up in the trunk (damn)

When a real one hold you down, bae, you supposed to drown
You ain't never f*ck with no boss bitch, I turned you out (turned you out)
You won't catch me in no shark boots, y'all burnt 'em out (burnt 'em out)
Bitches gotta wait 'til they birthday to go out of town
Brokey
Yeah, I talk a lot of shit (haha)
He like, "Who you think you is?," Nigga, not your bitch
Brokey
Nigga, not your ho (no)
Think he got one up on me, whole time this shit like 3 and 0, twin

Brokey (these bitches broke), tuh
Brokey (these bitches broke), tuh
Brokey (these bitches broke), tuh
Big Latto, Big Latto, Big Latto
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Alyssa Michelle Stephens, Edward Maclin Cooper III
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




H&M

Uh, I be submissive for you (baby)
Hold that pistol for you (daddy)
Blowin' kisses at you (muah)
Yeah, you know this pussy (fye)
I don't fight for shit that's mine
Only whinin' if I'm dinin'
Bitches love to whine and cry (aww)

Oh, you hurt and miserable (oh, you hurt)
Hoes be hurt and miserable (hoes be hurt)
Only whinin' if I'm dinin'
Bitches love to whine and cry (oh)
Hoes be hurt and miserable

Fix your face, why you mad? (Uh, tuh)
Hatin' hoes ain't happy, happy hoes stay in they bag
Bitches hurt like they leg broke
Hurt just like they pockets
Hurt just like your feelings when you heard he took me shoppin' (shoppin')
Uh, life's good, money good, pussy great (fuh-fuh-fuh-fuh-fuh)
I been thumbin', watch me demonstrate (woo)
Bitch, you a bird, I ain't boxin' with no featherweight (who?)
I curved that nigga for you, baby, set the record straight (tuh)

Uh, I be submissive for you (baby)
Hold that pistol for you (daddy)
Blowin' kisses at you (muah)
Yeah, you know this pussy (fye)
I don't fight for shit that's mine
Only whining if I'm dining (uh)
Bitches love to whine and cry (uh)

Oh, you hurt and miserable (oh, you hurt)
Hoes be hurt and miserable (hoes be hurt)
Only whinin' if I'm dinin'
Bitches love to whine and cry (aww)
Hoes be hurt and miserable

Yeah, this bitch need a Band-Aid, she should run a fan page
They be poppin' shit, I see 'em, it be hugs and handshakes
Y'all be out here trauma-bonding, misery love company (huh?)
Like, bitch, I let you keep your nigga, what else do you want from me? (Like, what the f*ck?)
I don't even see you hoes in my peripheral (what?)
Petty bitch, at your big age, that's just pitiful (tuh)
I'd come for me too if I was broke and ain't have shit to lose
Bougie, bad, and bossy, rich as f*ck, I ain't got shit to prove (stop playin')

But I'll be submissive for you (baby)
Hold that pistol for you (daddy)
Blowin' kisses at you (muah)
Yeah, you know this pussy (fye)
I'on fight for shit that's mine
Only whinin' if I'm dinin'
Bitches love to whine and cry (uh)

Oh, you hurt and miserable (oh, you hurt)
Hoes be hurt and miserable (hoes be hurt)
Only whinin' if I'm dinin'
Bitches love to whine and cry (aww)
Hoes be hurt and miserable
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Alyssa Michelle Stephens, Derrick Carrington Gray, Jonas Jeberg, Randall Hammers
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Copper Cove

[ Featuring Hunxho ]

Go Grizz

Baby, let me know what's brackin', buss it for you, never lackin'
I wanna know your attraction, is it the face, body, or the accent?
Show up for me, never absent, f*ck me like you did in Aspen
Swear that you was tryna make a baby that night the way that you was acting
I wasn't even tryna fall for you, no, I couldn't tell you how it happened
Copper Cove to the studio, I was plotting on your ass back then
Let you hit it from the back then, week later, I was moved in
Running from you, almost ruined it, that's some shit I'd never do again
Look in my eyes when you put it in, say I got you believing in love again
F*ck all that kissing and cuddling, I'm tryna cum again, then cum again
I can't share you with another bitch, know they want my spot, so I'ma rub it in
Good girl, but for you, I be on some other shit, like

F*ck a love song, this that slut-me-out-spit-on-my-tongue song
This that make you leave the club and come home
Come here, let me be the one you love on
F*ck a love song (f*ck a love song)
This that slut-me-out-spit-on-my-tongue song (spit-on-my-tongue song)
This that make you leave the club and come home
Come here, let me be the one you love on

Yeah, f*ckin' you, can't get tired
Oh, when we f*ck, we f*ck for hours
No more streets, let's settle down
Say our vows, let's have a child
Of your love, I ain't had enough
Can't break up 'cause we still in love
Just call me, I'll come pick you up
Just ball me, get whatever, girl, I'm ballin' I can't leave 'cause she won't let up
She can't leave 'cause I won't let her
If I f*ck up, girl, I'll do better
But she so solid to my mental
She been the same way since I met her and she understand me because we both came out the ghetto
Oh, na, na

F*ck a love song, this that slut-me-out-spit-on-my-tongue song
This that make you leave the club and come home
Come here, let me be the one you love on
F*ck a love song (f*ck a love song)
This that slut-me-out-spit-on-my-tongue song (spit-on-my-tongue song)
This that make you leave the club and come home
Come here, let me be the one you love on
(F*ck a love song)

Baby, take your clothes off
Baby, take your clothes off
'Cause I wanna see what's underneath
I been thinkin' about it for so long, ooh
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Alyssa Michelle Stephens, Kevin Andre Price, Ibrahim Muhammad Dodo
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Ear Candy

[ Featuring Coco Jones ]

It sounds like ear candy, sweet things you say to me
You say them words I can taste, oh
I hear you loud, that ear candy
You make it sound so sweet
I see how you get your way, way

Uh, know the perfect thing to say
It's like you read my mind I love the way you lead the way
I'm going for the ride
Hold me down and buckle me up
Come put this shit in drive
Love how he be lifting me up in any situation
Good sex, inspiration, you got all my concentration
Way you talking, I could taste it
Speaking all my favorite flavors
Help me fix my attitude, now I'm working on my patience
They don't get no conversation, happy with my situation
He told me, "Keep it down", you know I like it loud
He talk me out them draws, he come and pipe it down
And since you came around, you ain't played around
Don't matter what you say, I love the way it sound

It sounds like ear candy, sweet things you say to me
You say them words I can taste, oh
I hear you loud, that ear candy
You make it sound so sweet
I see how you get your way, way

Waking up seeing your face, that's the best part of my day (uh)
Talking all sweet in my ear
I'm 'bout to give you something you could taste
Tuh, don't leave a crumb on the plate, good pussy can't go to waste
He got me hooked, I'm biting the bait
So when they approach it don't hit the same
I know it's hard for hoes to relate to this, a healthy relationship
I done been down for niggas that can't commit and expect me to take the shit
I done been there, this shit ain't new, used to be settling but I grew
I don't even check my DM, I'm cool
If it ain't me and you, then who? (Who?)
I'm tryna make you proud, boy, just tell me how
You wanna hear your name, I'll scream it like the crowd
More than a lover, we tighter than friends, ain't gotta explain, you know what it is
Smooth like butter when you talk that shit
Make a bitch wanna come up out that shit (on God)

It sounds like ear candy, sweet things you say to me
You say them words I can taste, oh
I hear you loud, that ear candy
You make it sound so sweet
I see how you get your way, way

Read your lips (lips)
Slow it down, ooh, I felt that
On the phone (yes), I can see where your head's at
Say it right, say it right, say it right
Every time, every time

It sounds like ear candy, sweet things you say to me
You say them words I can taste, oh
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Alyssa Michelle Stephens, Courtney Jones, Derryl Clemons, Kevin Andre Price
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Liquor

Earl on the beat
(Uh, uh, uh, uh)

That liquor turn me to a freak (uh)
That liquor turn me to a freak (uh)
That henny get me off the leash (uh)
One more shot, I'm super tweaked (uh, tweaked)
That liquor turn me to a freak (freak, freak)
That liquor turn me to a freak (uh, freak)
This pimpin' got him super weak (uh)
Boy, come and put that thang on me (uh, freak)

Turn me to a freak (freak), big ol' Georgia peach (peach)
TLC I creep (creep, shh), who comin' home with me?
All these niggas in here acting choosy tryna send me drinks
I can't put my eggs in one basket, pussy easter pink
Bitch, please, I got your nigga sending shots
Bitch, please, ain't shit sweet but this lemon drop
I'm on tequila and he on the wok
Uh, I'm trying to play in them locs
He got a bottle, he ready to pop
I want that shit on the rocks

That liquor turn me to a freak (uh, freak)
That liquor turn me to a freak (uh, freak)
That henny get me off the leash (uh)
One more shot, I'm super tweaked (uh, tweaked)
That liquor turn me to a freak (freak, freak)
That liquor turn me to a freak (uh, freak)
This pimpin' got him super weak (uh)
Boy, come and put that thang on me (uh, freak)

Brr, he calling from private (private)
I'm drunk as f*ck leaving the club, I might just pull up and surprise him (uh)
He put me in Gucci and take me up out of that shit like my stylist (ooh)
Love to play with the money, I'm childish (haha)
They say money feel better than sex
He say this pussy feel like a deposit (wrr)
Goddamn, shawty got a wham (wham)
What's beef to a bitch in a Lamb? (Skrrt)
Why these bitches always hating on me? (Why?)
I don't even throw salt on my rim (ooh)
Couldn't leave a bitch alone if I pay 'em (ooh)
Pretty face, no waist, yes, ma'am
Had to see it in person so he know that it ain't no scam (ha)
Bitch please (huh), this that make you take it to the head
Bitch please, this that drink until it's nothing left
I want you all to myself
Uh, and I don't kiss and tell
Trying to get you back to the hotel and make you lose your breath (huh)

That liquor turn me to a freak (uh, freak)
That liquor turn me to a freak (uh, freak)
That henny get me off the leash (uh)
One more shot, I'm super tweaked (uh, tweaked)
That liquor turn me to a freak (freak, freak)
That liquor turn me to a freak (uh, freak)
This pimpin' got him super weak (uh)
Boy, come and put that thang on me (uh, freak)

Tweak
Earl on the beat
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Alyssa Michelle Stephens, Isaac Earl Bynum, Randall Hammers
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Squeeze

[ Featuring Megan Thee Stallion ]

They all wanna squeeze it
Squeeze it, squeeze it, squeeze it, squeeze it
They all wanna squeeze it
Squeeze it, squeeze it, squeeze it, squeeze it
They all wanna

Talk like a boss, f*ck like a freak
I been that bitch, check the receipts (uh)
Hold on, wait a minute
Step on bitches like a Greek
Wetter than Niagra, I'm a real sight to see
Got that jelly, how I make it move Crocodile Kelly, cost 'bout a coupe (oh)
Calling your celly, gone off the pool (brr)
Drunk in the telly, sendin' him nudes
'Cause

I'm feelin' freaky
Freaky as I wanna, wanna
Ooh, don't you wanna, wanna?
Come through and please me
Freaky as you wanna, wanna

Ooh, don't you wanna make it juicy?
Watch me make it squeeze (squeeze)
Tropical and fruity
Bless you like a sneeze (sneeze)
I can make it juicy
Watch me make it squeeze (squeeze)
Walk up in the function

They all wanna squeeze (squeeze)
Squeeze it, squeeze it, squeeze it, squeeze it, squeeze it, squeeze it
They all wanna squeeze it
Squeeze it, squeeze it, squeeze it, squeeze it
They all wanna

Ayy, you can tell by my watch I ain't broke
And I ain't sucking no shit that ain't finna make me choke
I'm a dog, nigga, but I ain't your bitch
You wanna run shit, you probably need to go and buy a treadmill
Squeeze, put it on freeze
This the snack that smile back, say cheese
Body so cut, and I ain't never had surgery
Humps ain't been this lit since Fergie
Hoes beef with me when ain't nothing else working
I got bars and I ain't never lost service
Hoes talk down but their daddy think I'm perfect
Looking at his phone screen, pumping on that Jergens, ah
I'm feelin' freaky
Ayy, up, down, side-to-side
Got his mouth open wide saying, "Ah, ah, ah"

I can make it juicy (yuh)
Watch me make it squeeze (ah)
Tropical and fruity (yuh, yuh)
Bless you like a sneeze
I can make it juicy (mwah)
Watch me make it squeeze (squeeze)
Walk up in the function (yuh, yuh, yuh, ah)

They all wanna squeeze
Squeeze it, squeeze it, squeeze it, squeeze it, squeeze it (yuh), squeeze it (yuh)
They all wanna
Squeeze it, squeeze it (yuh), squeeze it, squeeze it, squeeze it
They all wanna (ah)
I'm feelin' freaky

Ayy, ayy, ayy
He want a hot girl and he tryna hit the lotto
I'm feelin' freaky
They all wanna
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Alyssa Michelle Stephens, Jeff Baranowski, Jeremy Reeves, Jonathan Yip, Kameron Glasper, Luke Milano, Megan Pete, Randall Hammers, Ray Romulus
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Good 2 You

[Ciara]
One, two, three, four
Uh, yeah, yeah
Uh, yeah, yeah
Uh, yeah, yeah
Uh

You my little fav, tryna be your girl (Trying)
When you gon' find another me? (Huh? Huh, my baby?)
I can't read your mind, won't you tell me more?
But I think you were made for me (Huh? Huh, my baby?)
I want you, you want me
Just don't change
And l'Il be good to you
I want you
Just don't change this lovin' (Hey)
And I'll be good to you

[Latto]
Face down, cheeks up, that's the way I like to f*ck
A-Town, peace up, that's the way I give it up for real (For real)
Like daddy, let me see your grill (Your grill), need a nigga in the streets for real (For real)
With a ass like this, he can tell I ain't missing no meals (Damn)
You know I don't need you, but I want you
Thought you was player, let me coach you
Baby, they don't know you like I know you
Introduce you to this Southern culture
Sugar, honey, ice tea, just how you like, sweet
Finger-licking good, got me dripping down your white tee

I'm a dime, and niggas' twelve the way they out here tryna cuff
I'm his Mrs., we go trippin', give me kisses, gas me up
I can tell how you walk that you him (Him), everything that you do come trim (Trim)
Ooh-ooh-ooh, boy, you my fav 'cause you ain't like none of them

[Ciara]
You my little fav, tryna be your girl (Trying)
When you gon' find another me? (Huh? Huh, my baby?)
I can't read your mind, won't you tell me more?
But I think you were made for me (Huh? Huh, my baby?)
I want you, you want me
Just don't change
And l'Il be good to you
I want you
Just don't change this lovin' (Hey)
And I'll be good to you

[Latto]
Red bitch, red bottoms, yeah, look good, f*ck better, yeah
If I was you, I'd probably step too (Too)
Lamborghini Huracán Coupé (Skrrt)
He said that I'm his fantasy, he want a bitch like New New (Uh)
Ain't going back and forth with no bitches, y'all hoes delulu (Brr)
One time for the housewives, one time for the pretty bitches going outside
Two times for the hoes finessing (Finessing), popping that oochie na-na
I'm the one, get you a me, money long, long Peachtree
Double C cha-nay-nay me, l'll never let him "Lil' girl" me (Tuh)

I'm a dime, and niggas' twelve the way they out here tryna cuff
I'm his Mrs., we go trippin', give me kisses, gas me up
I can tell how you walk that you him (Him), everything that you do come trim (Trim)
Ooh-ooh-ooh, boy, you my fav 'cause you ain't like none of them

[Ciara]
You my little fav, tryna be your girl
When you gon' find another me? (Huh? Huh, my baby?)
I can't read your mind, won't you tell me more?
But I think you were made for me (Huh? Huh, my baby?)
I want you, you want me
Just don't change
And l'Il be good to you
I want you
Just don't change this lovin' (Hey)
And I'll be good to you

Now don't have me break this thing down for nothing
Now I wanna see y'all on your baddest behavior
Lend me some sugar, I am your neighbor
Ah
Here we go, oh sh—
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Alyssa Michelle Stephens, Andre Benjamin, Christopher Wongwon, Ciara Harris, Darryl Clemons, David Hobbs, Fletcher Redd, Jocelyn Donald, Kevin Andre Price, Luther Campbell, Mark Ross, Randall Hammers
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Look What You Did

[ Featuring Mariah The Scientist ]

And I'm feeling something new, I can't explain it
Heart racin'
And it only beats for you, I can't resist
Oh, look what you did

Yeah, this one for my bae
Yeah, this one for my-
Yeah, this one for Big Daddy
He be keeping me happy
He know how to relax me
Calling for you like a taxi
I feel safe being nasty
Bae, you don't gotta ask me
Got me acting a fool for it
Get it wet like a pool for it
He spend all of his time
I spend all of his time, time, time, time
He know how to con- (tuh)
He know how to control me
But don't ever control me, 'cause he know me

It's all about you whatever I do
I could be a player but it's not my truth
You need me and I need you, you, you (you)
If it's on your wrist then, it's on mine too
I could play the part for a nigga like you
You got me and I got you (uh)

And I'm feeling something new, I can't explain it
Heart racin'
And it only beats for you, I can't resist
Oh, look what you did

I was just playing with these niggas, baby
Look what you did
Look what you did, look what-
I was just playin' with these niggas, baby
Look what you did
Look what you did to me

He don't play 'bout me, damn right (right)
He done turned a P bitch to a wife (wife)
A real nigga gon' put you on game
A lame nigga gon' cheat, gon' lie
A real nigga gon' lead, gon' guide (tuh)
Make a real bitch swallow her pride
He done bought me all the bags and rides
But my biggest flex is knowing that dick mine (tuh)
Pay rent, lightwork
I got his heart, I got it first (tuh)
He teach, and I learn (uh)
Everything that I get, I deserve (skrrt)
You know what I'm saying, he him, I'm her
You know what I'm saying, got my neck on brr
I'll pay a bitch to take my nigga
I'm the one so you know I come first (tuh)

It's all about you whatever I do
I could be a player but it's not my truth
You need me and I need you, you, you (you)
If it's on your wrist then, it's on mine too
I could play the part for a nigga like you
You got me and I got you (uh)

And I'm feeling something new, I can't explain it
Heart racin'
And it only beats for you, I can't resist
Oh, look what you did

I said I'll never fall in love again and it wasn't true
Said it was the last time, the last time
Until I met you
And then Big Latto called to tell me some
She fell in love too
I be a player, dawg
I asked, "Who playing with who?"
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Alyssa Michelle Stephens, Atia Boggs, Daoud Anthony, Darryl Clemons, Kevin Andre Price, Mariah Buckles
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Prized Possession

[ Featuring Teezo Touchdown ]

Yeah
I been, I been feelin' out of my mind
Feelin' like it's out of my control
I gotta let you, I gotta let you, I gotta let you know
Feelin' like, feelin' like

Okay
Damn, I get tired of learnin' my lesson
Tired of stressin' tired of dealin' with niggas that I gotta question
'Member when we were both playin' it cool, but then it became an obsession?
Soon as I let you hit with no protection, then you got overprotective
Don't know why I keep goin' back, goin' back knowin' this shit ain't progressin'
Shit is depressin', worst nigga ever, still better than all of my exes
Be my nigga and not a detective, no, you ain't going through messages
I say it's toxic, you say it's passion, usin' your love like a weapon (a weapon)
I wanted more reassurance, affection, you went and bought me a necklace
Like you don't even get it, I get in my feelings, you mad I'm tryin' to express them
So how we gon' settle the differences if we both bringin' up petty shit?
And neither of us in the mood, both in the room, ignorin' the elephant
Don't get me started on the jealousy
Watchin' all my friends' story, tryna question me about the nigga next to me
I won't let you get the best of me
F*ck around and miss your blessing
Gotta treat me like a trophy, I ain't talkin' 'bout the ones in your collection
No surprise when I get to steppin'
I'm the prize, l'm not a possession (possession)

What's the point of us both sharin' our location?
It's obvious that me and you in different spaces
I give you my fifty, I get twenty-five
Don't you know forever is a very long time?
I'm waitin' for whenever you decide to reply
I'm hearin' stories 'bout you that I hope are all lies
I think it's time for us to have that conversation

Mm-hmm
Where should we start? Just give me a minute
Where should we start? Just give me a minute
Mm-hmm
Where should we start? Just give me a-
Okay, let's kick it off from the beginning

Remember when I went through your phone and I ain't find nothin' wrong? (Mm-mm)
I feel like ever since then, me and you ain't been friends (mm-mm)
I feel like ever since then, all we do is pretend
Pretend that it ain't over with
When we both know the trust has been shot
You forgave, never forgot
Slammin' doors and what not
Now I know what not to do to the next
Reflect, not deflect, protect, not project
Be the first to admit I was wrong
Baby, I was wrong

What's the point of us both sharin' our location?
It's obvious that me and you in different spaces
The alphabet without U is twenty-five
Don't you know forever is a very long time?
The shit you textin' back, it got me rollin' my eyes
I'm waitin' for whenever you decide to reply
But are you even ready for that conversation?
I think it's time for us to have that conversation
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Alyssa Stephens, Aaron Thomas, Daoud Anthony, Darryl Clemons, Kevin Andre Price, Ozan Yuldirim
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




S/O to Me

COUPE
Uh, yeah, okay
Yeah, yeah
The biggest

This rap game, I always had desire to try it myself
Things wasn't perfect at home, but I could still lie to myself
Smile in my mama face, and then I go cry to myself
Other than talking to Brooke, I used to just hide how I felt
Knew I was destined to be somebody with diamonds and wealth
Not one of these bitches that they signing and slide on the shelf
If nobody wanna hear Alyssa, I'm signing myself
Talking in positive affirmations, reminding myself
Niggas got agendas with me, act like they dying to help
I ain't f*cking no one for a feature, go find someone else
I know I'm sexy as hell, and I ain't denying it sells
Stand in the mirror naked sometimes and admire myself
Keep the G-Wagon, f*ck nigga, I'll buy it myself
DM full of famous niggas just saying hi to themself
I don't say shit back and they still reply to themself
You niggas thirsty as f*ck, and I need some time to myself
Since high school, niggas loved begging for numbers to call
Since high school, bitches hated, we been ignoring it all
Now it's up with bitches talking spicy, I'm warring with y'all
And I ain't really letting up on y'all 'til the coroner call
Bye sis, funny thing about it, you can't look me in my eye, sis
But let's get back to how my life is, you hoes is a puzzlin' case
It clearly doesn't matter if you younger or double my age
You bitches is barking too much, I wish I could muzzle your face
Karma will deal with you, though, I promise, your judgement awaits
I got a crush on a thug, and yes, he in love with my ass, but he more in love with my face
And that's saying a lot 'cause, clearly, I'm slim in the waist
But somehow, the cakes f*cked around and doubled in weight
I don't double date 'cause my man think all of you niggas corny, he doesn't relate
You fighting for radio play, he fighting a government case
Bitch, get the f*ck out my face like

I don't play about us (on god)
I do this for me and everything that I was, nigga (tuh)
This shoutout for me (for me)
Big shoutout to me (to me, huh)
Uh, I don't play about us (on god)
I do this for me and everything that I was, nigga (yeah, tuh)
This shoutout for me (for me, huh)
Big shoutout to me (to me, huh)

Shoutout to myself
Who the hardest out? Bitch, it's latto by herself
Ice is just water when it melts
Wipe you down, I got plenty towels on the shelf, it's easy
A white Ferrari might get me wetter than Fiji shores
Nails in the coffin while I'm getting my manicures and my pedicures
Your dream man is someone you settle for
I sit around and daydream 'bout how I could settle the score
I'm down to stoop lower than most of you hoes' credit score
Don't play coy with me, you know what you headed for
This shit is not a metaphor, this shit that we ready for
My sisters all loose cannons, baby, so don't start 'em
I don't want to hear about menopause or postpartum
I'm not wasting no time begging you hoes pardon
I'm just tryna sip a little wine in the rose garden
Be in a silk robe, indulge in aromatherapy you hoes sick in the head, y'all need to go to therapy
I'm tryna decompress in Turks with essential oil
Latto getting spoiled 'cause she thicker than engine oil
You evil eye bitches got me sageing the whole room
You aging in the face, but whatever, that's old news
The crown is coming home soon, I'll sit on the throne soon
And to the next girl with dreams of making some bold moves
The love they never showed me is love that I'll show you
'Cause I'm a real southern bitch and I told you
Gold tooth, gold hoops, and soul food
Yeah, everything I'm saying is so true
Shoutout to myself, to myself

I don't play about us (on god)
I do this for me and everything that I was, nigga (tuh)
This shoutout for me (for me)
Big shoutout to me (to me, huh)
Uh, I don't play about us (on god)
I do this for me and everything that I was, nigga (yeah, tuh)
This shoutout for me (for me, huh)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Alyssa Michelle Stephens, Daniel Esguerra, Edward Maclin Cooper III, Mino Drerup
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Put It On Da Floor

Go Grizz
Squat made the beat
What's happenin'? (Haha)
Big Latto

Rip me out the plastic, I been actin' brand new
Bitches actin' like they runnin' shit, they really ran through
I'll spend that five hundred 'fore I ever trap you
They thought I was gon' fall off, I hate to bring you bad news
Threw so many racks, a bitch can't even see the floor
From Atlanta to LA, the only time I'm back and forth
Cheap niggas make you pick, rich niggas get you both
Gave the Bentley to valet and let that nigga drive the boat
Shh, be quiet, be quiet, let me pop off
Leave the club sloppy drunk, come home and get my rocks off
Heard 'Bitch from Da Souf', he tryna see me knock his socks off
Told them bitches meet me at the top, think they got lost
Tuh, I'm on go like Grizz
She thought I would kiss her ass, she must ain't took her meds
Shit around my neck, it cost a arm and leg
Swear that nigga set for life, I let him get me preg

I done done it all, feel like Shawty LO
Laughin' to the bank, but shit is not a joke
Say she got a problem? Imaginary smoke
Bitches said it's up, then put it on the floor
I done done it all, feel like Shawty LO
Laughin' to the bank but shit is not a joke
Say she got a problem? Imaginary smoke
Bitches said it's up then put it on the floor

I don't know, what y'all been told (told)
Bet yo' mans know, if you don't? What's happenin'

Smokin' on that gas, blunt big as Coi Leray
Bitches like to run their mouths but I'm the type to run the fade
When your diamonds hit like this, you don't ever see the shade
Got the key to my city, they gave me a holiday, bitch (bitch)
All kinda shit (uh)
Let me pull my diamond tester out, these bitches counterfeit (what?)
Better keep my name up out her mouth, they been tryin' it (boom)
If it's beef then let me know, baby, why you hidin' it? (Haha, ha)
And I heard about your coochie, bitch
Pits like your pussy, we all know that cat is givin' fish (bitch)
When I send that eggplant that nigga know what time it is
My ex crazy 'bout me, better be ready to die in it

I done done it all, feel like Shawty LO (L-O)
Laughin' to the bank (haha) but shit is not a joke (never)
Say she got a problem? Imaginary smoke (phew)
Bitches said it's up (What?) then put it on the floor
I done done it all , feel like Shawty LO (Shawty LO)
Laughin' to the bank but shit is not a joke (not a joke)
Say she got a problem? Imaginary smoke (brr)
Bitches said it's up then put it on the floor (pew)

I don't know, what y'all been told (told)
Bet yo' mans know, if you don't? What's happenin'

Put that shit on the floor then
Y'all bitches like to talk, put that shit on the floor then
All this imaginary smoke, all the he say, she say, you feel me
Let me know
Just let me know
Just let me know
Just let me know
Haha, ha, put it on the floor, bitch
Yeah, keep all that
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Alyssa Michelle Stephens, Broderick Thompson-Smith, Carlos Walker, Cory Way, Daryl Clemons Jr., Kevin Andre Price, Richard Wayne Sims Jr.
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, 30318 MUSIC PUB, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Put it On Da Floor Again

(Go Grizz)
Ah (Squat made the beat)
What's happenin'? (Haha)
Bardi
Big Latto
Bah

Rip me out the plastic, I been actin' brand new
Bitches actin' like they runnin' shit, they really ran through
I'll spend that five hundred 'fore I ever trap you
They thought I was gon' fall off, I hate to bring you bad news
Threw so many racks, a bitch can't even see the floor
From Atlanta to LA, the only time I'm back and forth
Cheap niggas make you pick, rich niggas get you both
Gave the Bentley to valet and let that nigga drive the boat
Shh, be quiet, be quiet, let me pop off
Leave the club sloppy drunk, come home and get my rocks off
Heard 'Bitch from Da Souf', he tryna see me knock his socks off
Told them bitches meet me at the top, think they got lost
Tuh, I'm on go like Grizz
She thought I would kiss her ass, she must ain't took her meds
Tuh, shit around my neck, it cost a arm and leg
Swear that nigga set for life, I let him get me preg'

I done done it all (tuh), feel like Shawty Lo (tuh)
Laughin' to the bank (tuh) but shit is not a joke (tuh)
Say she got a problem? (tuh) Imaginary smoke (tuh)
Bitches said it's up (tuh) then put it on the floor (tuh)
I done done it all (tuh), feel like Shawty Lo (tuh)
Laughin' to the bank (tuh) but shit is not a joke (tuh)
Say she got a problem? (tuh) Imaginary smoke (tuh)
Bitches said it's up (tuh) then put it on the floor (tuh)

I don't know, what y'all been told (told)
Bet yo' mans know, if you don't? What's happenin'

Put a ribbon on me, I been actin' brand new
I ain't smokin' on no za', lil' bitch, I'm smokin' on you
Put your bestie in a pack and now I'm smokin' her too
I been ballin' so damn hard, could've went to LSU, huh
Got so many chains on, I can't even see my throat
These hoes don't do enough that's why I always do the most
Broke niggas give the dick, rich niggas sponsor goals
Only thing a nigga get from me for free is free the bros
Let me pop it off
Point me to the biggest slut, babygirl, come top it off
She said she don't like me 'cause she love me, duh, knock it off
That bitch made some pages just to sub me but I block 'em all
All these hoes is mid
Got her lurkin' on my page before she feed her kids, huh
Shittin' on these bitches, dunkin' on they heads
Get these hoes some melatonin, put they ass to bed (bitch)
Nigga, cry for what? Bitch, these are Denim Tears (huh)
I'm sexy dancin' in the house, I feel like Britney Spears
So put it on the floor just like they career
Why they got all these bodies in a couple years?

I done done it all (tuh), feel like Shawty Lo (Shawty Lo)
Laughin' to the bank (tuh) but shit is not a joke (not a joke)
Say she got a problem? (tuh) Imaginary smoke (brr)
Bitches said it's up then put it on the floor (pew)

I don't know, what y'all been told (told)
Bet yo' mans know, if you don't? What's happenin'

Yeah, it's givin' cunt, mm-hmm
I'm in the booth playin' with my pussy, bitch, ha
Big Latto, big Bardi, it's a real bitch party, hahaha
Put it on the floor again, bitch
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Alyssa Stephens, Belcalis Almanzar, Born Immaculate, Broderick Thompson Smith, Carlos Walker, Darryl Clemons, John Norris III, Julius Rivera III, Kevin Andre Price, Randall Hammers, Richard Sims
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




Sunday Service

(Go Grizz)
(Pooh, you a fool for this one)
(B-B-Bankroll Got It)

I don't sing R&B but, bitch, I'm really her, f*ck wrong with niggas?
How you let him cheat and take him back? Must be your only nigga (the f*ck?)
I get loud just like my weed, I don't watch my tone with niggas
I hang up the phone on niggas (click)
You ain't my daddy, bitch, I'm big mama (bitch)
Every time y'all book me with them hoes, it's gon' be big drama (grrah)
Twenty black Suburbans, we pull up like Sunday Service (skrrt)
I just want a one on one, don't know why she so nervous (boop)
F*ck what these hoes sayin' 'cause my nigga say I'm perfect (tuh)

Anyway, body count so low, I might say I'm a virgin (ooh)
Any day, I could switch my car just like I switch my purses (skrrt)
Andale, quick to cut him off if he don't serve no purpose
You a clown and I'm allergic, niggas straight up out the circus (haha)
It's the nerve for me, these niggas burnt, they third degree
He callin' tryin' to work it out, I'd rather make him work for me (the f*ck?)
He can't tell if it's authentic or it's surgery, please
Lil Nas X the only nigga curvin' me

I don't sing R&B but, bitch, I'm really her, f*ck wrong with niggas?
How you let him cheat and take him back? Must be your only nigga (the f*ck?)
I get loud just like my weed, I don't watch my tone with niggas
I hang up the phone on niggas (click)
You ain't my daddy, bitch, I'm big mama (bitch)
Every time y'all book me with them hoes, it's gon' be big drama (grrah)
Twenty black Suburbans, we pull up like Sunday Service (skrrt)
I just want a one on one, don't know why she so nervous (boop, ha)
F*ck what these hoes sayin' 'cause my nigga say I'm perfect (tuh)

Tell the truth, oh, I'm not that cute? Bet you won't ask your boo
He get money, I get money too, like, who gon' trick on who? (Who?)
These bitches corny, soon as monkey see, then you know monkey do
Do you rap or do you tweet? 'Cause I can't tell, get in the booth, bitch (bitch)
Stop all that motherf*ckin' yellin', ho (yellin', ho, why?)
'Cause I ain't buyin' what you're sellin', ho (sellin', ho)
Think I'm the shit? Bitch, I know it, ho
Jesus walked on water, I got ice boilin' though (aha)
Miss me with that sucker shit, I'm not your baby mama
Blocked his ass on everything, he in my DM's writin' albums (brr)
Better hold your nigga tight, 'fore I make you come up off him
Say two wrongs don't make a right, but I'm the type get one up on 'em

I don't sing R&B but, bitch, I'm really her, f*ck wrong with niggas?
How you let him cheat and take him back? Must be your only nigga (the f*ck?)
I get loud just like my weed, I don't watch my tone with niggas
I hang up the phone on niggas (click)
You ain't my daddy, bitch, I'm big mama (bitch)
Every time y'all book me with them hoes, it's gon' be big drama (grrah)
Twenty black Suburbans, we pull up like Sunday Service (skrrt)
I just want a one on one, don't know why she so nervous (boop)
F*ck what these hoes sayin' 'cause my nigga say I'm perfect (tuh)

Tuh
Twenty black Suburbans, we pull up like Sunday Service
Anyway (anyway)
Come on
F*ck what these hoes sayin' 'cause my nigga say I'm perfect
Tuh
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Alyssa Stephens, Darryl Clemons, Joel Banks, Kevin Andre Price, Matthew Banks, Randall Hammers
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Sunday Service (Remix)

[Latto]
Do you rap or do you tweet? 'Cause I can't tell, get in the booth, bitch
(Go Grizz)
(Pooh, you a fool for this one)
(B-B-Bankroll Got It)

[Latto & Flo Milli]
I don't sing R&B, but, bitch, I'm really her, f*ck wrong with niggas?
How you let him cheat and take him back? Must be your only nigga (The f*ck?)
I get loud just like my weed, I don't watch my tone with niggas
I hang up the phone on niggas (Click)
You ain't my daddy, bitch, I'm big mama (Bitch)
Every time y'all book me with them hoes, it's gon' be big drama (Grrah)
Twenty black Suburbans, we pull up like Sunday Service (Skrrt)
I just want a one-on-one, don't know why she so nervous (Bah)
F*ck what these hoes sayin' 'cause my nigga say I'm perfect, anyway (Flo Milli shit)

[Flo Milli]
Since a jit, thought I was grown (Haha), I ain't never watched my tone (Never)
I would cry over these niggas, but a bitch never alone (Aw)
Wanna fight me 'bout some dick 'cause you checkin' niggas' phones (Huh?)
I hope that ain't your only nigga, he ain't never comin' home (Damn)
Ho, I'll take over your city (City), bitch, you pussy, you a kitty (Kitty)
We pull up like Sunday Service, beat a bitch and show no pity (Haha)
I don't sing R&B, but when I ride that dick, we playin' Jodeci (Ooh)
A lotta ass, but I'm petite, lil' chocolate, I'm his favorite treat (Favorite treat)
And my Haitian say I'm perfect, try me, he gon' curse you
She be tough online, but sweet in person, where the other version? (Bitch)
Killin' hoes, they ridin' off in hearses (Bye)
Why the f*ck you let me meet your nigga if you know he thirsty? Stupid bitch
[Latto]
I don't sing R&B, but, bitch, I'm really her, f*ck wrong with niggas?
How you let him cheat and take him back? Must be your only nigga (The f*ck?)
I get loud just like my weed, I don't watch my tone with niggas
I hang up the phone on niggas (Click)
You ain't my daddy, bitch, I'm big mama (Bitch)
Every time y'all book me with them hoes, it's gon' be big drama (Grrah)
Twenty black Suburbans, we pull up like Sunday Service (Skrrt)
I just want a one-on-one, don't know why she so nervous (Bah)
F*ck what these hoes sayin' 'cause my nigga say I'm perfect, anyway

[Megan Thee Stallion]
Hmm, y'all know who the f*ck it is
The most loved, the most hated
The highest anticipated
The one your nigga wish he dated, hahaha
Real hot girl shit, ayy

[Megan Thee Stallion & GloRilla]
Bitches must be tryna save the planet, recyclin' all my old niggas (Recyclin' all my old niggas)
Trends you think you settin', I had that shit on in my old pictures (Yeah)
I'm standin' on business (Yeah), he actin' up, then I'ma pivot (I'ma pivot)
What the f*ck I look like trippin' on one out of seven billion? (Hahaha)
I meet the goalpost when it's movin', they say I can't, then I do it (Yeah)
Your favorite rapper might not like me, but his boo gon' jam my music (Ah)
Blue checks, big influence, chain glow like Hallelujah (On the gang)
I see you barkin' at me for attention, I'll never throw the bone to ya (Ayy)
Ass on Texas, niggas wanna hold it (Mwah, baow)
Player face card, bitch, you know I ain't foldin' (Baow, baow)
Baddie, make a ho mad like Rollie (Yeah, yeah)
Diamonds get tested, we see who the coldest
These bitches tryna be funny, they joking
Everything Megan put out, I own it
I don't care who you think hotter than me
Ain't a bitch stepped I ain't smokin'
He was in my DMs beggin', now he in my mentions hatin' (In my mentions hatin')
That's exactly why you bitch-ass niggas get no conversation (Shh)
Throwin' salt gon' kill a snail, but won't do nothin' to a player (Yeah, yeah, do nothin' to a player)
All it did was make more niggas throw the coin to me like a wishing well (Ah)

[Latto]
I don't sing R&B, but, bitch, I'm really her, f*ck wrong with niggas?
How you let him cheat and take him back? Must be your only nigga (The f*ck?)
I get loud just like my weed, I don't watch my tone with niggas
I hang up the phone on niggas (Click)
You ain't my daddy, bitch, I'm big mama (Bitch)
Every time y'all book me with them hoes, it's gon' be big drama (Grrah)
Twenty black Suburbans, we pull up like Sunday Service (Skrrt)
I just want a one-on-one, don't know why she so nervous (Bah)
F*ck what these hoes sayin' 'cause my nigga say I'm perfect (Tuh)

[Latto & Flo Milli]
He a bird to me, these bitches hot like third-degree
Tuh
Twenty black Suburbans, we pull up like Sunday Service
Anyway (Anyway)
Bitch, you a clown and I'm allergic
Come on
F*ck what these hoes sayin', 'cause my nigga say I'm perfect (Tuh)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Alyssa Stephens, Darryl Clemons, Joel Banks, Kevin Andre Price, Matthew Banks, Randall Hammers
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Back to: Latto


Sugar Honey Iced Tea is the third studio album by American rapper Latto. It was released through Streamcut and RCA Records on August 9, 2024. It is supported by three singles: "Put It on da Floor", "Sunday Service", and "Big Mama". The album features guest appearances from Young Nudy, Hunxho, Coco Jones, Megan Thee Stallion, Ciara, Mariah the Scientist, Teezo Touchdown, Cardi B, and Flo Milli.

It serves as the follow-up to her second studio album, 777 (2022).
-Wikipedia
Performed By: Latto
Featuring: Young Nudy, Hunxho, Coco Jones, Megan Thee Stallion, Ciara, Mariah the Scientist, Teezo Touchdown, Cardi B, Flo Milli
Genre(s): Rap
Producer(s): 9am, Bankroll Got It, Coupe, Daoud, Earl on the Beat, Go Grizzly, Ink, Jonas Jeberg, JetsonMade, Kaine, Kid Hazel, Kid Masterpiece, Latto, Derrick Milano, Oz, Pooh Beatz, Saint Mino, Squat, The Stereotypes
Length: 62:00
Released: August 9th, 2024
Year: 2024

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