Sweatpants

Terror Jr

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    Give me yours, give me yours
    Give, give me yours
    Give me yours, give me yours
    Give, give me yours

    I know a girl, she a fitness model
    She do coke and hit the bottle
    Fake tits, plastic in her hips, poison on her lips
    I wanna grow weed up north
    I don't like big city shit no more
    I wanna be left alone
    Small ass circle just fucking with my own

    You can tell them that you ride
    But you ain't gon' die
    Could flex all up on them socials
    But you ain't that hot

    I got my sweatpants on, ooh, ooh
    I'm a comfy bitch, get used to it
    Fuckin' hoes with my sweatpants on, ooh, ooh
    Get over it, I'm a comfy bitch

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    (Fucking bitches like)
    Give me yours, give me yours, give me yours
    Give, give me yours
    Give me yours, give me yours, give me yours
    Give, give me yours

    I'm just me, at the sunset, against the headrest
    In my summer dress, cashing big checks like I'm under dressed
    Really over your head when you're givin' me yours
    Givin' me yours, yours
    You're calling that work but it's chores
    Calling that rich but it's poor

    You can tell them that you ride
    But you ain't gon' die
    Could flex all up on them socials
    I got my

    I got my sweatpants on, ooh, ooh
    I'm a comfy bitch, get used to it
    Fuckin' hoes with my sweatpants on, ooh, ooh
    Get over it, I'm a comfy bitch

    (Fucking bitches like)
    Give me yours, give me yours, give me yours
    Give, give me yours
    Give me yours, give me yours, give me yours
    Give, give me yours

    Fucking bitches with my sweatpants on, get over it

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