Tory Lanez – B.B.W.W X Fake Show lyrics

Part 1: B.B.W.W

Yeah, bought a new white Wraith, last night, nearly crashed it
Spinnin’ out on a highway, 720 in a Aspin
Bad bitch in the passeng’, seen her whole life flashin’
Ray whippin’ a McLaren right behind me, nigga, spun right past him
Thank God I’m alive
Thank God but I probably gotta spend a bank job on a ride
Back bumper, white Wraith, cost 19k, uh
But that ain’t nothin’ in my safe, uh
All you rappers ain’t safe, uh, let me say it with the bass, uh
All you rappers ain’t safe, uh, all you singers ain’t safe, uh
First single had me in the crib puttin’ platinum plaques into place
Dropped Luv, went top Pop, Club, everything just grace
Grammy-nominated on the first album, motherfuckers see the face
Look at me
I know these niggas is trippin’, these niggas is shook of me
Bust down, bust down, bust down, Raphael, what you did to me?
I need the money at last, I need the money advance
Tell me the money is near, I ain’t comin’ out the van
Key close, gotta keep hoes by the G code, got three hoes in a G4
Got A, B, C, D, F, G, X, Y and Z hoes
I’m still ballin’ like D. Rose, I’m still poppin’ on Vevos
I’m still lookin’ like, wait, still sippin’ on tea soles
My dick giant like Fifo, if you need know
Money singin’ in a C-Note like Do-Re-Mi-Fa-So-La-Ti-Do
Did it for my niggas back home
In a fiend house, sellin’ crack on a trap phone in a crack home
Winter time gettin’ cold, had to go to Bramaleas
Steal a jacket up out of Jack Jones
Rogers had me gettin’ mad at the phone bill, switchin’ to the black phone, yeah
I had to switch to a Telus, ain’t really shit you could tell us
All of y’all niggas is jealous, ah
Runnin’ through the check, money upset, all of these niggas is mad at me
Ten chains, buy ten rings on a nigga, lookin’ like the swag daddy
I can’t keep a girlfriend, too busy tryna make the bag happy
Cali girly throw it back at me in a back ally and a cat daddy, yeah
I say bust down, bust down, I throw dick at your bitch
She gon’ touchdown, touchdown, bitch, I’m up now, what now?
Fuck ’bout what you talkin’ ’bout, that shit sound like us now
My shit sound like what now?

Part 2: Fake Show

Prayin’ that my exes don’t ever get famous
Or flex on me with a rapper or an entertainer
Life in this business come with these different dangers
You rather lie to me, tell me you still an angel
How you still an angel?
You be lyin’, you just fuck some niggas on me and claim you see it from different angles
I see the danger
I find it crazy, shit, I know you as a good girl
Tipper flow, tripper turned stripper
Last night, call, I had sex off liquor
Trash bag full of every dollar at the bar
That you kneelin’ down to pick up for these niggas throwin’ it up
You hate it when niggas gettin’ dirty with they ones though
They the reason why you ’bout to get them Louboutins though
They the reason why you ’bout to get your rent paid
Tell them hoes throwin’ shade, they should wear their best shades
She gon’ make a thousand on a bad day
10 hour shift and she don’t ever take a half-day
She told me dancin’ was her pathway
And she only did it to the fullest ’cause she hate to leave it halfway
Hol’ up, bust it, I can’t, trust it
Fuckin’ with you got me goin’ way up out the budget
Pour a shot up, this is for the last night
Last night, before I lost you to the fast life

Good girl gone bad, you gon’ do your thing
Anything to get the bag, gon’ do your thing
If she ever do it, she gon’ do it for the bag (ooh)
If she ever do it, she gon’ do it for the, do it for the
(Skinny girl in my donk)
Good girl gone bad, you gon’ do your thing
(She don’t dance but she dance)
Puttin’ on a fake show, you gon’ do your thing
(She lookin’ for the bag)
If she ever do it, she gon’ do it for the bag
(She don’t dance but she dance)
If she ever do it, she gon’ do it for the—

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