Sucka For Baddies lyrics

by

Kyle Richh


[Chorus]
He a sucka for this baddie
I love a rich n*gga buy me sh*t, I call him daddy
pus*y so wet, he can see it through the panties
Put it in his face, said it taste like-taste like candy
He a sucka for this baddie
If he ain't buying sh*t, I can never call him daddy
Pretty mixed b*tch, no hand with the [?]
If his place is hitting, then I might send him the addy

[Verse 1]
Swinging on his di*k, I'm finna drop on it
Champagne party, when I eat I'm 'bouta [?] on it
Being [?] b*tch, if I do it they gon' hop on it
Box so good, make 'em wanna put a lock on it
I got him coming back, oh he a fiend, he want that dope again
We can't be f*cking if you broke, I need some dough to spend
I'm outside, 2 AM with my homie friends
Late night, I get that text, he want that throat again
If I throw it back, he might just cash out
Tell him pull my hair, no it's real, he can snatch on it
f*ck them good girls, where my b*tches acting ratchet?
Let him [?], see his di*k I wanna grab it

[Chorus]
He a sucka for this baddie
I love a rich n*gga buy me sh*t, I call him daddy
pus*y so wet, he can see it through the panties
Put it in his face, said it taste like-taste like candy
He a sucka for this baddie
If he ain't buying sh*t, I can never call him daddy
Pretty mixed b*tch, no hand with the [?]
If his place is hitting, then I might send him the addy
[Verse 2]
I ain't f*cking for no features, tell him suck my di*k
They try to put me on a shelf, b*tches mad that I'm lit
These city n*ggas talking sh*t, had they nose on my clit
You went and got a BBL, he still don't want that sh*t
Got these b*tches acting shady, I'm the shadiest
I could [?] money, n*gga in a twenty mile radius
Ain't sh*t free, you gotta pay for this
But you, he pulling out
But with me, he finna stay in this
Sprinkle, sprinkle on his box
See the chain, that's the rocks
b*tch I be really in the deli, I got credit with my opps
The good sucka, I'm the best
If I leave his boy alone, he gon' feel it in his chest
She thinking that's her n*gga, 'till I send that boy a text
You'll forever be his lady, I'm just calling for the net
Thinking that he different, but I him that I need me
He ain't a eater, no I'm throwing up the peace signs
Saying b*tches, hating Caribbean on the decline
I'm getting head, while I'm laying back on recline

[Chorus]
He a sucka for this baddie
I love a rich n*gga buy me sh*t, I call him daddy
pus*y so wet, he can see it through the panties
Put it in his face, said it taste like-taste like candy
He a sucka for this baddie
If he ain't buying sh*t, I can never call him daddy
Pretty mixed b*tch, no hand with the [?]
If his place is hitting, then I might send him the addy
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