BOP IT! lyrics

[Verse 1: TypeOh]
On a world tour
I popped the pus*y 'cause I’m pretty, what I’m known for
I'll probably pull another party once I perform
Pull up on your shawty in a foreign with the chrome force

Yellow face, what about it? Open up doors
Limbo line if you want it, baby, go low for us
I've taken every mushroom in the whole forest
Got me barking at the mailman while on all fours

Get the pus*y, man, you can call me pus*y man
Mess with me, you know I got it like I'm Jigga man
Unforgiving, you know I can't be the bigger man
All these rappers, b*tches feel like I’m Juwanna Mann

By the coattails
Riding on me, hold still
You a sneaky link, you meet mе at the hotel
Got a milli in the casе like Deal or No Deal
If they catch you with it on you, baby, don't tell

[Chorus: JT.ATM]
Stop it, stop it, baby, just stop it
I just wanna see you flick it, twist it like a Bop It
Always shave the pus*y, so I called her Dennis Rodman
Doctor told me that I’m f*cking b*tches way too often
Profit, profit, all about the profit
If it ain’t about the money, b*tch, stop talking
Said I want to buy the biggest Rollie so I copped it
I got like a hundred in the trunk, proceed with caution

[Verse 2: JT.ATM]
Stop it, wait, yuh
I've been kinda late 'cause
I've been getting money, I've been counting up these pay stubs
Roll another blunt, I smoke that sh*t right to the face, yuh
I'm Lightning McQueen, the way I motherf*ckin' race

One hot motherf*cker, what it's tricky to be
Because every single b*tch wanna get jiggy with me
I'm doing laundry all the time 'cause I can't keep my sheets clean
And my rubber budget's higher than a tire factory

Donald Trump's starting five, I'm on his basketball team
I'm shooting bricks to build a wall, but still got racks on my jeans
Short motherf*cker, so I got my eyes at titty height
Put 'em in my face, wait, I think that your bitty might

Then I drive her home, real slow under the city lights
Kitty like that, got me thinking that I need her
Break a side mirror if I see a f*ckin' beamer
Never catch a felony, I'm Mister Misdemeanor
[Verse 3: Thai Thai]
Yeah, I’m run, run, running it
b*tches to keep me company
The way they discussing me
Bet they think that they onto me
I’m a thug up in her bones, I got her singing her harmonies
Better stay up in your lane, go bag a b*tch off eHarmony

All the b*tches think I'm funny, look at Thai with the comedy
Feed these fiends all they prescription like I'm running a pharmacy
All these Opps been on my di*k but they ain’t doing no harm to me
If she tryna fly private, I put the hoe in economy

Said I'm wicked with it
Mississippi b*tch say that she wanna visit
No free admission, head to the show and go and cop a ticket
Leave your man at home, that boy a goofy, we ain’t rocking with him
Watch us put some goons up on his ass, they get to pocket picking

They won’t stay too close
I swear my flow too cold
I know I’m gifted, b*tch, you better admit it, you taking notes
Copped a fitted, now I’m bringing these b*tches back from the show
Yeah, my chain was looking dull, now look at the way it glow

[Chorus: JT.ATM]
Stop it, stop it, baby, just stop it
I just wanna see you flick it, twist it like a Bop It
Always shave the pus*y, so I called her Dennis Rodman
Doctor told me that I’m f*cking b*tches way too often