1-800-SMD Song Lyrics
Description:- 1-800-SMD Lyrics Shotgun Willy are Provided in this article. This is a new song which is sang by famous Singer Shotgun Willy. This song is from Viva La Kid album. This Song will release on 6 August 2021.
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Song:– 1-800-SMD
Singer:– Shotgun Willy
Album:– Viva La Kid
Producer:– Peter Kuli
Written:– Shotgun Willy
1-800-SMD Lyrics Shotgun Willy
[Intro]
I’m a rockstar tryna fuck a pornstar
And I keep a blade, like Sword Art Online
How’d you get a sports car? “I don’t know, it’s not mine”
Any more questions? Please, hit my hotline
[Chorus]
At 1-800 suck a motherfuckin’ dick
Please, call me up, please, call me up
I’m young McLovin, got a super bad bitch
She want me, yeah, she want me, yeah
‘Cause I don’t pick up, leave a voicemail
Rooftop chillin’ at the hotel
Whole game on my back like Odel
Can’t keep up, tell ’em, “Oh, well”
[Verse 1]
Now I’m fuckin’ bitches and money and that’s it
You don’t like the shit that I’m makin’, then suck dick
Carti man, Rick, bunch of mothеrfuckers on the ride up on my wavе
Out the way ‘fore I slap a pussy boy like Brad Pitt, shit
Momma raised a boy to be a pimp, pimp
Fur coat vibin’ at the Ritz, Ritz
Good role model for the kids, kids
Willy went and made another hit
Last date that I had was a court date
I’m hard, you soft like sorbet
Not parfait, no foreplay
You be lookin’ sweet like a strawberry shortcake
Who you think is next up? I’m better
I got drank in my cup, like Bender
That boy said that I suck, whatever
I got rich and switched up, Bruce Jenner
[Chorus]
At 1-800 suck a motherfuckin’ dick
Please, call me up, please, call me up
I’m young McLovin, got a super bad bitch
She want me, yeah, she want me, yeah
‘Cause I don’t pick up, leave a voicemail
Rooftop chillin’ at the hotel
Whole game on my back like Odel
Can’t keep up, tell ’em, “Oh, well”
[Verse 2]
I don’t like you, you, you
Hear the phone ring, ring, ring
Everything new, new, new
Lookin’ like a king, king, king
Money stack tall, tall, tall
I’m talkin’ Yao Ming, Ming, Ming
Fuck it, we ball, ball, ball
I told that boy swing, swing, swing
I’m soundin’ like hey, batter, batter, hey, batter, batter
Then I watch your brain splatter, splatter, brain splatter, splatter
On my way up like a ladder, no chitter-chatter
I don’t give a fuck, it don’t matter ‘less it make my pockets fatter
You could hear the pitter-patter tappin’, I’m at your door
And I’m attached with a piece of chrome, I’m just so happy to know it
That you were lackin’ while my GPS was trackin’ your home
And I sent it back and if you have it, tell him call at my phone
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