Cuban On Damedot
On this page, discover the full lyrics of the song "Cuban On" by Damedot. Lyrxo.com offers the most comprehensive and accurate lyrics, helping you connect with the music you love on a deeper level. Ideal for dedicated fans and anyone who appreciates quality music.
[Intro]
Yeah
Ayy (Are you in the mafia?)
[Verse 1]
I'm a good nigga but my bitch bad
Like she 'bout to spend the night, got a big bag
She got a thing for rich niggas in the Hellcat
She preferrin' niggas quiet with a lot of racks
Two bands on the shoes, these Ricks got me in a move
And I'm off the shroom, the freshest nigga in the room
She ain't got no ass but she pretty so I said, "It's cool"
I got real demons in the cut, I'll cut 'em loose
Lil' bitch tryna play close, had to cut her loose
Gang trip down in Miami, got a hundred coupes
Some of these hoes get around the money and don't know what to do
If she ain't get that BBL, she'll be really through
Your nigga ain't nothin' like me, go 'head, tell the truth
Bitch, I banged out racks, who the fuck is you?
Nigga, you can go from rags to riches, I'm the livin' proof
I could fit your whole house in my livin' room
I be wearin' tennis chains but I ain't playin' tennis
She only in her twenties but her hair fifty inches
It's so little, you can't tell I got a AR pistol
If you dissin' on the 'net, I'ma come and get you
Yeah
Ayy (Are you in the mafia?)
[Verse 1]
I'm a good nigga but my bitch bad
Like she 'bout to spend the night, got a big bag
She got a thing for rich niggas in the Hellcat
She preferrin' niggas quiet with a lot of racks
Two bands on the shoes, these Ricks got me in a move
And I'm off the shroom, the freshest nigga in the room
She ain't got no ass but she pretty so I said, "It's cool"
I got real demons in the cut, I'll cut 'em loose
Lil' bitch tryna play close, had to cut her loose
Gang trip down in Miami, got a hundred coupes
Some of these hoes get around the money and don't know what to do
If she ain't get that BBL, she'll be really through
Your nigga ain't nothin' like me, go 'head, tell the truth
Bitch, I banged out racks, who the fuck is you?
Nigga, you can go from rags to riches, I'm the livin' proof
I could fit your whole house in my livin' room
I be wearin' tennis chains but I ain't playin' tennis
She only in her twenties but her hair fifty inches
It's so little, you can't tell I got a AR pistol
If you dissin' on the 'net, I'ma come and get you
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