Copy ian (Ft. Legaspy)
On this page, discover the full lyrics of the song "Copy" by ian (Ft. Legaspy). 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.
[Chorus: ian]
Got closer to my London bitch, I call her Millie Bob'
Broke boy shooter take out a hundred hits, not one of 'em hit yo' body
Right now I'm outside, running shit, that pussy-ass boy won't copy
We heard yo' boyfriend talkin' [?] my man just said he got him
We turn yo' block to a bloody mess, got everybody running
I turn my cup to bloody red, I cannot see the sun
Big [?] on my fuckin' head, I cannot see my sons
You play about my fuckin' bread, one call, I get it done
[Verse 1: ian]
We box 'em up
I ain't put no gloves on, I really can't give no fucks
Right now I'm out the ozone, this bitch shake her butt
I told her, "Come here and throw some," you better not stop at that light
We turn yo' wig to scraps, big Glock, this not no fight
Oh, you didn't comе to scrap? No ho been on my mind
I'm thinkin' 'bout my racks, big Perky got me flyin'
Therе ain't no comin' back, just told her I'm not comin' back
[Chorus: ian]
Got closer to my London bitch, I call her Millie Bob'
Broke boy shooter take out a hundred hits, not one of 'em hit yo' body
Right now I'm outside, running shit, that pussy-ass boy won't copy
We heard yo' boyfriend talkin' [?] my man just said he got him
We turn yo' block to a bloody mess, got everybody running
I turn my cup to bloody red, I cannot see the sun
Big [?] on my fuckin' head, I cannot see my sons
You play about my fuckin' bread, one call, I get it done
Got closer to my London bitch, I call her Millie Bob'
Broke boy shooter take out a hundred hits, not one of 'em hit yo' body
Right now I'm outside, running shit, that pussy-ass boy won't copy
We heard yo' boyfriend talkin' [?] my man just said he got him
We turn yo' block to a bloody mess, got everybody running
I turn my cup to bloody red, I cannot see the sun
Big [?] on my fuckin' head, I cannot see my sons
You play about my fuckin' bread, one call, I get it done
[Verse 1: ian]
We box 'em up
I ain't put no gloves on, I really can't give no fucks
Right now I'm out the ozone, this bitch shake her butt
I told her, "Come here and throw some," you better not stop at that light
We turn yo' wig to scraps, big Glock, this not no fight
Oh, you didn't comе to scrap? No ho been on my mind
I'm thinkin' 'bout my racks, big Perky got me flyin'
Therе ain't no comin' back, just told her I'm not comin' back
[Chorus: ian]
Got closer to my London bitch, I call her Millie Bob'
Broke boy shooter take out a hundred hits, not one of 'em hit yo' body
Right now I'm outside, running shit, that pussy-ass boy won't copy
We heard yo' boyfriend talkin' [?] my man just said he got him
We turn yo' block to a bloody mess, got everybody running
I turn my cup to bloody red, I cannot see the sun
Big [?] on my fuckin' head, I cannot see my sons
You play about my fuckin' bread, one call, I get it done
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