Lyrics

Oh, my God Don't kick her Eisha (I feel so bad), no (Why did you do that?) (Why you do her like that? That is terrible) Eisha no, Eisha no (You beat that girl up like that) Eisha no (That's ed up Eisha, that's ed up Eisha) Nyema,, you Scary Look at the, look at the way that I walk I'm shoppin' at Fendi, you shoppin' at Ross You cannot with me, you es is soft I'm ridin' with shooters that's really throwed off, ooh You do not wanna with me They call me, "Lil' Eisha" and I'm with the I heard that you mentionin' Eisha In person, Nyema get popped in yo', Nyema, you is a lame (A lame) Poppin' that for the fame (The fame) Remember at the church I whooped you Hush up, be quiet, you know I'm with the gang You don't wanna see me, period You know I'ma step, you know I'ma bang Now Gutta, eat this up Hold up, wait, it ain't a thing All this sauce When I walk through you salute, I'm the boss Young Gutta from the D, but I moved to the South Lookin' for Nyema, gettin' flipped in the house All these diamonds, got a nigga feelin' rich Went in Eisha room, Ny was suckin' on a Everybody know my name, call me Gutta with the One false move, you get hit with the stick I don't got time for no hatin' Mad 'cause we livin' great and You always on our page, makin' sure you up to date with You really on some fake a opp, we stackin' chicken (We stakin' chicken) hot sauce, we like motherin' ketchup on our chicken Period (Ah)
Writer(s): Aiyeisha S Hickson Lyrics powered by www.musixmatch.com
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