I just tweaked the f*** out with this one... like the song says, It's Whateva.
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Story behind the song
Remy Martin - "Monster"
Lyrics
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The Beat Kinda Crazy... Gon Head Wild Out
The Beat Kinda Crazy... Gon Head Wild Out
The Beat Kinda Crazy... Gon Head Wild Out
The Beat Kinda Crazy... Gon Head Wild Out
You Talkin Dat Shit... Well It's Whatever
Oops That's Ya Bitch... Well It's Whatever
Where The Hell Is Ya Clique?... Cuz It's Whatever
I'm Gettin' Lit & Ripped... So It's Whatever
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I'm blunted wit a hunned bills, all big faces / White fitted, white ones, wit the thick laces
My wrist kinda racist, cuz all you see is white stones / If the spot aint poppin', ya'll ain't playin' the right songs
Party till the night's gone, shortie in a white thong / Her man at home, my dick is here, quite long
She know my minds on, fuckin' then rollin' out / I heard she good at dick-suckin' but she holdin' out
I'm rollin' bout at least a hunnerd of these white owls / Close ya mouth, I just nutted on this white towel
Bust her right down, then send her back to the bar / Turn my back to the broad, I'll be back here tomorrow
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Fill my fuckin' cup up, just to spill it on a bird / You mad? Okay ya guts gon' be spillin on the curb
You gettin' on my nerves, gon over there / I'm mixin' up my words, cuz I'm gone over here
You know that I hear everythang said about me / So I don't really care if you lame nigga's doubt me
Dang where ya mouth be? Slurpin' on ya men hah? / BANG BANG, thangs get to squirtin' at ya men hah
Man Down Man Down, send for the medics / Fuck playin' games now, which nigga said it?
I'ma get a full confession, if I gots to pull the Wesson / My arms is lethal weapons, either way you learn ya lesson
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Where the ho's at, mayne the bar finna close / Hop in my car and take off all ya clothes
Pardon the smoke, I got a chronic condition / Oh you gonna choke, like I'm gonna listen
Chicken-heads cluck fast, quick to split a stuffed sack / Better have ya bus pass, if I ain't got enough gas
Dumb-ass, I'm jus playin' wit cha girl / So I'ma keep sayin' somethin' till I'm layin' in ya girl
Today you gettin' pearls, tomorrow it's the boot / Ya shit ain't in my crib, unless I borrowed it from you
See I don't gotta do shit, Source talk too slick / Stay scoopin' new chicks, of course I gotta few flicks
And they stay too sick, everytime I play em / The ladies love me, but you say damn I really hate em
And they tryna fade em, but the color won't go / When them guns start sprayin', you muh-fucker's won't show
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