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      Blastoff

      Blastoff

      Internet Money

      Album: B4 The Storm

      Escuchar lo mejor de la musica de Internet Money

      Internet Money - Blastoff Música y Letra

      [Intro: Trippie Redd]
      Internet Money, bitch
      Hahahaha, Nick, you're stupid
      
      [Chorus: Trippie Redd]
      Baby, come and have a blast with me
      Do everything I say like your majesty
      Fuck with the gang and it be a tragedy
      Fuck with my shooters, they in the back with me
      
      [Post-Chorus: Trippie Redd]
      Fuck with me baby, come get this bag with me
      Been alone for a minute, that shit been dragging me
      Craving your love, it's heart-attacking me
      Tryna get in that pussy, baby, that mac and cheese
      
      [Verse 1: Trippie Redd]
      I cannot show these bitches no sympathy
      Or these niggas, they simps and they hella bitch to me
      I was just fortunate, got the remedy
      Fuck that bitch and then dip, I got them chips to receive, yeah
      
      [Chorus: Trippie Redd & Juice WRLD]
      Baby, come and have a blast with me
      Do everything I say like your majesty
      Fuck with the gang and it be a tragedy
      Fuck with my shooters, they in the back with me (Uh)
      
      
      [Verse 2: Juice WRLD]
      You picked that knife up and you stabbin' me
      Wish it was a paper cut, but it's a gash, I bleed out
      And the way you keep harassin' me
      It's a shame this the way that it has to be, oh
      Uh, yeah, time is of the essence
      You know damn well you bring hell, I should call a reverend
      Devil horns on a angel, still haven't learned my lesson (Uh)
      We're a mess and our life's a wreck (Hey)
      Toxic, toxic, toxic
      The most beautiful things grow old and start rottin'
      I should've turned away when I found out you were demonic
      Let's be honest, you're the devil's daughter
      Say hey to your father, uh, he owe me twenty dollars
      We gon' run through hell with like twenty-hundred choppers
      We gon' give 'em hell and I put that on my mama
      Me and Trippie Redd boolin' back in the Bahamas
      
      [Chorus: Trippie Redd]
      Baby, come and have a blast with me
      Do everything I say like your majesty
      Fuck with the gang and it be a tragedy
      Fuck with my shooters, they in the back with me
      
      [Post-Chorus: Trippie Redd]
      Fuck with me baby, come get this bag with me
      Been alone for a minute, that shit been dragging me
      Craving your love, it's heart-attacking me
      Tryna get in that pussy, baby, that mac and cheese
      
      
      [Outro: Juice WRLD]
      Gang, gang, gang
      Probably fuckin' your mama
      Three K on my wrist like André
      Servin' like entrée
      Ha, huh, you dig? You dig? You dig?

      Internet Money - Blastoff Música y Letra

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