Hostess Songtext

You can pop bottles if you want
Giving off charm, hanging bitches from your arm
So you think you've got style but you don't
You're not coming in, even with your Gucci coat
I'm looking at the ice on your throat
Talking so big, boy, I hope you don't choke
Yeah, you've got a little something on your nose
You ain't coming in it's a broke-free zone

Yeah, I know you're leasing your Lambo'
Arms so jacked like you're Rambo
Yeah, I know you've never seen a bankroll
(Uh, uh)
Yeah, I know you're leasing your iPhone, yeah
Play the bad boy but you're Santo, yeah
Really think you're Rocky but you're Fat Joe
Scaramooosh, do the Mitch fantago

I'm your motherfucking hostess
Hot Benz, all tens, got the mostest Raise a motherfucking flute for the toast, yeah
Locked in, tell your friends where we posted

I'm your motherfucking hostess
Hot Benz, all tens, got the mostest
Raise a motherfucking flute for the toast, yeah
Locked in, tell your friends where we posted

Gold finish
Gold trimmings
Gold simmons
What you gonna do with these?
Double digits
Six figures
Ice earrings
What you gonna do with these?
See me in my story in my villa
I be by the cupboard with the liquor
Queen of the desert, like Pracilla
No pre-game, no mixer

Did ya momma tell you all the do's and don'ts?
It's a girls night, should've stayed at home
And I could really do without your cheap cologne
You could empty out a room with your pheromones
Did ya momma tell you all the do's and don'ts?
You can't even touch me in my Saint Laurent
Tryna catch a bag, but ya can't get stoned
Brag about your boys, but you're all alone

I'm your motherfucking hostess
Hot Benz, all tens, got the mostest
Raise a motherfucking flute for the toast, yeah
Locked in, tell your friends where we posted

I'm your motherfucking hostess
Hot Benz, all tens, got the mostest
Raise a motherfucking flute for the toast, yeah
Locked in, tell your friends where we posted