Marge Simpson

Elizabeth Harris

Ooh, ooh, yeah, yeah
Oh, oh-oh, baby
Oh, no-no, no, no-no, no-no
Ooh, ooh, yeah, yeah
Ooh, ooh, ooh-ooh, baby
Oh, no-no, no, no-no

Big pimpin'
Big, big pimpin'
Big pimpin'
Walk up in the back, limpin' (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Big pimpin'
Big, big pimpin' (ohh)
Money stacked up so tall
Look like the hair on Marge Simpson (mmm)

Marge Simpson, Ma-Ma, Marge Simpson (on God)
Marge Simpson, you can call me Marge Simpson (yeah, yeah)
Big pimpin', get the money then dip
Money stacked up so tall
Look like the hair on Marge Simpson

Man, why you keep textin' my phone? Leave me alone
Boy, I do not want your dick
I see that nigga, he thirsty as fuck, I ain't givin' him shit
Better swallow his spit
All that lurkin' on my motherfuckin' page
'Til it's, "Oops, I ain't mean to like that pic"
Took him to Victoria Secrets, and bought him some bras
Since he love to act like a bitch
I got a type, and it ain't you
I like them niggas who spendin' that cash
I like them fat Homer Simpson-ass niggas
That feed me to fatten this ass
Bitch, I'm expensive, don't bring me nothin' on the floor
I want everything locked in a glass
Then we fuckin' fast, take him to the back of the store
Then he bustin' a hole in my mask
Now give me your money, dummy
I don't wanna hear what you cannot afford
We back in his car, he complaining how I spent all his money
I said, "King, pass me the aux cord"
I don't wanna hear that shit, be near that shit
What the fuck do you niggas be thinkin'?
Gotta wear a sleep mask, every time I fuck him,
So I won't see him cum quicker than I be blinkin' (mmm)

Big pimpin'
Big, big pimpin'
Big pimpin'
Walk up in the back, limpin'
Big pimpin'
Big, big pimpin'
Money stacked up so tall
Look like the hair on Marge Simpson (mmm)

Marge Simpson, Ma-Ma, Marge Simpson (on God)
Marge Simpson, you can call me Marge Simpson (yeah, yeah)
Big pimpin', get the money then dip
Money stacked up so tall
Look like the hair on Marge Simpson

I don't want your man, darling
Even though I could take him so damn quick
I done sat up on his sack five times
After he done bought me the whole damn Saks Fifth
Feeling like Taylor when I get this money 'cause I spend it so, so swift
'Cause I only check for niggas with big bags, like an airport trip
You know my aesthetic, we could do credit, debit
Make sure the receipt get shredded
'Cause he got a girl at home, and if she come for me
Somebody come for her, the paramedics
Yeah, I said it, text it, Dej Loaf
Nigga better know to come full breaded (that money)
Put a stack of money on the bottom of my sneaker
That's how a real bitch walk up in wedges
And he could die today, day or tomorrow, I won't even give no fuck
I just hope nobody throw him a funeral, 'cause I could use those bucks
I'ma make him turn into his grave, I ain't givin' no apologies
If anything, when I buy the Prada with his cards
That motherfucker better be proud of me

Ooh, ooh, yeah, yeah
That motherfucker better be proud of me
Oh, oh-oh, baby
Oh, no-no, no, no-no, no-no
Ooh, ooh, yeah, yeah
Ooh, ooh, ooh-ooh, baby
Oh, no-no, no, no-no, no-no
Motherfucker better be proud of me

Curiosités sur la chanson Marge Simpson de CupcakKe

Qui a composé la chanson “Marge Simpson” de CupcakKe?
La chanson “Marge Simpson” de CupcakKe a été composée par Elizabeth Harris.

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