Flavas Lyrics

Step in my closet CC on my shirts

Autopilot the v in the skirt

Live life in private

I'm somewhere in Turks

With a lil shawty

Ain't came from the earth

Say she a player

She green every shot

Whole lotta haters

I count up some guap

Whole lotta flavors

Don't know what he got

Whole lotta flavors

Whole lotta flavors

Whole lotta flavors

Whole lotta flavors

He gotta whole lotta flavors Whole lotta flavors

Count up a whole lotta paper

Got me a whole lot of flavors

I got a whole lotta flavors

Each everyone got a tote bag

They keep it quiet they don't ask Butterfly whip where the doors at I keep on throwing the cash to flirt

I bought 100 new bags to work Hop in the V and I smash the skirt don't need a plea ima dash it first

Yeah got lotta flavors

She want some Louie V

She ain't basic

She want that Body By Raven Tracy

She want that new Chanel ona Daily

Keep a money bag

You keep it Ari baby

And I left out the city

I'm sorry baby

If you need something

Different than call me baby

And I play the position

You want it baby yeah

Step in my closet

CC on my shirts

Go autopilot the V in the skirt

Live life in private

I'm somewhere in Turks

With a lil shawty

Ain't came from the earth

Say she a player

She green every shot

Whole lotta haters

I count up some guap

Whole lotta flavors

Don't know what he got

Whole lotta flavors

Whole lotta flavors

Whole lotta flavors

Whole lotta flavors

He gotta whole lotta flavors Whole lotta flavors

Count up a whole lotta paper

Got me a whole lot of flavors

Parking lot party in a rafe

Only want designer where I stay Only keep the money in the safe Gotta lotta hundreds where I lay Gotta keep lil shawty in her place Tell her when to leave

And when to stay

Told me she ain't never left state

Now she got some friends in TSA

Yeah you want the Birkin

than grab one

They know I stay with a bad one These niggas wishing they had one

Been popping up in a fast one Yeah she doing too much

And I dead it

Hop in the v and I shred it

They ain't tryna give me no credit Worry about me need to look at Ya credit yeah

Step in my closet CC on my shirts

Go autopilot the V in the skirt

Live life in private

I'm somewhere in Turks

With a lil shawty

Ain't came from the earth

Say she a player

She green every shot

Whole lotta haters

I count up some guap

Whole lotta flavors

Don't know what he got

Whole lotta flavors

Whole lotta flavors

Whole lotta flavors

Whole lotta flavors

He gotta whole lotta flavors Whole lotta flavors

Count up a whole lotta paper

Got me a whole lot of flavors