Letra de Bachelor - Turbo

(Feat. Gunna)

Really (Ah), do you ever think about me?

Really, if you're honest with me

I'd like to say it's two-way (Ah)

Do you ever think about me?

Really, if you're honest with me

I'd like to say it's two-way

(-Makers)

Who else you thinkin' 'bout?

I can't be callin' your phone every day

Fuck is you thinkin' 'bout?

This shit ain't loyal, then it's gonna spoil your heart

Like the trash, you can take it out

Quit makin' up shit to complain about

She lay on the couch, I'm all in her crotch

We fuck, then, we break up

We fuck, then, we make up

We fuck, then, we break up and make up

We fucked in Jamaica

We fucked at Bojangle

We fucked in the back of Bottega

I ordered the check, up I'm over the radar

Now you chasing that pussy, not paper

I slow it all down with the maple

You know I got too many flavors

And she fell in love with her neighbor

If I hit it once, then I hit it again

Face and her body a ten

Hair blowin' in the wind

Stoppin' in town and I beat that shit down

And I'm back on the road again

She come on the low with her friends

She know I got hoes like I'm Prince

They print it, I get it, I count every penny

You know I got plenty of Benji's

Fuck in that new condominium

We on the balcony, we looking over the city

She know she gotta come treat the kid just like a bachelor

We never showin' no pity

You got a business then I gotta be the ambassador

We got it started in Philly

Who else you thinkin' 'bout?

I can't be callin' your phone every day

Fuck is you thinkin' 'bout?

This shit ain't loyal, then it's gonna spoil your heart

Like the trash, you can take it out

Quit makin' up shit to complain about

She lay on the couch, I'm all in her crotch

We fuck, then, we break up

We fuck, then, we make up

We fuck, then, we break up and make up

We fucked in Jamaica

We fucked at Bojangle

We fucked in the back of Bottega

I ordered the check, up I'm over the radar

You chasing that pussy, not paper

I slow it all down with the maple

You know I got too many flavors

Young Gunna got too many flavors, they all sittin' pretty with white on they toes

High end designer the clothes

Ridin' back of the Rolls (Back of the Rolls)

That my lil' yat, I love fuckin' her face (Yeah)

When it come to that throat, she GOAT (She GOAT)

She swallowin' all of it, she don't choke (Don't choke)

I'm pullin' up on her for sure (For sure)

I peep that she want it, ain't give you no warnin'

We always gon' fuck if she horny

Had a few shots and I took her right back to the spot

And I gave her the dick 'til the mornin' (Dick 'til the mornin')

She like a shirt, I been flippin' her inside and out, our sex'll never get borin' (Get borin')

She said she think about me every time I leave out

She need to keep on recordin'

Who else you thinkin' 'bout?

I can't be callin' your phone every day

Fuck is you thinkin' 'bout?

This shit ain't loyal, then it's gonna spoil your heart

Like the trash, you can take it out

Quit makin' up shit to complain about

She lay on the couch, I'm all in her crotch

We fuck, then, we break up

We fuck, then, we make up

We fuck, then, we break up and make up

We fucked in Jamaica

We fucked at Bojangle

We fucked in the back of Bottega

I ordered the check, up I'm over the radar

You chasing that pussy, not paper

I slow it all down with the maple

You know I got too many flavors

(Run that back Turbo)

Really (Ah), do you ever think about me?

Really, if you're honest with me

I'd like to say it's two-way

(Ah) Do you ever think about me?

Really, if you're honest with me

I'd like to say it's two-way

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