Private Landing Lyrics
[Chorus: Don Toliver]
I'm feelin' stuck (Feelin' stuck)
I'm off a bean (Yeah), like, what the f*ck? (What the f*ck?)
I'm in the tree (Tree), she holler up (Holler up)
What you need? (What you need?) Got it up (Ooh-ooh)
[Verse 1: Don Toliver]
I don't know why these hoes can't stand me
I guess I'm too demanding
Wanna hit the double Coke, the candy (Candy)
I'm so high, no landing (Landing)
Keepin' that Glock, grip steady (Steady)
Rockin' this shit, confetti (Confetti)
They all let it go on the telly (Telly)
They all wanna rub my belly
I got my dawgs out, I'm poppin' at the Ritz (At the—)
I got 'em comin' in, shit look like a blitz (Look like a—)
She wanna check me up, she wanna check my fit (Check my—)
I pull up, the Maybach jumpin', shorty bеtter check my hits
I don't know why thesе hoes can't stand me
I guess I'm too demanding
Private landing, I guess I keep my candy
She a super soaker when the beaches sandy
I got her in the O, call, better call me Randy
[Verse 2: Future & Don Toliver]
Diamonds and Margiela, AP canary yellow
Yeah, she deserve a Patek, 'cause she one of the members (For sure)
https://www.elyricsworld.com/private_landing_lyrics_don_toliver.html
When it come, it's adorable, money not a problem (Hmm)
Turned me to a killer, I just smashed a model (Yeah)
Tiffany come blue, her p*ssy good and pink (Pink)
Chicago in the wintertime, I'm orderin' minks (The mink)
Sellin' out arenas, I just murked the streets (The streets)
Coppin' a brand new castle in the Middle East (Woo, yeah)
My bitch sit Indian style when we sit down and eat (Woo)
I could do this shit, one take, but my style ain't free (Woo, Pluto)
I don't take hoes on no date, 'less they got pretty feet (I swear)
Quarter million on her head, quarter million on her head (Ah, yeah)
She mop it down the best, I can't feel my leg (My leg, I swear)
I done sniped off your ho' for a crumb of bread (Ho)
Got racks goin' out the roof, they bustin' through the ceilin' (Racks)
(adsbygoogle = window.adsbygoogle || []).push({});
