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Jake Paul Fresh Outta London lyrics 2020

August 7, 2020

Jake Paul Fresh Outta London lyrics

I don't need new friends, I don't like fake friends

Only here to make M's, call when the check in

I don't like partial, need the whole backend

Fresh outta London, she still got an accent

The crib like a palace, I took her to 'Basas

If he want a feature, then we gotta tax him

I got me a bad bitch, the cover of Maxim

The comments is shook up, they throwin' a tantrum, yeah

The wrist is flooded

No competition, can't listen, ain't talkin' 'bout shit

I'm lit, they know it

They wanna hate on the music, but I'm makin' hits

These hundreds, I throw 'em

I need like eighty a show, that's some minimum shit

I leave the house and I'm wearin' some shit you can't get

And I swear this shit cost like a brick

I've been runnin' up M's all week, I'm a vet

Quick trip for the bag, fell asleep on a jet

On a different time, this an Audemars Piguet

See eight bad bitches like the brand new 'Vette

We gon' get 'em all, why the fuck I would I stress?

Think I need rehab, I'm addicted to a check

And she gon' say it's love, but she know I want the sex

Bitch, don't you dare leave a hickey on my neck

'Cause the Cullinan massage my back, I'm stressed

Stars in the roof get the bitch undressed

With an ass like that, I forget my ex

Racks like this meant that God, I'm blessed

I been on top, I should beat my chest

Tell you that she loyal, we gon' put her to the test

Wanna lose your bitch? Well, then be my guest

'Cause I been real cold in this Moncler vest

I don't need new friends, I don't like fake friends

Only here to make M's, call when the check in

I don't like partial, need the whole backend

Fresh outta London, she still got an accent

The crib like a palace, I took her to 'Basas

If he want a feature, then we gotta tax him

I got me a bad bitch, the cover of Maxim

The comments is shook up, they throwin' a tantrum, yeah

The wrist is flooded

No competition, can't listen, ain't talkin' 'bout shit

I'm lit, they know it

They wanna hate on the music, but I'm makin' hits

These hundreds, I throw 'em

I need like eighty a show, that's some minimum shit

I leave the house and I'm wearin' some shit you can't get

And I swear this shit cost like a brick

Jake Paul Fresh Outta London lyrics

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