Fuck Yo Couch Lyrics & Chords By Bailey

Fuck yo couch, nigga
Yeah fuck yo couch nigga
Let me tell you about this shit
If a motherfucker spill his motherfucking drink on you in the club while you fresh, he fucking up yo couch man
If a bitch loud as hell in yo ear while you trying to get yo smoke on and you asleep, she fucking up yo couch man
If the police come around this motherfucker messing up ya paper, they fucking up yo couch
I'm hella in the spot just flossing bitch
Stepping on shoes, disrespecting, and tossing shit
When I'm outside, nigga, I'mma pee on ya whip
Fuck the bartender, nah, I ain't leaving a tip,
And I'mma let a broad know that if her ass is whack
Straight mean mugging niggas til they mad at that
Perhaps I go around this motherfucker with a cup of Moët, spitting on them hoes' necks
Flipping over tables, throwing chairs at the DJ, shoving niggas, fuck what security say
Putting holes in the speakers by the velvet rope, in the non-smoking area, is hella smoke
Just stomping, nigga like I own this place, the promoter mad, I can see it on his face
If a nigga do a lot I'mma punch him in his mouth
I don't gotta be in ya house to fuck up yo couch, yeah bitch
You gotta twist wit it, do like this wit it
Move yo hips side to side, put yo fist wit it
Fuck yo couch nigga, fuck yo couch nigga, fuck yo couch nigga, fuck yo couch nigga
You gotta twist wit it, do like this wit it
Move yo hips side to side, put yo fist wit it
Fuck yo couch nigga, fuck yo couch nigga, fuck yo couch nigga, fuck yo couch nigga
Yeah man, you better fix grandma's plastic
I'm coming to yo hood and i got bad habits
I'mma toss rotten eggs til they smell like bums
Hit the hood liquor store, sell my drugs
Do fishtails and donuts, fuck yo couch
Knocking this right here, til the amps blow out
I don't really care about nothing, I'm stuntin'
Posted on the block and the engine ain't runnin'
Slide out, rob a nigga hide out, leave the trash
Like the residue, dope scale, seeds, and bags
Hit yo hood everyday you'll be thinking how can he
Roll through the hood and make it hot as Miami
Holla at ya main bitch getting the puss
Cause she know when you a square, that's clearly a wuss
Only give the type of Gs West Philly a cook
I could lie about how I feel, but its really the hook
See, I'll be all up in people halls, dumping ashes laughin'
Spitting, wiping snot, fuck using a napkin
Running in the fitting room, while hoes undress
They leaving used condoms on yo man's front steps
Taking niggas bitches from right under they armpit
She used to lead the choir, now she stripping on market
If its not ya girl's couch, then I'm fucking up some other hoes
In the laundry mat, throwing bleach on ya color clothes
Hoes know I'm lil' daddy wit clout
It pays off for checking in the cracks of the couch
I'm in the town giving all the wrong directions
If they upset, tell 'em what the song suggest and