Tory Lanez – Staccato Lyrics

Staccato Lyrics by Tory Lanez

F–kin’ these b!tches, they came out of Milano
She want me to come, but ain’t got all the time, no
The other day I was broke, came back in designer
Lil’ mama left me alone, came back and the time’s up
Ayy, singin’ to the bank, my money staccato
I ain’t on no bullsh-t, this ain’t no Chicago
I went from jettin’ from stores, to jet in the sky though
My niqqa, the world yours, whatever’s inside though

Two twenties on my head, just made it to six-speed
Used to have love for you bit-hes, now I’m like, “B!tch, please”
Now and then I gotta say it like my niqqa Weeknd
F–k needin’ a bit-h, I’m what a b-tch need
Two hunnid thirty thousand on the Bentley
So even when it’s dirty, know my sh!t clean
Got a thick bih’, her name’s Christina
Out Miami with the whip, hop out of Prestige, yeah
Ayy, shawty know I been on some boss sh-t, ayy
She f–kin’ with me ’cause I’m a vibe, my niqqa
I spent twenty-five all on my side b-tch
And if I get caught, I’ma deny it
I’ma deny it, I’m a f–kin’ rider
Got a bad b-tch for the niqqa, pu$$y fire
She strip down like Malia or Maya
And I been on the side tryna buy her some time off
Ayy, I’m hotter than Folgers
Money so thick, can’t fold it, I told you
Came back, put my baby mama in a Rover
Card got no limit, b-tch, I’m a soldier, ugh

F–kin’ these b-tches, they came out of Milano
She want me to come, but ain’t got all the time, no
The other day I was broke, came back in designer
Lil’ mama left me alone, came back and the time’s up
Ayy, singin’ to the bank, my money staccato
I ain’t on no bullsh-t, this ain’t no Chicago
I went from jettin’ from stores, to jet in the sky though
My niqqa, the world yours, whatever’s inside though

Honey, am I wrong for thinkin’ every woman wanna f–k me?
And if she don’t, she probably get it wet, it must be
None of my biddies put no niqqas above me
I done pulled up Southside, all my b-tches side-side of me
Couldn’t be a fake niqqa if I tried to be
Ayy, Louis Vuitton shorts, Dior, four-course
Let a goofy niqqa f–k and we can’t f–k no more
I’m a big money niqqa on a jet
Girl, give me that pu$$y, let me make it wet for ya
I told you can get the world, baby, if you rep the set
She was out before the check
Alphabet, I’m a G, f–k her ex, no sweat
To the left, to the left, to the left
Everything you f–kin’ own is in a box to the left
Ayy, I’m on the yachty, I got them thots to the left
She a bop, I’ma flex, got rocks for my neck, yeah

F–kin’ these B!tches, they came out of Milano
She want me to come, but ain’t got all the time, no
The other day I was broke, came back in designer
Lil’ mama left me alone, came back and the time’s up
Ayy, singin’ to the bank, my money staccato
I ain’t on no bullsh-t, this ain’t no Chicago
I went from jettin’ from stores, to jet in the sky though
My niqqa, the world yours, whatever’s inside though