Curve

Sippin' on Prosecco
At a gallery (ay)
Chillin' with my homies
Tryna have a ki (ay)
Brushin' off a nigga
Tryna get with me (ay)
Blocking all his shots
Mama named me Luke Cage
Boy the way you moving
You would think you were an athlete
Hopping over hurdles like
We’re running in a track meet
When I catch your eye
I gotta look the other way
Homie got a thirst that you
Can spot a mile away
I swing my hips when
Migos drops
Drink champagne that
Rico pops
You pull up on me
Like we gone chop
Screaming in my ear
Till the music stops
I’m real turned off
I’m triggered
I don’t wanna fuck with you
My nigga
Wish that I could dip from
Your ass quicka
Fore you say some shit
That makes me sika
Bye