Netflix lyrics by Fergie - original song full text. Official Netflix lyrics, 2024 version | LyricsMode.com
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Fergie – Netflix lyrics
Yeah, uh-huh

I smoked a blunt for dinner
Another blunt for breakfast
2 Chainz, got 'em staring at my necklace
Let's make a sex tape and put it on Netflix
Let's make a sex tape and put it on Netflix
She got it, I want it, I want it, she got it
I'm dodging paparazzi
My outfit from Versace
Copy, copy, all these n****s just copy (copy)
I just bought me a new watch
And these new n****s just watchin' (tell em)

I know you had the time of your life
I know you had the time of your life
You know I'm gettin' money, ten, twenty, thirty, forty
I'll be countin' this s*** all night

I know you had the time of your life
I know you had the time of your life
See yeah I'm gettin' money, ten, twenty, thirty, forty
I'll be countin' this s*** all night

When I die, bury me inside the liquor store
'Cause when I die, Fergie still gon' be gettin' dough (ohh)
You do what you can, I do what you can't
You smoke that Bobby B-B-Brown, we on that Shabba Ranks
I got it, you want it, you want it, I got it
My girls go shopping, that ain't a mall, that's my closet
So copy (copy), copy, all these b****es just copy
Honor student wit' double Ds
That ain't the bra, that's my ta-tas

I know you had the time of your life
I know you had the time of your life
You know I'm gettin' money, ten, twenty, thirty, forty
I'll be countin' this s*** all night

I know you had the time of your life
I know you had the time of your life
See yeah I'm gettin' money, ten, twenty, thirty, forty
I'll be countin' this s*** all night

Yeah
Yeah
I'm gettin' to the monies, with an apostrophe
F***ed her on a pile of clothes now she a closet freak
Yeah I bear arms, I got something up my sleeve (BOW)
And when she wit' me, she don't wanna leave
She just wanna freak (she do), she don't wanna sleep
Put it in her mouth (mouth) now she don't wanna speak (Tru)
Yeah I'm at the club, I got strippers at my table
I call doin' the 69 a favor for a favor
From the cradle to the grave (uh)
Shoot a n**** from his ankle to his waist
You can tell that I'm paid
'Cause I'm high-cla**
F***ed a b**** in her eyelashes
We in a jet, who gon' fly past us?
Tint all on my eyegla**es, I don't see ya hater (yeah)
And I don't get dropped, b**** I drop the label
Goddamn!
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