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Bree Runway - Little Nokia - Remix / Bonus Track Lyrics



Bree Runway - Little Nokia - Remix / Bonus Track Lyrics
Official




[ Featuring Rico Nasty ]

I don't like, I don't like, I don't like
Little Nokias, yeah, yeah, yeah, I don't, I don't
Yeah, yeah, uh

News just in
You got Kylie, Madonna, got Justin
Can't trust him
Yeah, mama said, "throw him in the dustbin"
Every time he on his own
Tell me lie-lie-lie-lie-, lie-lie-lie-lies
Baby's always on the road
Lemme dri-dri-dri-drive, dri-dri-dri-dri-drive
What's happenin'?
Got Britney, got Miley, got Kirsten
Can't catch him
Running red lights, he ain't tryna get busted
Cut the phone, you gotta go
Seeing blue li-li-li-lights, li-li-li-li-lights
I don't think you wanna know
You ain't 'bout that li-li-li-life, li-li-li-li-life

He only hit me with a text when he want that goddess-level sex
Boy, you got me f*cked up
What the hell is this?
Boy, you cute, but boy, you stress
I ain't like you, I don't mess with feds
Boy, you got me f*cked up
This ain't good for press

News just in
Can you hear the little Nokia ring-ring
Trap line boomin' (what?)

Can you leave me on my own?
All you do is lie-lie-lie-lie, lie-lie-lie-lie
Boy, you're reaping what you've sown
Playing with your li-li-li-life, li-li-li-li-life

This nigga tryna ruin my day (what?)
This nigga tryna get in my way (f*ck!)
This nigga been callin' my phone all day (huh)
Who the f*ck told him this was okay? (Ew, ew)
When I pop out I look like a model
Still a ratchet bitch, drinkin' straight out the bottle
Rockstar lifestyle, f*ck a tomorrow
I could see a f*ck nigga even with my eyes closed (woah)

He only hit me with a text when he want that goddess-level sex
Boy, you got me f*cked up
What the hell is this?
Boy, you cute, but boy, you stress
I ain't like you, I don't mess with feds
Boy, you got me f*cked up
This ain't good for press

Ooh, yeah

Can't come, can't come
Won't come, won't come
Can't come, can't come to the phone now
Get gone, get gone
I won't answer your call
Can't come, can't come to the phone now
I'm sorry, can't come to the phone (to the phone, to the phone)
Hit you with the busy tone, yeah (ooh)
Boy, what the f*ck is you on? (F*ck is you on? F*ck is you on?)
Ooh
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.




I don't like, I don't like, I don't like
Little Nokias, yeah, yeah, yeah, I don't, I don't
Yeah, yeah, uh

News just in
You got Kylie, Madonna, got Justin
Can't trust him
Yeah, mama said, "throw him in the dustbin"
Every time he on his own
Tell me lie-lie-lie-lie-, lie-lie-lie-lies
Baby's always on the road
Lemme dri-dri-dri-drive, dri-dri-dri-dri-drive
What's happenin'?
Got Britney, got Miley, got Kirsten
Can't catch him
Running red lights, he ain't tryna get busted
Cut the phone, you gotta go
Seeing blue li-li-li-lights, li-li-li-li-lights
I don't think you wanna know
You ain't 'bout that li-li-li-life, li-li-li-li-life

He only hit me with a text when he want that goddess-level sex
Boy, you got me f*cked up
What the hell is this?
Boy, you cute, but boy, you stress
I ain't like you, I don't mess with feds
Boy, you got me f*cked up
This ain't good for press

News just in
Can you hear the little Nokia ring-ring
Trap line boomin' (what?)

Can you leave me on my own?
All you do is lie-lie-lie-lie, lie-lie-lie-lie
Boy, you're reaping what you've sown
Playing with your li-li-li-life, li-li-li-li-life

This nigga tryna ruin my day (what?)
This nigga tryna get in my way (f*ck!)
This nigga been callin' my phone all day (huh)
Who the f*ck told him this was okay? (Ew, ew)
When I pop out I look like a model
Still a ratchet bitch, drinkin' straight out the bottle
Rockstar lifestyle, f*ck a tomorrow
I could see a f*ck nigga even with my eyes closed (woah)

He only hit me with a text when he want that goddess-level sex
Boy, you got me f*cked up
What the hell is this?
Boy, you cute, but boy, you stress
I ain't like you, I don't mess with feds
Boy, you got me f*cked up
This ain't good for press

Ooh, yeah

Can't come, can't come
Won't come, won't come
Can't come, can't come to the phone now
Get gone, get gone
I won't answer your call
Can't come, can't come to the phone now
I'm sorry, can't come to the phone (to the phone, to the phone)
Hit you with the busy tone, yeah (ooh)
Boy, what the f*ck is you on? (F*ck is you on? F*ck is you on?)
Ooh
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Brenda Wireko Mensah, Cleo Tighe, Finn Keane, Malik Foxx, Maria Cecilia Simone Kelly
Copyright: Lyrics © Sentric Music

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