Fresh Outta London (Explicit)

Fresh Outta London (Explicit) - Jake Paul

J-J-Joey

I don't need new friends I don't like fake friends

Only here to make M's call when the check in

I don't like partial need the whole backend

Fresh outta London she still got an accent

The crib like a palace I took her to 'Basas

If he want a feature then we gotta tax him

I got me a bad b***h the cover of Maxim

The comments is shook up they throwin' a tantrum yeah

Wrist is flooded

No competition can't listen ain't talkin' 'bout s**t

I'm lit they know it

They wanna hate on the music but I'm makin' hits

These hundreds I throw 'em

I need like eighty a show that's some minimum s**t

I leave the house and I'm wearin' some s**t you can't get

And I swear this s**t cost like a brick

I've been runnin' up M's all week I'm a vet

Quick trip for the bag fell asleep on a jet

On a different time this an Audemars Piguet

See eight bad b***hes like the brand new 'Vette skrrt

We gon' get 'em all why the f**k I would I stress

Think I need rehab I'm addicted to a check

And she gon' say it's love but she know

I want the sex

B***h don't you dare leave a hickey on my neck

'Cause the Cullinan massage my back I'm stressed I'm stressed

Stars in the roof get the b***h undressed

With an a*s like that I forget my ex haha

Racks like this meant that God I'm blessed

I been on top I should beat my chest

Tell you that she loyal we gon' put her to the test

Wanna lose your b***h

Well then be my guest

'Cause I been real cold in this Moncler vest

I don't need new friends I don't like fake friends

Only here to make M's call when the check in

I don't like partial need the whole backend

Fresh outta London she still got an accent

The crib like a palace I took her to 'basas

If he want a feature then we gotta tax him

I got me a bad b***h the cover of Maxim

The comments is shook up they throwin' a tantrum yeah

Wrist is flooded

No competition can't listen ain't talkin' 'bout s**t

I'm lit they know it

They wanna hate on the music but I'm makin' hits

These hundreds I throw 'em

I need like eighty a show that's some minimum s**t

I leave the house and I'm wearin' some s**t you can't get

And I swear this s**t cost like a brick