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"Late to the Party" Lyrics

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Yeah, fuck BET (yeah), fuck BET (yeah), fuck BET (yeah, yeah)
Yeah, fuck BET (they know that), yeah (they know that)
Yeah, ayy (D-D-Daytrip took it to ten, hey)
Yeah

Lick it all up (mhm, mm)
Slurp it (mhm, ah), make it sloppy (okay, okay, okay, okay, okay)
Look at how I top shit, bitch
I just put like three up in the top ten
And I don't need nobody, I just need these CCs on my body
Everything I do, bitch, right or wrong, gon' make a profit
Read about it
I don't even got to sing about it ('bout it)
I wake up with the money that you niggas dream about, uh

Cheese all on my line, uh, cheese all on my side, yeah
They don't want it like that, they want me to die, yeah
Cheese all on my line, uh, cheese all on my side, yeah (ayy)
They don't want it like that, they want me to die

Don't try me, you better save that shit for somebody else
Don't try me, 'cause, bitch, I can't be late to the party, yeah
Yeah, you know we got a

Hundred (grr) inside this bitch, a hundred sticks
A hundred bitches with a hundred thousand on my wrist, yeah
Baddie in my bed and she plan on drivin' me (what?)
Demons in my head, I can't stop them all from rottin' me
She want me to buy her some CC
She wanna eat and I hope that she don't bite, nah
She on her knees, and she worshipin' right now
With her friend I'm flirtin', now she wan' fight now
These people they know not to try me
I get in that mode and collect me a body
I'm up in New York like I'm Gotti
I'm ridin' lil' shorty like new Kawasakis

Cheese all on my line, uh, cheese all on my side, yeah
They don't want it like that, they want me to die, yeah
Cheese all on my line, uh, cheese all on my side, yeah (ayy)
They don't want it like that, they want me to die

Don't try me, you better save that shit for somebody else
Don't try me, 'cause, bitch, I can't be late to the party, yeah
Yeah, you know we got a

Hmm, get it, uh (get it)
Window double tinted (yeah, yeah)
Face sittin' pretty, you bitches wouldn't get it, uh (yeah)
I'm at Met Gala in Versace and it's fitted, uh
Farted on these niggas (pfft), oops, I think I shitted

He want X, I'm likin' his sister
Want her per perform, so I gotta book her (let's go, let's go)
She say, "Chanel bag," plus I'm gon' flood her ears with boogers
They know not to try me, they know for a fact that I got it
On my hip and blue hundreds inside of my pocket
Mercedes Benz with the Brabus kit body
I shift it, I hit it, take off like a rocket (vroom)
Long as she don't tell nobody, I'm gon' caress her whole body, uh
Know I'm ready as soon as she cum, uh
I lick it as soon as I'm done (yeah, uh)
Don't wan' be late for the party (mmm, ah, ah)
You know I turn up, they can't never turn me down

Don't try me, you better save that shit for somebody else
Don't try me, 'cause, bitch, I can't be late to the party, yeah
Yeah, you know we got a

Yeah, fuck BET (yeah), fuck BET (yeah), fuck BET
Yeah, fuck BET (they know that), yeah, yeah (they know that), ayy, yeah
song info:
Verified yes
LanguageEnglish
Genre
Rank
Duration00:03:00
Charts
Copyright ©Universal Music Publishing Group
WriterMontero Hill, David Biral, Denzel Baptise, Kentrell DeSean Gaulden, Jason Goldberg, Roy Lenzo, Russell Chell
Lyrics licensed byLyricFind
AddedJune 23rd, 2022
Last updatedJune 29th, 2022
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