Foreign Song Lyrics

Future – CUDDLE MY WRIST Lyrics

Future – CUDDLE MY WRIST Lyrics

Future – CUDDLE MY WRIST Lyrics

CUDDLE MY WRIST Lyrics by Future

[Intro]
Zaytoven
Cuddle my wrist, cu-cu-cuddle my wrist
Cuddle my b—h, cu-cu-cuddle my bit’
Cuddle my wrist, cu-cu-cuddle my wrist
Cuddle my, cu-
Cuddle my, cuddle

[Hook/Chorus]
Cuddle my wrist, cuddle my b—h, cuddle my wrist
Cuddle my b—h, cuddle my wrist, cuddle my wrist

[Refrain]
I got this monkey on my back
I walk around with 500 racks
I keep the city on my shoulders, carry it ’round like a bag of stacks
I put a kid on a (?)
Down to Miami, the a-s fat
N—a wanna play with the murda squad
F–k around, I had to call up scratch

[Verse 1]
Goyard as soon as the bag got packed
Zone 6, sure, I ain’t showing no slack
Never been a quitter, I’ma turn it to the max
Lean, I’ma look and take a good batch
Real dope dudes don’t hang around racks
Four by four, said toss it to the left
(?)
(?), Rollie in the mat
Glock four-oh, plastic at
VV coated, cinammon chest
P—y a-s n—-s don’t call no threat
I’m a big dog, you ain’t nothing but a pet
Weak a-s n—a boutta run outta check
Tryna keep up, better step up your neck
Had to eat it up when I caught up against
Snacking on me, ain’t nothing to address

[Hook/Chorus]
Cuddle my wrist, cuddle my b—h, cuddle my wrist
Cuddle my b—h, cuddle my wrist, cuddle my wrist

[Verse 2]
Fifty-five mil’ on my carats
I never had to go and move on
Fishscale when you speak my status
Future already don’t pick up the phone
We on a regular line, n—a
I can’t talk ’bout nothing at all
I heard y’all n—a get flatline
You better not tell the man what you saw
Soon as I drop, I got flinched up
F–k all that drama, got heat up
I stop that hitta, my cuts up
Y’all to go crazy and bust up
Young n—a already purchased Ferrari
I came in with the head off
Jumbo panty gon’ crush a career
All these wheels, got dust on the wheel
So many foreigns, a car doesn’t show it
Poured up my cup when I hopped in the whip
Dripping severe, the guard is here
Dixon here, I got chartered here

[Refrain]
I got this monkey on my back
I walk around with 500 racks
I keep the city on my shoulders, carry it ’round like a bag of stacks
I put a kid on a (?)
Down to Miami, the a-s fat
N—a wanna play with the murda squad
F–k around, I had to call up scratch

[Hook/Chorus]
Cuddle my wrist, cuddle my b—h, cuddle my wrist
Cuddle my b—h, cuddle my wrist, cuddle my wrist

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