Blastoff Lyrics – Internet Money

Blastoff song is from the album B4 The Storm. The song is sung by Internet Money. The song’s music is composed & penned by Nicholas Mira, Kim Candilora II, William Repko II, Danny Lee Snoddgrass Jr, Henry Nichols. Music Label TenThousand Projects, Internet Money.
 

Blastoff Song Credits
 

Song Title – Blastoff
Album – B4 The Storm
Composer – Nicholas Mira, Kim Candilora II, William Repko II, Danny Lee Snoddgrass Jr. , Henry Nichols
Singer – Internet Money
Lyricist – Nicholas Mira, Kim Candilora II, William Repko II, Danny Lee Snoddgrass Jr, Henry Nichols
Music Label – TenThousand Projects, Internet Money

 

Blastoff Song Lyrics

Internet Money, bitch
Hahahaha, Nick, you’re stupid

Baby, come and have a blast with me
Do everything I say like your majesty
Fuck with the gang and it be a tragedy
Fuck with my shooters, they in the back with me

Fuck with me baby, come get this bag with me
Been alone for a minute, that shit been dragging me
Craving your love, it’s heart-attacking me
Tryna get in that pussy, baby, that mac and cheese

I cannot show these bitches no sympathy
Or these niggas, they simps and they hella bitch to me
I was just fortunate, got the remedy
Fuck that bitch and then dip, I got them chips to receive, yeah

Baby, come and have a blast with me
Do everything I say like your majesty
Fuck with the gang and it be a tragedy
Fuck with my shooters, they in the back with me

You picked that knife up and you stabbin’ me
Wish it was a paper cut, but it’s a gash, I bleed out
And the way you keep harassin’ me
It’s a shame this the way that it has to be, oh
Uh, yeah, time is of the essence

You know damn well you bring hell, I should call a reverend
Devil horns on a angel, still haven’t learned my lesson
We’re a mess and our life’s a wreck
Toxic, toxic, toxic
The most beautiful things grow old and start rottin’
I should’ve turned away when I found out you were demonic

Let’s be honest, you’re the devil’s daughter
Say hey to your father, uh, he owe me twenty dollars
We gon’ run through hell with like twenty-hundred choppers
We gon’ give ’em hell and I put that on my mama
Me and Trippie Redd boolin’ back in the Bahamas

Baby, come and have a blast with me
Do everything I say like your majesty
Fuck with the gang and it be a tragedy
Fuck with my shooters, they in the back with me

Fuck with me baby, come get this bag with me
Been alone for a minute, that shit been dragging me
Craving your love, it’s heart-attacking me
Tryna get in that pussy, baby, that mac and cheese

Gang, gang, gang
Probably fuckin’ your mama
Three K on my wrist like André
Servin’ like entrée
Ha, huh, you dig, you dig, you dig

Blastoff Video

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