LITTLE NOKIA - Bree Runway

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

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 fucked up

What the hell is next?

Boy, you cute, but boy you stress

I ain’t like you, I don’t mess with feds

Boy, you got me fucked up

This ain’t good for press

News just in

Can you hear the little Nokia ring-ring

Trap line booming

(Ring, ring) (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

He only hit me with a text when he want that goddess-level sex

Boy, you got me fucked up

What the hell is next?

Boy, you cute, but boy you stress

I ain’t like you, I don’t mess with feds

Boy, you got me fucked up

This ain’t good for press

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 (come to the phone, to the phone)

Hit you with the busy tone, yeah (Ooh)

Boy, what the fuck is you on?

(Fuck is you on? Fuck is you on?)

Oh