Video Capricorn de Alana Bee 2025 Lyrics Lyrics

Alana Bee - Capricorn Lyrics

{Intro} If I was you i'd be embarrassed
All the shit you've done to me in my lyrics. (Damn)
From the X so I know what I cherish
I'm the baddest, i'm like the rarest
You blowin' up my phone
You know I can't stand it

{Verse}
I'm sensitive but I still fuck up the party
Can't fuck with a Libra they always come tardy
You can't take my place
You not a baddie
Like i'm sensitive
But they still like me and give me they addy(Grah)
Four years and you waitin'
But we sexually speaking, like damn
Capricorn crippin' (Crip)
Getting litty, and they call me tippy

{Bridge}- Bitches want to fuck with me
Build up the anger, like damn
This bitch from decatur
Like red is my favor. I love you, bae
But damn making me a hater
Got her jealous now i'm a Cater
Like a capricorn, bitch be a faker
{Verse}
Doin’ my dance so I don’t give a fuck
He starin’ at me but he won't be the one
She actin' like a cunt. (Wow!)
Bitch i'm a baddie so I got it done. (damn)
She nervous, I want a one on one
Zodiacs don't explain me
But it do show where i'm at
I'm a Capricorn, not your damn lad
{Chorus}
Shake that ass, shake that ass, shake that ass
(Yeah) Bend it over, Bend it over, Bend it over
(Huh) Make it clap, make it clap, make it clap
Capricorn crippin' back (ay ay ay)
(Yeah B. Blitz hahaha)

Verse-
Cute niggas can't get a hold of me
Cuz like really i'm really her
When it's money on the floor, then i'm pulling up, irr
Yeah, i'm a bad lil bitch, yeah i get that shit
Fuck you mean i'm not that type bitch
Can't be talking, she like Jasmine Sullivan
Got hard beats, we drillin' it
She ain't redlo, she just poppin' shit
In your block though, cuz we killin' it. Big Bands and he still in shit
{Chorus}
Shake that ass, shake that ass, shake that ass
(Yeah) Bend it over, Bend it over, Bend it over
(Huh) Make it clap, make it clap, make it clap
Capricorn crippin' back (ay ay ay)
(Yeah B. Blitz hahaha)
Short Verse-
C-Love if you in doubt, Deluxe pose if you gotta pout. I'm a baddie, like, you ain't changin' me, not a diss or a third degree, just a burn to tell you your hair look like a weave
(Haha, haa, in the booth, for real)
(Show em' the word, Blitz.)
(SL, Markese end another hit, ye!)