Tag: Calvin Klein


Wale – My Boy (Freestyle) Lyrics




[Intro: Wale]
Come here, Cole
[?] here?
Nah, I’m here
Yeah, bounce, bounce
My boy, my boy
My boy, my boy, my boy
Yeah, right here

[Verse 1: Wale]
Ay, look, uh, yeah, ok
Concrete since day one
Ain’t no time to make up
Ain’t no time for that hoe
Like baby, word to a cup
Thank you for your services, invoicing all my haters
Be sure to leave your armour and your women penetrated
I give her back a [?]
Poof, get out her hair
I say congratulations, your old lady renovated
You niggas lazy, my boy
Why you hatin’, my guy?
You bought her Commes des Garcons
She come and play with your heart
I’m far from a popular artist
One of the hardest, no less
And I saw your woman, I call her low like a Cardigan sweater
Call her whatever you want
I got my revenue up
In Beverly Hills, my ceilings like the Beverly [?]
Since day one, Folarin been the same one
I came up in them gogos most of them was afraid of
Now kill mo’, say that
Now kill mo’, say that
But when your wheel is a fortune, you near gotta say jack
Don’t be talking too much
These niggas copy too much
These niggas cardio crazy, chasing clout must be tough
Fuck it, I wrote me, a dozen niggas got me fucked up
I raise my hands and raise your family’s casualties up
I’m faded
I’m playing
These niggas don’t be no gangster, they be playing it
Extortion ain’t dead, it just moved to the county
Shoot them out the S-class, I guess you won’t the problem
I know every who and who and every who [?]
What you call a piece of mind, I call a picture for a bounty
Hold up, yeah
I’m in my luggage, in my luggage, roll up, boy
I’m on the runway like I’m Jackie, hold up
Prolific, really be living my lyrics
So tell me, who did it this big and who ain’t ’bout to slow up?

[Hook: Wale]
My boy, my boy, my boy, my boy, my boy, my boy, my boy, my boy, my boy, my boy, my boy

[Verse 2: J Cole]
Who gon’ bring my crown to me?
And who won’ try to fuck with me?
Faded off the brown, she can’t get enough of me
I don’t play around, ain’t got that type of luxury
Bitches going down, it ain’t no catching up to me
Yes, stepped in the building with my vibe on a million
Slide on the beat like my God, I’m so brilliant
All other rappers, put your pride to the side
Try collide with the squad, turn your mob into corn on the cob
You’s a fraud, you’s a thorn in my side
I’m a knife in your back, I’m that turn of the knob
When the boy from the corner come rob you
And tie you up to something
Now, stop with all that frontin’
That big money talk should be reserved for those that got it
But when you really got it, you ain’t pressed to talk about it
That’s why I hear that capping on your raps and highly doubt it
The game too crowded, I’m ’bout to get all the way the fuck up out it
No if’s, and’s or but’s about it
30 mill’ on a deal depending on how the tour was rowded
I seen your watch when you first dropped, that shit was clouded
Which means, you used fugazi shit, fake it ’till you make it type
I shoot through you crazy with hollow tips
No holler backs, just how to raps
I got to black to make sure every dirty dollar stacked
Y’all aiming at the stars, bitch I’m aiming at your starter cap
Run, nigga, run like a fucking black quarterback (uh)
Stereotypical, but to hear me is spiritual
I will bury you niggas and come and air out your funeral
Have your homies on stretchers right next to Roman numerals
IV’s, IV’s, it’s the reason why nobody try me, try me
Have a nigga screaming, “Lord, why me? Why me?”
Cole did me grimey
He took it too far, he treat them bullets like they Siamese
Back to back, I clap like that’s a wrap
But no video shoots, just hoodies and boots putting your troops in
Pine boxes
I blew a million on white ties and Calvin Klein boxes
This nigga silly

[Hook: J Cole]
My boy, my boy, my boy, my boy, my boy, my boy, my boy, my boy, my boy, my boy, my boy, my boy, my boy, my boy, my boy

[Outro: Wale & J Cole]
Who gon’ bring the crown?
My boy, my boy, my boy, my boy, my boy
And who won’ try to fuck with me?
My boy, my boy, my boy, my boy, my boy
Faded off the brown, she can’t get enough of me
My boy, my boy, my boy, my boy, my boy
I don’t play around, ain’t got that type of luxury
My boy, my boy, my boy, my boy, my boy
Bitches going down, it ain’t catching up to me
My boy, my boy, my boy, my boy, my boy
Who gon’ bring my crown to me?
And who won’ try to fuck with me?
Faded off the brown, she can’t get enough of me
I don’t play around, ain’t got that type of luxury
Bitches going down, it ain’t catching up to me
Who gon’ bring my crown to me?
And who won’ try to fuck with me?
Faded off the brown, she can’t get enough of me
I don’t play around, ain’t got that type of luxury
Bitches going down, it ain’t catching up to me
Who gon’ bring my crown to me?
And who won’ try to fuck with me?
Faded off the brown, she can’t get enough of me
I don’t play around, ain’t got that type of luxury
Bitches going down, it ain’t catching up to me




Nasty C – Do U Digg Lyrics




[Chorus]
All white jiggy jigga new rockstar boots do you digg it
I bet a hundred thou there’s a ex bitch stalking this minute
Calvin Klein for my boss never had to wear [?]
Say she’ll never top me off
But can she put that on the cross
All white jiggy jigga new rockstar boots do you digg it
I bet a hundred thou there’s a ex bitch stalking this minute
Calvin Klein for my boss never had to wear [?]
Say she’ll never top me off
But can she put that on the cross

[Verse 1]
Walk in this bih like the president
Highjack your hoe for the heck of it
Highjack and lowjack
I just went down from [?] of it
Don’t want no mice in my cheese they stealing it
Stacking my g’s and m and m’s
Me and the money together forever but they wanna see us seperate
Bitch I might drop off a beat at heavens gate
On the real I’m just here giving hella brain
It was not a big deal she was celibate
I just flooded her face with some relatives
[?]
If I’m letting you win then I’m letting on
These niggers don’t know what I’m sitting on
These niggers don’t know what I’m sitting on

[Chorus]
All white jiggy jigga new rockstar boots do you digg it
I bet a hundred thou there’s a ex bitch stalking this minute
Calvin Klein for my boss never had to wear [?]
Say she’ll never top me off
But can she put that on the cross
All white jiggy jigga new rockstar boots do you digg it
I bet a hundred thou there’s a ex bitch stalking this minute
Calvin Klein for my boss never had to wear [?]
Say she’ll never top me off
But can she put that on the cross

[Verse 2]
I’m in here flexing my power
It’s making her shower
I woke up in action and got to the cash and called it the twenty fourth hour
I lost my virginity and started winning at this life thing
All I wanted rolex, ice ring, big chain, bad bitch
Nice things, respect, respect
The laaitie
Jiggy k dot
Jiggy rakim
Jiggy jay
Jiggy ye
Jiggy me
Do it like I’m working for a mini me
Shitting on my enemies
Dad I’m serious about my beeswax
Don’t touch that, don’t touch that
I’ll kill a body dead dufflebag
Don’t touch that

[Chorus]
All white jiggy jigga new rockstar boots do you digg it
I bet a hundred thou there’s a ex bitch stalking this minute
Calvin Klein for my boss never had to wear [?]
Say she’ll never top me off
But can she put that on the cross
All white jiggy jigga new rockstar boots do you digg it
I bet a hundred thou there’s a ex bitch stalking this minute
Calvin Klein for my boss never had to wear [?]
Say she’ll never top me off
But can she put that on the cross


A$AP Ferg – Kristi YamaGucci Lyrics


[Intro: NickNPattiWhack]
Aw lord baby, she got a flip phone
Damn baby, I been smokin’
Been chokin’ and its so potent baby, we high baby
And you got the silver Gucci by my man Ferg, baby
You a giant baby, you steppin’ on these niggas’ necks
Sometimes you gotta just ease that left foot off baby
And then put your right foot on the, on the top of them, baby
And choke them even harder
‘Cause you’s a dawg, you’s fuckin’ champ, these are puppies baby
They can’t fuck with you baby, lord

[Verse 1: A$AP Ferg]
Racks on racks on racks, Dapper Dan all on my back
Double G all on my cap, monogram on a Maybach
Testin’ that pussy like Pap (smear), eatin’ that bitch from the back (yeah)
Mumble rap all on that cat (yeah), [Lil Pump?] she makin’ it clap
I’m ’bout to write Yammy a letter, tell ’em I’m doin’ way better
“Plain Jane” the song of the year, I’m busy just chasin’ the lettuce
I’ma Calvin Klein model on billboards, I did a campaign with the fellas
Adidas done gave me another deal and Hennessy too, they got cheddar (alright)
Shoot videos in the PJs, then I go hop on a PJ (yeah)
They sendin’ me all these free clothes, momma just put it on eBay
I run the shit like a relay, niggas gon’ have to press replay
Yammy say hi to my daddy for me and Jam Master Jay for TJ

[Interlude: NickNPattiWhack]
Goddamn, nigga
When it be raining outside nigga, you the umbrella
‘Cause that shit just bounce off you with that Gucci
God, nigga I’ma call you Kristi YamaGucci, baby
‘Cause you just all over the fuckin’ world with this shit, baby
Niggas cannot touch you

[Verse 2: Denzel Curry]
Trench coat mob is a Go-Go Gadget
You don’t wanna see a pretty scene get drastic
Fuckin’ with the lords, no Frodo Baggins
Niggas bring your clothes to the screen like a fat bitch
Even though my name is Denzel, no actin’
Pap-pap, puttin’ everything inside a casket
Track that, everything is gonna be a classic
Wrap that, put that bitch inside a prophylactic
When I’m rappin’, got no hard-on, double tappin’
From a city built on coke and pistol-packin’
See you flaggin’ and they packin’ what you lackin’
Take you out and then they act like nothin’ happen
Amnesia, got rid of the heater
Back in the hood where they blowin’ on reefer
I follow the light while you follow the leader
Now a nigga overseas where they checkin’ my Visa, look

[Interlude: NickNPattiWhack]
Nah baby, what kinda flip phone you got?
Is that a Nextel baby, Chirp baby
This nigga got a Boost, baby, what the fuck
Nigga, you gotta step it up
You need to get you a trap phone
You need to get one of these fuckin’ Motorolas
Niggas can’t even track us, baby

[Verse 3: IDK]
Finger roll, finger roll, finger roll, finger roll, dunk, yeah
Ballin’ on my enemies, I ain’t even tyin’ up to punks
Imagine when I tie ’em up, yeah
I shake ’em, they gon’ need a crutch, yeah
And I ain’t talkin’ groupie bitches when I say they got their panties in a bunch
I’m talkin’ niggas, I ain’t talkin’ nada
They ain’t talkin’ figures, gotta be six, seven or better
Tryna get a house, gotta get my bread up
Tryna stay on pace? you gon’ have to step up
Cruisin’ in a Wraith, see if they make a get-up
Pull up to the place, fucked her when we met up
Yeah, I’m gettin’ buzz, but I never let up
I ain’t seen a doctor, but I got my check up, check up, check up, check up, check up
I’m playin’ chess, you stuck on checkers
That’s why your gang can never check us
They take your chain, and now you neck-less
Check up, check up, check up, check up
I got a check on my watch (wait)
I’m losin’ track of time ’cause I don’t hear tick or no tock (yeah)


ASAP Ferg – Kristi YamaGucci lyrics


Aw lord baby, she got a flip phone
Damn baby, I been smoking
Been choking and its so potent baby, we high baby
And you got the silver Gucci by my man Ferg, baby
You a giant baby, you steppin’ on these niggas’ necks
Sometimes you gotta just ease that left foot off baby
And then put your right foot on the, on the top of them, baby
And choke them even harder
‘Cause you’s a dawg, you’s f*cking [??], these are puppies baby
They can’t f*ck with you baby, lord

[Verse 1: A$AP Ferg]
Racks on racks on racks
Dapper Dan all on my back
Double G all on my cap
Monogram on a Maybach
Testing that n*gger like Pap (smear)
Eating that bitch from the back (yeah)
Mumble rap all on that cat (yeah)
Lil Pump she makin’ it clap
I’m ’bout to write here me a letter
Tell ’em I’m doing way better
“Plain Jane” the song of the year
I’m busy just chasing the lettuce
I’ma Calvin Klein model on billboards
I did a campaign with the fellas
Adidas done gave me another deal
And Hennessy too, they got cheddar (alright)
Shoot videos in the PJ’s
Then I go hop on a PJ (yeah)
They sending me all these free clothes
Momma just put it on eBay
I run the sh*t like a relay
Niggas gon’ have to press replay
Yammy say hi to my daddy for me
And Jam Master Jay for TJ

[Interlude: NickNPattiWhack]
Goddamn, nigga
When it be raining outside nigga, you the umbrella
‘Cause that sh*t just bounce off you with that Gucci
God, nigga I’ma call you Kristi YamaGucci, baby
‘Cause you just all over the f*ckin’ world with this sh*t, baby
Niggas cannot touch you

[Verse 2: Denzel Curry]
Trench coat mob is a Go-Go Gadget
You don’t wanna see a pretty scene get drastic
Fuckin’ with the lords, no Frodo Baggins
Niggas bring your clothes to the screen like a fat bitch
Even though my name is Denzel, no actin’
Pap-pap, puttin’ everything inside a casket
Track that, everything is gonna be a classic
Wrap that, put that bitch inside a prophylactic
When I’m rappin’, got no hard-on, double tappin’
From a city built on coke and pistol-packin’
See you flagging and they packin’ what you lackin’
Take you out and then they act like nothin’ happen
Amnesia got rid of the heater
Back in the hood where they blowin’ on reefer
I follow the light while you follow the leader
Now a nigga overseas where they checkin’ my Visa, look

[Interlude: NickNPattiWhack]
Nah baby, what kinda flip phone you got?
Is that a Nextel baby, Chirp baby
This nigga got a Boost, baby, what the f*ck
Nigga, you gotta step it up
You need to get you a trap phone
You need to get one of these f*ckin’ Motorola’s
Niggas can’t even track us, baby

[Verse 3: IDK]
Finger roll, finger roll, finger roll, finger roll, dunk, yeah
Ballin’ on my enemies, I ain’t even tying up to punks
Imagine when I tie ’em up, yeah
I shake ’em, they gon’ need a crutch, yeah
And I ain’t talking groupie bitches when I say they got their panties in a bunch
I’m talking niggas, I ain’t talking nada
They ain’t talking figures, gotta be six, seven or better
Tryna get a house, gotta get my bread up
Tryna stay on pace? you gon’ have to step up
Cruising in a Wraith, see if they make a get-up
Pull up to the place, f*cked her when we met up
Yeah, I’m getting buzz, but I never let up
I ain’t seen a doctor, but I got my check up, check up, check up, check up, check up
I’m playing chess, you stuck on checkers
That’s why your gang can never check us
They take your chain, and now you neck-less
Check up, check up, check up, check up
I got a check on my watch (wait)
I’m losing track of time ’cause I don’t hear tick or no tock (yeah)