Tag: FADER


Kevin Abstract – American Problem Lyrics


Play this song

[Intro]
Could you (Could you) try (Ooh, now, now, now)
To remember what you said tonight
Do you remember how high we was? (Ooh, boy)
If I, if I don’t want to say sorry (If I don’t want to)
Then nigga, I won’t (Aye-ya-ya-ya-ya)
Motherfuck a high road (Aye-ya-ya-ya-ya)
As it closes

[Verse 1]
Who touchin’ now, who touchin’ now, who touchin’ my bag?
You’re hurtin’ me bad, I ain’t seen the glass, it’s the summer
I ain’t going bad, better believe in that, had to creep in fast
Think I’m finna burn it, burn it to the ground, bruh

[Chorus]
I drink, I smoke, I drink, I smoke, I drink until I sleep
(You gotta pass the thing over her)
I know, I know, I know, I know, this shit gon’ catch up to me
(Yeah, yeah, yeah shawty, I)
I drink, I smoke, I drink, I smoke, I drink until I sleep
(You gotta pass the thing over her)
I know, I know, I know, I know, red wine gon’ catch up to me
(West Side, red, red wine)

[Verse 2]
I can’t sleep next to no one
Who don’t look like, who don’t look like you
And all my girlfriends, they tell me
“Well you would’ve been better if you picked someone who was just like you”
(Who touchin’ now, who touchin’ now, who touchin’ my mind?)

[Interlude]
You gotta pass the thing over her
Yeah, yeah, yeah shawty, I
(Microphone check, check, one, two)
You gotta pass the thing over her
(Microphone check, check, one, two)
Yeah, shawty, West Side, yeah, West Side, shawty
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

[Verse 3]
I’m stuck in the van with a mask on
Think about taking my life, but the plan’s wrong
Think about finding a way to make the sand go, gone
I need another song to sing along to
Ninth grade, Tyler was the illest shit I ever heard
Going to his concerts, no mask, singing every word
I think it’s kinda crazy how my life panned out
I think it sucks that you and I ain’t work out
I used to sleep on Jon’s couch, saying I’ll be out this bitch sooner than later
17, I said I was gon’ make some shit that was gon’ be bigger than the FADER
I wanna be Paramount
I wanna move far away and buy my parents a house
I was obsessed with a blouse, I just liked the way it looked
I thought a brother was cute
He was older than his dawg, I was breaking the rules
I was a flaming faggot, that’s what the principal called me
Not to my face, but I felt when I was stuck in his office
I’m just a, I’m just another American problem, my nigga
Uh, uh, yeah, uh
Another American problem


Tory Lanez – March 2nd


[Verse]
Second cycle, the kid is movin’ like Billy Idol
With some past due W’s that I’m still entitled
City love me I treat it like it’s a bridal
Tux black as the strap I’m using to hit the rival
Last album was great but I know this one is greater
I made it this far as a great tastemaker without a spread from Complex and them covers that come in from FADER
I’m at tables with mans you love it
Fuck it, I made it from buckets
Slept in the rugged seats of a Civic
To walking through the city and niggas screaming I did it
I spit this shit from way back for ’em
This for niggas that told me
"I’ll come back" but never came back for ’em
Loyal to them so I wait back for ’em like they my niggas
Knowin’ they isn’t, these niggas so insufficient
When we was both dealing, I used to throw in the pigeon
I guess, that mean nothing when niggas start coexisting
I done lost some good girls and niggas that I would cope with
Been backstabbed by niggas I used to smoke with
As far as rap I’m not the one to toe-to-toe with or go at it blow for blow with the silly shit no for no with
Money on the line, its money all on my mind
Calculating this vision, I sum it up for the grind
I promise when I got it I’d fuck it up for the times
Put 20k on the tab and buss it up every time, you get me?
In a Bentley smokin’ on a fat 20, jealous niggas don’t offend me, Dior dripped in the Fendi
I do it for the family OGs that never sent me on mission when I was down to put clip in and leave it empty and work
I ain’t trippin’ ’bout who got at me and dissed
I’m blessed, when I think about who shot at me and missed
I came from real situations
Niggas got clapped for little insinuations, time and impatience
Been grindin’, finding my way in so much bros like the Wayans
Sometime it weigh me down whenever they try weigh in
In the day out, in the day in, shooters on say when
Niggas got clapped before the day end
The city I come from, taught me that there’s nothing to run from
It taught me get my money in lump sums
So ’til that day, still at war, I’m still at pay
Never change boy, we still that way
It’s young Fargo


Tory Lanez – March 2nd Lyrics


[Verse]
Second cycle, the kid is movin’ like Billy Idol
With some past due W’s that I’m still entitled
City love me I treat it like it’s a bridal
Tux black as the strap I’m using to hit the rival
Last album was great, but I know this one is greater
I made it this far as a great tastemaker without a spread from Complex and them covers that come in from FADER
I’m at tables with mans you love it
Fuck it, I made it from buckets
Slept in the rugged seats of a Civic
To walking in the city and niggas screaming I did it
I spit this shit from way back for ’em
This for niggas that told me, “I’ll come back” but never came back for ’em
Loyal to them so I wait back for ’em like they my niggas
Knowin’ they isn’t, these niggas so insufficient
When we was both dealing, I used to throw in the pigeon
I guess, that mean nothing when niggas start coexisting
I done lost some good girls and niggas that I would cope with
Been backstabbed by niggas I used to smoke with
As far as rap I’m not the one to toe-to-toe with or go at it blow for blow with the silly shit no for no with
Money on the line, its money all on my mind
Calculating this vision, I sum it up for the grind
I promise when I got it I’d fuck it up for the times
Put 20k on the tab and buss it up every time, you get me?
In a Bentley smokin’ on a fat 20, jealous niggas don’t offend me, Dior dripped in the Fendi
I do it for the family OGs that never sent me on mission when I was down to put clip in and leave it empty and work
I ain’t trippin’ ’bout who got at me and dissed
I’m blessed, when I think about who shot at me and missed
I came from real situations
Niggas got clapped for little insinuations, time and impatience
Been grindin’, finding my way in so much bros like the Wayans
Sometime it weigh me down whenever they try weigh in
In the day out, in the day in, shooters on say when
Niggas got clapped before the day end
The city I come from, taught me that there’s nothing to run from
It taught me get my money in lump sums
So ’til that day, still at war, I’m still at pay
Never change boy, we still that way
It’s young Fargo