Tag: KD


Quavo – FUCK 12 lyrics




[Intro: Malcolm X]
We are denied not only civil rights, but even human rights. So the only way we’re going to get some of this exploitation away from us, or aside from us… Who taught you to hate the race that you belong to? So much so that you don’t want to be around each other. Who taught you to hate the texture of your hair? Who taught you to hate the color of your skin?

[Verse 1: Quavo]
Fabrics, fabrics (Whoo)
Expensive, linen (Linen)
Put that bitch in the kitchen, in the kitchen whippin’
Back in the days, I was doin’ lord willin’
Mama gonna kill me, double cup spillin’ (Spillin’)
Every time I get the hundo, Will I’m trippin’
Every time your bitch phone rings she workin’ (brr-brr)
Get no playin’ time, Kendrick Perkins
Rockin’ Timbs like I’m in New Jersey (Jersey)
Dubs versus Hawks, took off KD jersey
And he scored a 30
Up real early, servin’, servin’, servin’
Fuck that bitch, she a virgin (Smash)
Said she had to go to work, she was nursin’ (Nursin’)
I can turn the pot to the armed service (Service)
I declare war on your whole 30
Choppa hold a hunnid
If I wasn’t real, I would be a hunnid
So that mean everything authentic (‘Thentic)
Every car I get, windows presidented (Presidented)

[Chorus: Quavo]
Fuck 12, fuck 12 (Woo woo)
Fuck 12, fuck 12, fuck 12 (Woo woo)
Fuck 12, fuck 12, fuck 12 (Woo woo)
Fuck 12, fuck 12, fuck 12 (Woo woo)
Fuck 12, fuck 12, fuck 12 (Woo woo)
Fuck 12, fuck 12, fuck 12 (Woo woo)
Fuck 12, fuck 12, fuck 12 (Woo woo)
Fuck 12, fuck 12, fuck 12 (Woo woo)
Fuck 12, fuck 12 (Yeah, hey!)
Fuck 12, fuck 12, fuck 12 (Woo woo)
Fuck 12, fuck 12, fuck 12 (Woo woo)
Fuck 12, fuck 12, fuck 12 (Woo woo)
Fuck 12, fuck 12, fuck 12 (Woo woo)
Fuck 12, fuck 12, fuck 12 (Woo woo)
Fuck 12, fuck 12, fuck 12 (Woo woo)
Fuck 12, fuck 12, fuck 12 (Woo woo)

[Verse 2: Offset]
Offset
Knocking at the door, bail
Cookin’ up the dope, rope tail
You can get a whole wholesale (Wholesale)
Fuck 12, 12 on my coattails
They hatin’, contemplatin’ on the money I’m makin’
First niggas trappin’ out the bando, you fakin’
Karate chop the brick, cut it up, Ninja Gaiden
Go and get the re-up, out the buck, not later
Kickin’ my feet up, the J wanna eat up
Your bitch addicted to this drip like a needle
Detective on my back, just took my money, I’m illegal
Shootin’ at the pigs, they been killin’ all our people
Young, rich, black, got my mama on my back
Daddy disappeared when my mama took him back
You shot him ’cause you thought he had a gun or he black
You better watch out for the boys when you’re black

[Verse 3: Quavo]
I’m doin’ just what I wanna (For real)
Don’t believe me, bet a hundred (Bet it)
Bet a nigga won’t go under (Bet it)
Huncho realest out the jungle (Huncho)
I got the bricks from Wakanda (Bricks)
Them boys did the block over yonder (Skrr)
12 tried to pull a young nigga over
One call to my mama
‘Cause I’m black, I don’t know how to act
Fuck the front seat, I go sit in the back
‘Cause I’m black, I don’t know how to act
Double my cup and pour yak (Martell)
‘Cause I’m black, I don’t give a fuck about that
You judging me off the face tats (Whoa)
And I’m black (Black)
Whips on my back got me the whips out back (Whoo)

[Chorus: Quavo]
Fuck 12, fuck 12
Fuck 12, fuck 12, fuck 12
Fuck 12, fuck 12, fuck 12
Fuck 12, fuck 12, fuck 12
Fuck 12, fuck 12, fuck 12
Fuck 12, fuck 12, fuck 12
Fuck 12, fuck 12, fuck 12
Fuck 12, fuck 12, fuck 12

[Outro: Quavo, Malcolm X & others]
Hands up, don’t shoot
Hands up, don’t shoot
Hands up, don’t shoot (Fuck ’em)
Hands up, don’t shoot (Fuck ’em)
Hands up, don’t shoot (Fuck ’em)
Hands up, don’t shoot (Fuck ’em)
Hands up, don’t shoot
(Fuck ’em, fuck ’em, fuck ’em, fuck ’em)
We are being killed every day
This gon’ be your life every day
You gon’ get tired of this shit before we do
You can ask yourself who taught you to hate being what God made you
Fuck ’em
Fuck ’em




Nicki Minaj – Ganja Burns lyrics




[Verse 1]
Ayo, as the world turns, the blunt burns
(Who you gettin’ at, Nicki?)
Watch them cunts learn
Fashion icon, Audrey Hepburn
I move keys, but you hoes get one turn
Yeah, you get one turn, and one urn
I straighten all these bitches out with one perm
Who ever gassed ’em ain’t none of my concern
But, see, the Lord showed me dreams to confirm
They done went to witch doctors to bury the Barbie
But I double back, kill bitches, bury the body
And that go for anybody, you’ll be thoroughly sorry
I could wage war or I come in peace like Gandhi
All my powers back now I’m scary to zombies
Bring the heat to a sizzle, I ain’t talking Kalonji
I done fasted and prayed, had to cleanse my body
Abstaining from sex, had to zen my body
I ain’t giving, so don’t ask, I don’t lend my body
Gotta be king status to give a man my body
(He gotta be king status to get in ya body?)
Fuck, yeah, cause a Queen is what I embody, uh

[Chorus]
Ganja burn, ganja burn, ganja burn
Ganja burn, ganja burn, ganja burn
Everytime I get high, I just think about you
Everytime I get high, I just think about you
Everytime I get high, I just think about you
Everytime I get high, I just think about you
Ganja burn, ganja burn, ganja burn
Ganja burn, ganja burn, ganja burn

[Verse 2]
Yo, you can’t wear Nicki wig and then be Nicki
That’s like a fat nigga thinkin’ he can be Biggie
One rough ride, now you DMX and Swissy
One hot video, you hyped? Now you just giddy
You made one dope beat, now you Kanye?
You got a nigga named JAY, now you ‘Yoncé?
You got about three stacks, now you André?
You put a part in your fade, oh, you Nas, bae?
You gotta have real skill, gotta work for that
If it’s really your passion would you give the world for that?
Unlike a lot of these hoes whether wack or lit
At least I can say I wrote every rap I spit
Put my blood, sweat and tears in perfecting my craft
Still every team’s number one pick in the draft
You could bring anybody, weatherman, pick a day
Kobe, KD, Kyrie! Pick a K

[Chorus]
Ganja burn, ganja burn, ganja burn (Mmm)
Ganja burn, ganja burn, ganja burn
Everytime I get high, I just think about you
Everytime I get high, I just think about you
Everytime I get high, I just think about you
Everytime I get high, I just think about you
Ganja burn, ganja burn, ganja burn
Ganja burn, ganja burn, ganja burn

[Bridge]
See ya, see you
See ya, see you

[Outro]
To my surprise I saw you
To my surprise I knew you were


Nicki Minaj – Ganja Burn lyrics


[Verse 1]
Ayo, as the world turns, the blunt burns
(Where you gettin’ at, Nicki?)
Watch them cunts learn
Fashion icon, Audrey Hepburn
I move keys, but you hoes get one turn
Yeah, you get one turn, and one urn
I straighten all these bitches out with one perm
Who ever gassed ’em ain’t none of my concern
But, see the Lord showed me dreams to confirm
They done went to witch doctors to bury the Barbie
But I double back, kill bitches, bury the body
And that go for anybody, you’ll be thoroughly sorry
I could wage war or I come in peace like Gandhi
All my powers back now I’m scary to zombies
Bring the heat to a sizzle, I ain’t talking [?]
I done fasted and prayed, had to cleanse my body
Abstaining from sex, had to zen my body
I ain’t giving, so don’t ask, I don’t lend my body
Gotta be king status to get in my body
(He gotta be king status to get in ya body?)
Fuck, yeah, cause a Queen is what I embody

[Chorus]
Ganja burn, ganja burn, ganja burn, oh
Ganja burn, ganja burn, ganja burn, oh
Everytime I get high I just think about you
Everytime I get high I just think about you
Everytime I get high I just think about you
Everytime I get high I just think about you
Ganja burn, ganja burn, ganja burn
Ganja burn, ganja burn, ganja burn

[Verse 2]
Yo, you can’t wear Nicki wig and just be Nicki
That’s like a fat nigga thinkin’ he can be Biggie
Oh you drink CÎROC now? Okay, you P Diddy?
Oh you a young G Herbo or Lil Bibby?
You made one cold beat, now you Kanye?
You got a nigga named Jay, now you Yoncé?
You got about three stacks, now you André?
You put a part in your fade now you’re Nas babe?
You gotta have real skill
Gotta work for that
If it’s really your passion would you give the world for that?
Unlike a lot of these hoes where the wack a lick
At least I can say I wrote every rap I spit
Put my blood, sweat and tears in perfecting my craft
Still every team’s number one pick in the draft
You could bring anybody, weather man, pick a day
Kobe, KD, Kyrie! Pick a K

[Chorus]
Ganja burn, ganja burn, ganja burn, oh
Ganja burn, ganja burn, ganja burn, oh
Everytime I get high I just think about you
Everytime I get high I just think about you
Everytime I get high I just think about you
Everytime I get high I just think about you
Ganja burn, ganja burn, ganja burn
Ganja burn, ganja burn, ganja burn

[Outro]
Aah, na-na-na, na-na-na, na-na-na, na-na-na na
Na-na-na, na-na-na, na-na-na, na-na-na, na


Lil Baby – Pikachu (No Keys) (feat. Drake) lyrics


[Intro: Drake & Future]
Yeah, 6IX
Wheezy out of here

[Verse 1: Drake]
The dash, it’s digital, the schedule busy
My head in a hoodie, my shorty a goodie
My cousins are crazy, my Cousins like Boogie
Life is amazin’, it is what it should be
Been here for ten but I feel like a rookie
I tell her, “look up” ’cause it’s snowin’ in Tootsie’s
Booked for three years, now man can’t even book me
It’s me and Lil Baby, this shit goin’ crazy
Wheezy produced it and Weezy F made me
And she held it down, so she got a Mercedes
Young Money Records, the Army, the Navy
They ran me ten thousand, I threw it like Brady
The foreign is yellow like Tracee and KD
I trusted my niggas, they never betrayed me
Met all these niggas, they sweeter than Sadie
When I started out, I just took what they gave me
Did all the favors, they never repayed me
It worked in my favor, ’cause nobody saved me

[Chorus: Lil Baby]
Brand new whip got no keys
Ten on my clothes no starch, please
Soon as I nut, you can go and leave
Got M’s in the bank, like yes indeed

[Verse 2: Lil Baby]
Cartier glasses, I won’t even peek at you
Yellow Ferrari like Pikachu
I got ’em waiting and watching what he gon’ do
Tryna peep what I do, tryna steal my moves
Twenty five hundred for a new pair of tennis shoes
The same price, I could make them youngins come and finish you
Lawyer been charging, he Jewish like he voodoo
Best dope boy hundred thousand for the eagle
Presidential tints slide by, we don’t see you
I been getting money, I ain’t worry ’bout what he do
I’m getting money like I’m from the ’80s
Me and Drake ’bout to drop man, this shit gon’ go crazy
They know I’m the truth, coming straight from the basement
I’m straight as the street, man I come from the pavement
The millions and hundreds make em go crazy
Wah wah wah, bitch I’m Lil Baby

[Chorus: Lil Baby]
Brand no whip got no keys
Ten on my clothes no starch, please
Soon as I nut, you can go and leave
Got M’s in the bank, like yes indeed

[Post-Chorus: Lil Baby]
Me and my dogs going all the way
When you living like this, they supposed to hate

[Chorus: Lil Baby]
Brand no whip got no keys
Ten on my clothes no starch, please
Soon as I nut, you can go and leave
Got M’s in the bank, like yes indeed

[Post-Chorus: Lil Baby]
Me and my dogs going all the way
When you living like this, they supposed to hate

[Outro: Future]
Wheezy out of here


DJ ESCO – Fuk Faces Lyrics


[Intro: Future]
Me and lil’ mama, we exchange the fuck faces
Pour the brown liquor up, made me go brazy
Coolin’ you down, you makin’ me win

[Bridge: Future]
Me and lil’ mama, we exchange the fuck faces
Pour the brown liquor up, made me go brazy
Jump in the Benz, turnin’ all 10
Coolin’ you down, you makin’ me win
Took her to Chanel, she lost her mind, went crazy
Introduced her to the real diamonds, no fugazy

[Verse 1: Future]
Chrome heart, clip, frame, that’s when you know you made it
Only way you drive it, if it’s turbo, baby
I get NBA money, KD
I can go 100 rounds, nigga, don’t play me
Designer all the way down, bitch, slay me
Automatic drip, AK me
Baddy, baddy, better than Janet Jackson
Feed ya racks, what ya expect?
Got Stella McCartney, down your back
Grey Poupon, thanks to the connect
Canary stones all on your neck
Tough man ’til morning, give me respect
Bendin’ it over, girl, I’m obsessed
Keepin’ me focused, I’m impressed

[Chorus: Future]
Wipin’ off your Louie V, bitch
Hermès on your feet, bitch
Dior on your sleeve, bitch
Red wine when you sleep, bitch
Wipin’ off your Louie V, bitch
Hermès on your feet, bitch
Dior on your sleeve, bitch
Red wine when you sleep

[Verse 2: Future]
I’m a motherfuckin’ king, what you expect?
Yeah, my Prada fanny pack is a pet
Get the bust down Patek like you Barti
I’ma spoil you like a brat, you a Barbie
Hermès on my elbows down to my knees, bitch
Look down at your stilettos, double C’s, bitch
Drivin’ a big B with the wings on your seat, bitch
Wanna be down on my team, can’t be a weak bitch
Gotta tell me all your secrets, can’t be sneaky, bitch
If you tired, drink tequila and get freaky, bitch
We woke up in the sky, G60
‘Fore you tell me a lie, we could fix this
Found too many diamonds to get seasick
Presidentials for my daughters and my nieces
Treated you just like family, that’s how I keep it
I’m a man of my word, meet me at the Four Seasons
Step your passport up, I pledge allegiance
Get your Visa paid for if it’s needed
I can’t see your ex-nigga, ain’t no reason
We all learn and we live and it’s needed

[Chorus]
Wipin’ off your Louie V, bitch
Hermès on your feet, bitch
Dior on your sleeve, bitch
Red wine when you sleep, bitch

[Outro]
Me and lil’ mama, we exchange the fuck faces
Pour the brown liquor up, made me go brazy


Skizzy Mars – American Dream Lyrics


[Chorus]
They gon’ let me in this club in these dirty vans
Clean money, I count stacks with these dirty hands
Do a show, copped a rack with my new advance
50 bands, 80, bands, 100 bands
I’m the American dream
We the American dream
New money, no class
Look at them

[Verse 1]
Look at them
Uh
How to make it in America
Real nigga, day one, ain’t a lot of us
Mom worked two jobs, it was hard for us
Me and sis made it out, now she proud of us
They ain’t teach me how to rap in those private schools
Wasn’t like my rich friends, had a lot to lose
Less money, less options, lot of rules
So when that first deal came it was opportune
And shawty got potential, I scout that
She say she in love, but I doubt that
Maybe it’s the drugs or the clout
I get love in the north, I get love in the south, yeah
Shawty claim she a feminist and her ex man feminine
God damn girl you know that he average
God damn girl you know I’m a savage

[Chorus]
They gon’ let me in this club in these dirty vans
Clean money, I count stacks with these dirty hands
Do a show, copped a rack with my new advance
50 bands, 80, bands, 100 bands
I’m the American dream
We the American dream
New money, no class
Look at them

[Verse 2]
New money
Now I’m in the Benz truck with a new honey
Yeah, they said I wouldn’t make it
I’m like, “You funny”
Laughing at my haters like, “You dummies”
The night is young, girl what can you do for me?
Six figures, five shows, big ballin’
Look, I’m very important
I took a break, had some things I had to get sorted
I might retire in my prime like I’m M. Jordan
Table dancing in South Hampton
Use the wine glasses for dirty fantas
We coolin’ out in the whip and I done damn near smashed every girl on my list
KD at the three, Djokovic with the racket
Phelps in the pool, I’m like Speith at the masters
God damn girl you know you a bad bitch
God damn girl you know I’m a savage

[Chorus]
They gon’ let me in this club in these dirty vans
Clean money, I count stacks with these dirty hands
Do a show, copped a rack with my new advance
50 bands, 80, bands, 100 bands
I’m the American dream
We the American dream
New money, no class
Look at them

[Bridge]
Another day in the U.S.A
Just another day in America
Kids from my hood look up to the drug dealers
The system set us up for failure
I just wanna make enough to pay dividends
Then invest in black businesses
They teach us to hate what we see in the mirror
But it can’t break our spirit

[Chorus]
They gon’ let me in this club in these dirty vans
Clean money, I count stacks with these dirty hands
Do a show, copped a rack with my new advance
50 bands, 80, bands, 100 bands
I’m the American dream
We the American dream
New money, no class
Look at them


G-Eazy – No Limit (Remix) (feat. A$AP Rocky, French Montana, Juicy J & Belly)


[Intro: Juicy J]
Yeah, hoe!
Yeah, hoe!
Yeah, hoe!
Yeah!

[Chorus: A$AP Rocky]
If I hit it one time, I’ma pipe her
If I hit it two times, then I like her
If I fuck three times, I’ma wife her
It ain’t safe for the black or the white girls
It ain’t safe, it ain’t safe, it ain’t safe, it ain’t safe
Tell your man pipe up, nigga, pipe up
Hunnit bands from the safe in your face, what’d you say?
Money dance, turn this shit into a nightclub

[Bridge: G-Eazy & French Montana]
Ayy, yeah, fuck with me and get some money
Yeah, ayy, fuck with me and get some money (Montana)
Ayy, yeah, fuck with me and get some money (G-Eazy, han!)
Ayy, yeah, fuck- skrt, skrt!

[Verse 1: French Montana]
Lighters up, steam out the roof (roof, roof)
Pipe up, spittin’ like grill need a tooth (tooth, tooth)
Turnt-Turnt up, yeah, I need Camila in the group (group, group)
Paper up, double pumpin’, big with the loot (loot, loot)
It ain’t safe, it ain’t safe
Million cash in a safe
Fresh vanilla by the case
Fuck the cuffs are in my brace
Reshi is the name, CB is the game
Let’s call the boys, call a couple planes
Ring on like a mason
Pussy wet, cash long, Kyrie with the mask on
Keep a hunnit, come and get some hunnits
Fuck with me and get some money
We don’t make it disappear, David Copperfield
Drop top on the Ville like a lobster tail
Talk best box free like [?]
Talk the best bitch for a happy meal

[Verse 2: G-Eazy]
Yeah, ayy, yeah
Fuck with me and get some money
Yeah, in Miami partying with Puffy, ayy
She want to fuck, I told her bring her buddy, ayy
Yeah, suck a- suck a dick or something
Yeah, what’s understood ain’t gotta be explained, ayy
Strippers at 11 keep me entertained
Money dance, money dance, just to make it rain
Yeah, third album, nothing was the same
It ain’t safe, it ain’t safe
A-$-A-P
I come from the bay where the Cudi say "Yee"
Touchdown in the town, I’m as big as KD
See NBA money, plant a fucking money tree
Diamonds, crystal geyser
Big body that 488’s wider
Pulling up like along came a spider
The fourth time I put a baby inside her

[Chorus: A$AP Rocky]
If I hit it one time, I’ma pipe her
If I hit it two times, then I like her
If I fuck three times, I’ma wife her
It ain’t safe for the black or the white girls
It ain’t safe, it ain’t safe, it ain’t safe, it ain’t safe
Tell your man pipe up, nigga, pipe up
Hunnit bands from the safe in your face, what’d you say?
Money dance, turn this shit into a nightclub

[Verse 3: Juicy J]
Slob on my knob, like corn on the cob
I break a bitch, like Chyna did Rob
Put a ho to work, like she went and got a job
Everybody hit man, welcome to the mob (Mafia!)
Pull up another whip or something, yeah a different one
Fuck up another VIP or something, I been killing ’em
Smoke another zip or something, [?]
Take another sip or some, I ain’t lit enough
It ain’t safe, it ain’t safe
Got them guns in my wraith
Got them ones everywhere, she got them buns in my face
I got girls on the pole, like they tryna win a race
Free that nigga Tay K, I just got another case
We get drugged up, and tear the club up
You too boring for the bitch, get your buns up
It ain’t safe, it ain’t safe
All these diamonds in the face
Fuck around and turn that bitch to Stevie Wonder
Yeah hoe!

[Bridge: Belly]
Fuck with B and get some money (Belly)
Fuck with B and get some money (It’s me)
Fuck with B and get some money
Uh, screaming "uhhh"

[Verse 4: Belly]
Master P
Baby that ass looking like a masterpiece
Used to open doors with a half a key
Fish scale by the whale, call it catch release
No limit to it, no limit
I’m still with the go-getters and the gorillas
Old paper got me dressed up like a dope dealer
Like a wholesale of money, smellin’ like a co-seller
It ain’t safe (no)
Check your bags on me, I don’t give a thang
Shoe box for my for my very first bank (hello)
I might pull up on your court with the tank (no limit!)

[Chorus: A$AP Rocky]
If I hit it one time, I’ma pipe her
If I hit it two times, then I like her
If I fuck three times, I’ma wife her
It ain’t safe for the black or the white girls
It ain’t safe, it ain’t safe, it ain’t safe, it ain’t safe
Tell your man pipe up, nigga, pipe up
Hunnit bands from the safe in your face, what’d you say?
Money dance, turn this shit into a nightclub

[Bridge: G-Eazy]
Ayy, yeah, fuck with me and get some money
Yeah, ayy, fuck with me and get some money
Ayy, yeah, fuck with me and get some money
Ayy, yeah, fuck with G and get some money


Drake – Free Smoke (More Life Album)


[Intro: Nai Palm]
Is it the strength of your feelings
Overthrowing your pain
Using you high to be reaching
And is it today that you will find your new release
And in your wake, ripple your sweet voice
And more chune for your head tops
So watch how you speak on my name, you know?

[Verse 1]
Yeah, I couldn’t get a bill paid
You couldn’t buy the real thing
I was stayin’ up at yo’ place
Tryin’ to figure out the whole thing
I saw people doin’ things
Almost gave up on the music thing
But we all so spoiled now
More life, more everything
Must have never had your phone tapped
All that yappin’ on the phone shit
You must really love the road life
All that never comin’ home shit

[Hook]
Free smoke, free smoke, aye!
Free smoke, free smoke, aye!
Free smoke, free smoke, aye!

[Verse 2]
Dom Rosé toast
Hidden Hills where I post
I start my day slow
Silk pajamas when I wake, though
Miraval to the face, though
I drunk text J-Lo
Old number, so it bounce back
Boi-1da got the bounce back
Used to get paid for shows and front-door money
Five, ten, twenties, hand sanitize after you count that
Me and Gibbo was about that
Eatin’ Applebee’s and Outback
Southwest, no first class
Hilton rooms, gotta double up
Writin’ our name on a double cup
We ain’t even have a tour bus
Girls wouldn’t even think of recordin’ me
I fall asleep in sororities
I had some different priorities
Weezy had all the authority
Women I like was ignorin’ me
Now they like, "Aren’t you adorable?"
I know the question rhetorical
I took the team plane from Oracle
Mama never used to cook much
Used to chef KD
Now me and Chef, KD
Bet on shots for twenty G’s
I brought the game to its knees
I make too much these days to ever say, "Poor me"
Where you at? I never see you

[Hook]
Free smoke, free smoke, aye!
Free smoke, free smoke, aye!
Free smoke, free smoke, aye!

[Verse 3]
Niggas moves so waste
Please come outside the house and show yourself
So I can say it to your face
It’s bound to happen, man, it’s gotta happen now
So let’s just get it out the way
Lot of niggas goin’ bad on me
Please, one at a time
I wanna move to Dubai
So I don’t never have to kick it with none of you guys
I didn’t listen to Hov on that old song
When he told me pay it no mind
I get more satisfaction outta goin’ at your head
And seein’ all of you die
And I seen a lot of you die

[Hook]
Free smoke, free smoke, aye!
Free smoke, free smoke, aye!
Free smoke, free smoke, aye!

[Verse 4]
Hidden Hills where I post, yeah
‘Ye already know, yeah
I’m the troublemaker in the neighborhood
Far as troublemakin’ goes, yeah
House party up the road, yeah
I’m not Kid ‘n Play
This kid doesn’t play about the flow, yeah
Y’all keep playin’ with your nose, yeah
You get high and do the most, yeah
How you let the kid fightin’
Ghost-writin’ rumors turn you to a ghost?
Oh, you niggas got jokes
Free smoke, free smoke

[Outro]
Baka
Yeah, we outchea
Ya don know, aye?
It’s a OVO ting, aye?
Ya don know, aye?
It’s a East Side ting, aye?
Ya don know, aye?
More life


Drake – Free Smoke lyrics


[Intro: Nai Palm]
Is it the strength of your feelings
Overthrowing your pain
Using you high to be reaching
And is it today that you will find your new release
And in your wake, ripple your sweet voice
And more chune for your head tops
So watch how you speak on my name, you know?

[Verse 1]
Yeah, I couldn’t get a bill paid
You couldn’t buy the real thing
I was stayin’ up at yo’ place
Tryin’ to figure out the whole thing
I saw people doin’ things
Almost gave up on the music thing
But we all so spoiled now
More life, more everything
Must have never had your phone tapped
All that yappin’ on the phone shit
You must really love the road life
All that never comin’ home shit

[Hook]
Free smoke, free smoke, aye!
Free smoke, free smoke, aye!
Free smoke, free smoke, aye!

[Verse 2]
Dom Rosé toast
Hidden Hills where I post
I start my day slow
Silk pajamas when I wake, though
Miraval to the face, though
I drunk text J-Lo
Old number, so it bounce back
Boi-1da got the bounce back
Used to get paid for shows and front-door money
Five, ten, twenties, hand sanitize after you count that
Me and Gibbo was about that
Eatin’ Applebee’s and Outback
Southwest, no first class
Hilton rooms, gotta double up
Writin’ our name on a double cup
We ain’t even have a tour bus
Girls wouldn’t even think of recordin’ me
I fall asleep in sororities
I had some different priorities
Weezy had all the authority
Women I like was ignorin’ me
Now they like, “Aren’t you adorable?”
I know the question rhetorical
I took the team plane from Oracle
Mama never used to cook much
Used to chef KD
Now me and Chef, KD
Bet on shots for twenty G’s
I brought the game to its knees
I make too much these days to ever say, “Poor me”
Where you at? I never see you

[Hook]
Free smoke, free smoke, aye!
Free smoke, free smoke, aye!
Free smoke, free smoke, aye!

[Verse 3]
Niggas moves so waste
Please come outside the house and show yourself
So I can say it to your face
It’s bound to happen, man, it’s gotta happen now
So let’s just get it out the way
Lot of niggas goin’ bad on me
Please, one at a time
I wanna move to Dubai
So I don’t never have to kick it with none of you guys
I didn’t listen to Hov on that old song
When he told me pay it no mind
I get more satisfaction outta goin’ at your head
And seein’ all of you die
And I seen a lot of you die

[Hook]
Free smoke, free smoke, aye!
Free smoke, free smoke, aye!
Free smoke, free smoke, aye!

[Verse 4]
Hidden Hills where I post, yeah
‘Ye already know, yeah
I’m the troublemaker in the neighborhood
Far as troublemakin’ goes, yeah
House party up the road, yeah
I’m not Kid ‘n Play
This kid doesn’t play about the flow, yeah
Y’all keep playin’ with your nose, yeah
You get high and do the most, yeah
How you let the kid fightin’
Ghost-writin’ rumors turn you to a ghost?
Oh, you niggas got jokes
Free smoke, free smoke

[Outro]
Baka
Yeah, we outchea
Ya don know, aye?
It’s a OVO ting, aye?
Ya don know, aye?
It’s a East Side ting, aye?
Ya don know, aye?
More life


Future – Draco


[Intro]
You better not raise your voice at me
You know I got a pimp degree
Pluto

[Chorus]
Draco season with the bookbag
Rat tat, got a little kick back
Hundreds on hundreds got a good batch
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back

[Verse 1]
Lamborghini doors when I left off
They done fucked around, got a nigga pissed off
Nice little thot got a stiff arm
Did the Heisman on the hoe got the stiff arm
Fuck up that body like Tyson or Holyfield
Woah whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa
A couple of pills and I got my soda filled
Woah whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa
Break out a sweat, I go head over heels for these mils
Woah whoa whoa whoa whoa
She thinks she the one but to me she ain’t nothing but a thrill
Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa
I’ve been drippin’ like a God, what else?
I been dodgin’ all the flies, what else?
I been fillin’ up garages, what else?
I gave her a French ménage, what else?
Close your eyes eyes eyes
I’m about to slide slide slide
Wonder why why why
I stay in the sky sky sky
Pink molly, let me dance with her
Freestylin’, let me dance with her
Sky Dweller, it was sentimental
Rose gold, it was sentimental

[Chorus]
Draco season with the bookbag
Rat tat, got a little kick back
Hundreds on hundreds, got a good batch
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back

[Verse 2]
Fuck up my bitch by the change
Want me to jump out the stage
I wanna jump in the air
You know the love ain’t fair
You killin’ then show us the proof
I already got the juice
Chain different colors like fruits
I like to hang out the roof
I got to train my bitches
I’m putting chains on my bitches
I’ll pull some chain on the snitches
I’m focused, I’m back on my mission
Flex on a nigga, no apologies
Molly Off-White done got to me
Playing hockey with the ice in the Major League
35 bitches at the St. Reg
Fall back shooter like KD
Back in the kitchen with the Curry
Pullin’ up wit Xan, can’t hurt me
Pineapple drink lookin’ syrupy
56 nights, I was dirty
Styrofoam cups servin’ patients
Heard you been talkin’ bout the kid
Knowin’ damn well that’s a flagrant (technical)
I cancel two bitches
I got me some new bitches
Come check out how I’m living
I got me some new drippy
I got me some new drip!
She ain’t got nothing to do with it
I’ll give my bitch to you
If that what she mean to you

[Chorus]
Draco season with the bookbag
Rat tat, got a little kick back
Hundreds on hundreds, got a good batch
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
Draco season with the bookbag
Rat tat, got a little kick back
Hundreds on hundreds, got a good batch
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back

[Verse 3]
Yeah I’m cruisin’ in the deep
I’m twisted up, I got geeked
Misbehaving with ya freak
Can’t tell she got teeth
I was in her mouth like veneers
Stop comparing my career
Designer flooded through the crib
Business furniture for real
Bought a Fendi couch for my kids
They just want to plug a nigga wig
Charge a half a mil for the gig
Middle fingers up, fuck the pigs
Diamonds fallin’ off me, let me jig
Never falling off and never quit
I retired cookin’ up a brick
Certified nigga out the six
Who was wrapping dummies in the zone
I was chargin’ 10 for the strong
Keep on goin’ in on this song
Keep an F&N at your home
Lesson learned and we moving on
I got Firm niggas, Al Capone
Got my Chi niggas on the horn
Downtown Atlanta I was born


Future – Draco (On Jimmy Fallon) (Live)


[Intro]
You better not raise your voice at me
You know I got a pimp degree
Pluto

[Chorus]
Draco season with the bookbag
Rat tat, got a little kick back
Hundreds on hundreds got a good batch
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back

[Verse 1]
Lamborghini doors when I left off
They done fucked around, got a nigga pissed off
Nice little thot got a stiff arm
Did the Heisman on the hoe got the stiff arm
Fuck up that body like Tyson or Holyfield
Woah whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa
A couple of pills and I got my soda filled
Woah whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa
Break out a sweat, I go head over heels for these mils
Woah whoa whoa whoa whoa
She thinks she the one but to me she ain’t nothing but a thrill
Whoa whoa whoa whoa whoa
I’ve been drippin’ like a God, what else?
I been dodgin’ all the flies, what else?
I been fillin’ up garages, what else?
I gave her a French ménage, what else?
Close your eyes eyes eyes
I’m about to slide slide slide
Wonder why why why
I stay in the sky sky sky
Pink molly, let me dance with her
Freestylin’, let me dance with her
Sky Dweller, it was sentimental
Rose gold, it was sentimental

[Chorus]
Draco season with the bookbag
Rat tat, got a little kick back
Hundreds on hundreds, got a good batch
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back

[Verse 2]
Fuck up my bitch by the change
Want me to jump out the stage
I wanna jump in the air
You know the love ain’t fair
You killin’ then show us the proof
I already got the juice
Chain different colors like fruits
I like to hang out the roof
I got to train my bitches
I’m putting chains on my bitches
I’ll pull some chain on the snitches
I’m focused, I’m back on my mission
Flex on a nigga, no apologies
Molly Off-White done got to me
Playing hockey with the ice in the Major League
35 bitches at the St. Reg
Fall back shooter like KD
Back in the kitchen with the Curry
Pullin’ up wit Xan, can’t hurt me
Pineapple drink lookin’ syrupy
56 nights, I was dirty
Styrofoam cups servin’ patients
Heard you been talkin’ bout the kid
Knowin’ damn well that’s a flagrant (technical)
I cancel two bitches
I got me some new bitches
Come check out how I’m living
I got me some new drippy
I got me some new drip!
She ain’t got nothing to do with it
I’ll give my bitch to you
If that what she mean to you

[Chorus]
Draco season with the bookbag
Rat tat, got a little kick back
Hundreds on hundreds, got a good batch
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
Draco season with the bookbag
Rat tat, got a little kick back
Hundreds on hundreds, got a good batch
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back

[Verse 3]
Yeah I’m cruisin’ in the deep
I’m twisted up, I got geeked
Misbehaving with ya freak
Can’t tell she got teeth
I was in her mouth like veneers
Stop comparing my career
Designer flooded through the crib
Business furniture for real
Bought a Fendi couch for my kids
They just want to plug a nigga wig
Charge a half a mil for the gig
Middle fingers up, fuck the pigs
Diamonds fallin’ off me, let me jig
Never falling off and never quit
I retired cookin’ up a brick
Certified nigga out the six
Who was wrapping dummies in the zone
I was chargin’ 10 for the strong
Keep on goin’ in on this song
Keep an F&N at your home
Lesson learned and we moving on
I got Firm niggas, Al Capone
Got my Chi niggas on the horn
Downtown Atlanta I was born


FUTURE – Draco lyrics


You better not raise your voice at me
You know I got a pimp degree

Pluto

Draco season with the bookbag
Rat tat, got a little kick back
Hundreds on hundreds got a good batch
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back

Lamborgini doors but I never stop
Fuck around got a nigga pissed off
Nice little thot got stiff arm
Did the Heisman on the hoe got the stiff arm

Fuck up that body like Tyson or Holyfield wo wo wo wo wo
A Couple of pills and I got my soda filled wo wo wo wo wo

Break out a sweat I go head over heels for these meals wo wo wo wo wo wo
She thinks she the one but to me she ain’t nothing but a thrill wo wo wo wo wo

Ive been drippin like a god with her
I been dodging all the fly what else
I been fillin up garages what else
I gave her a French monage what else

Close your eyes eyes eyes
Im about to slide slide slide
Wonder why why why
I stay in the sky sky sky

Pink molly let me dance with her
Freestylin let me dance with her

Sky Dweller it was sentimental
Rose gold it was sentimental

Draco season with the bookbag
Rat tat, got a little kick back
Hundreds on hundreds got a good batch
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back

Fuck up my bitch by the change
Brought me from trap house to stage
I wanna jump in the air
You know the love ain’t fair

You killin then show us the proof
I already got the juice
Chain different colors like fruits
I like to hang out the roof

I got to train my bitches
Im putting chains on my bitches
Ill put some chain on some snitches
Im focused im back on my mission

Flex on a nigga no apologies
Matter how white done gotta me
Playing hockey with the ice in the major league
Thirty five bitches at the Saint Reg

Fall back shooter like KD
Back in the kitchen with the curry
Pourin up zan can’t hurt me
Pineapple drink lookin syruppy

Fifty six night I was 30
Stirofoam cups and patient
Heard you been talkin bout the kid
Knowing damn well that’s a flagrant

I cancel two bitches
I got me some new bitches
Come check out how I’m living
I got me some new drippin
I got me some new dripp
Ain’t got nothing to do with it
Ill give my bitch to you
If that what she mean to you

Draco season with the bookbag
Rat tat, got a little kick back
Hundreds on hundreds got a good batch
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back

Draco season with the bookbag
Rat tat, got a little kick back
Hundreds on hundreds got a good batch
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back

Yeah I cruising in the deep
Im twisted up I got geek
Misbehaving with ya freak
Can’t tell she got teeth

I was in her mouth like veneers
Start comparing my career
Cause I was flooding through the crib
Business furniture for real

I bought a Fendi couch for my kids
They just want to plug a nigga wig
Charge a half a mill for the gig
Middle fingers up fuck the pig
Diamonds fallin off my let me jig
Never falling off and never quit
I retired cookin up a brick
Certified nigga hot to six

Who was rapping diamonds in the zone
I was chargin 10 for the strong
Keep on goin in on this song
Keep an F&N at your home
Lesson learned and we moving on
I got firm niggas Al Capone
Got my Chi niggas on the horn
Downtown Atlanta I was born


Future – Draco (Future Album)


[Intro]
You better not raise your voice at me
You know I got a pimp degree
Pluto

[Hook]
Draco season with the bookbag
Backpack, got a little kick back
Hundreds on hundreds got a good batch
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back

[Verse 1]
Lamborghini doors, but I never stop
Fuck around got a nigga pissed off
Nice little thot got stiff arm
Did the Heisman on the hoe got the stiff arm
Fuck up that body like Tyson or Holyfield, wo wo wo wo wo
A Couple of pills and I got my soda filled, wo wo wo wo wo
Break out a sweat, I go head over heels for these meals, wo wo wo wo wo wo
She thinks she the one, but to me she ain’t nothing but a thrill wo wo wo wo wo
I’ve been drippin’ like a god with her
I been dodgin’ all the fly what else
I been fillin’ up garages what else
I gave her a French monage what else
Close your eyes eyes eyes
I’m about to slide slide slide
Wonder why why why
I stay in the sky sky sky
Pink Molly, let me dance with her
Freestylin’, let me dance with her
Sky Dweller, it was sentimental
Rose gold, it was sentimental

[Hook]
Draco season with the bookbag
Rat tat, got a little kick back
Hundreds on hundreds got a good batch
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back

[Verse 2]
Fuck up my bitch by the change
Brought me from trap house to stage
I wanna jump in the air
You know the love ain’t fair
You killin’ then show us the proof
I already got the juice
Chain different colors like fruits
I like to hang out the roof
I got to train my bitches
I’m putting chains on my bitches
I’ll put some chain on some snitches
I’m focused im back on my mission
Flex on a nigga no apologies
Molly all white, done gotta me
Playing hockey with the ice in the major league
Thirty five bitches at the Saint Reg
Fall back shooter like KD
Back in the kitchen with the curry
Pourin’ up xan can’t hurt me
Pineapple drink lookin syruppy
Fifty six night I was 30
Styrofoam cups same patient
Heard you been talkin’ bout the kid
Knowin’ damn well that’s a flagrant
I cancel two bitches
I got me some new bitches
Come check out how I’m living
I got me some new jewelry
I got me some new drip
Ain’t got nothing to do with it
I’ll give my bitch to you
If that what she mean to you

[Hook]
Draco season with the bookbag
Rat tat, got a little kick back
Hundreds on hundreds got a good batch
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
Draco season with the bookbag
Rat tat, got a little kick back
Hundreds on hundreds got a good batch
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back

[Verse 3]
Yeah I cruisin’ in the deep
Im twisted up I got geeked
Misbehaving with ya freak
Can’t tell she got teeth
I was in her mouth like veneers
Start comparing my career
Designer flooded through the crib
Business furniture for real
I bought a Fendi couch for my kids
They just want to plug a nigga wig
Charge a half a mil for the gig
Middle fingers up fuck the pigs
Diamonds fallin’ off my let me jig
Never falling off and never quit
I retired cookin’ up a brick
Certified nigga hot to six
Who was rapping diamonds in the zone
I was chargin’ 10 for the strong
Keep on goin’ in on this song
Keep an F&N at your home
Lesson learned and we moving on
I got firm niggas, Al Capone
Got my Chi niggas on the horn
Downtown Atlanta I was born


Future – Draco lyrics


You better not raise your voice at me
You know I got a pimp degree

Pluto

Draco season with the bookbag
Rat tat, got a little kick back
Hundreds on hundreds got a good batch
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back

Lamborgini doors but I never stop
Fuck around got a nigga pissed off
Nice little thot got stiff arm
Did the Heisman on the hoe got the stiff arm

Fuck up that body like Tyson or Holyfield wo wo wo wo wo
A Couple of pills and I got my soda filled wo wo wo wo wo

Break out a sweat I go head over heels for these meals wo wo wo wo wo wo
She thinks she the one but to me she ain’t nothing but a thrill wo wo wo wo wo

Ive been drippin like a god with her
I been dodging all the fly what else
I been fillin up garages what else
I gave her a French monage what else

Close your eyes eyes eyes
Im about to slide slide slide
Wonder why why why
I stay in the sky sky sky

Pink molly let me dance with her
Freestylin let me dance with her

Sky Dweller it was sentimental
Rose gold it was sentimental

Draco season with the bookbag
Rat tat, got a little kick back
Hundreds on hundreds got a good batch
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back

Fuck up my bitch by the change
Brought me from trap house to stage
I wanna jump in the air
You know the love ain’t fair

You killin then show us the proof
I already got the juice
Chain different colors like fruits
I like to hang out the roof

I got to train my bitches
Im putting chains on my bitches
Ill put some chain on some snitches
Im focused im back on my mission

Flex on a nigga no apologies
Matter how white done gotta me
Playing hockey with the ice in the major league
Thirty five bitches at the Saint Reg

Fall back shooter like KD
Back in the kitchen with the curry
Pourin up zan can’t hurt me
Pineapple drink lookin syruppy

Fifty six night I was 30
Stirofoam cups and patient
Heard you been talkin bout the kid
Knowing damn well that’s a flagrant

I cancel two bitches
I got me some new bitches
Come check out how I’m living
I got me some new drippin
I got me some new dripp
Ain’t got nothing to do with it
Ill give my bitch to you
If that what she mean to you

Draco season with the bookbag
Rat tat, got a little kick back
Hundreds on hundreds got a good batch
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back

Draco season with the bookbag
Rat tat, got a little kick back
Hundreds on hundreds got a good batch
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back
You ain’t never ever get you bitch back

Yeah I cruising in the deep
Im twisted up I got geek
Misbehaving with ya freak
Can’t tell she got teeth

I was in her mouth like veneers
Start comparing my career
Cause I was flooding through the crib
Business furniture for real

I bought a Fendi couch for my kids
They just want to plug a nigga wig
Charge a half a mill for the gig
Middle fingers up fuck the pig
Diamonds fallin off my let me jig
Never falling off and never quit
I retired cookin up a brick
Certified nigga hot to six

Who was rapping diamonds in the zone
I was chargin 10 for the strong
Keep on goin in on this song
Keep an F&N at your home
Lesson learned and we moving on
I got firm niggas Al Capone
Got my Chi niggas on the horn
Downtown Atlanta I was born


Jay Critch – Did It Again (feat. Rich The Kid)


[Hook: Jay Critch]
Came up on some bands
Balmain the sweater, Truey the pants
He did it again
Damn I did it again, damn that boy shitted again
Juuging again, that boy juuging again
Did he just hit another lick? damn
Did he just run off with your shit? damn
Did he just pull up in a whip? damn
Did he just fuck another bitch? yup
And she just did one hundred tricks, damn
She a freaky lil bitch
Smoking dope, hide the breeze out the whip
Hand full of grams, other hand full of them bands
Hand full of grams, other hand full of them bands

[Post-Hook: Jay Critch]
Wear the Balmain like a Nike Tech
I be ballin’ like Mike and them
I got two TECs like I fight the ref
Pussy boy know it’s on sight for him
Hand full of grams, other hand full of them bands
Hand full of grams, other hand full of them bands

[Post-Hook: Jay Critch]
Wear the Balmain like a Nike Tech
I be ballin’ like Mike and them
I got two TECs like I fight the ref
Pussy boy know it’s on sight for him
Hand full of grams, other hand full of them bands
Hand full of grams, other hand full of them bands

[Verse 1: Jay Critch]
I seen that cash from afar
I go to work for them bands, see the scars
My weed make you dance with the stars
Supersize my pockets, I’m living large
McQueen gold on the scarf
My shooters come out after dark
I been 730 from the start
It’s KD, yeah that young boy go hard
I came through it all in designer
These bitches on me like piranhas
My bitch a G, she’ll align ya
They like goddamn where you find her
Ass so fat gotta climb her
Ass so fat gotta climb her
I’ma fuck that girl then go rewind her
I got hoes poppin’ up like reminders
Niggas folding up like a binder
Ain’t no holding up, I’m on fire
I be ballin’ out, 49ers
I be boolin’ out like recliners
We gon’ shoot it out when we find ya
I’ma stack it up like a diner
I’ma stack it up like the diner
No I stack it up like the waffle house
With this ho we got nothing to talk about
I’ma hit it then tell her to walk it out
I wanna talk to this guap when I’m talking now
All my niggas keep yops and we walk around
All my niggas talkin’ them digits
Baby I talk it, I live it
How he ballin’, girl he moving his pivot
Told Vic pull up with some bitches
Got the Henny in my cup, got a couple lil sluts
They gon’ do it for the buzz
I know she gon’ give it up

[Hook: Jay Critch]
Came up on some bands
Balmain the sweater, Truey the pants
He did it again
Damn I did it again, damn that boy shitted again
Juuging again, that boy juuging again
Did he just hit another lick? damn
Did he just run off with your shit? damn
Did he just pull up in a whip? damn
Did he just fuck another bitch? yup
And she just did one hundred tricks, damn
She a freaky lil bitch
Smoking dope, hide the breeze out the whip
Bitch I’m smoking weed in the six
Some of my niggas bloods, some of ‘em crips

[Post-Hook: Jay Critch]
Wear the Balmain like a Nike check
I be ballin’ like Mike and them
I got two TECs like I fight the ref
Pussy boy know it’s on sight for him
Hand full of grams, other hand full of them bands
Hand full of grams, other hand full of them bands

[Verse 2: Rich The Kid]
Bitch I be ballin’ like Mike and them
Way too much Act, get a Sprite for him
Fuck her one time, bought the ho a Benz
I’m breaking her off, tell her bring her friends
Fuck up a check, I got plenty
You mad cause your pockets is empty
Brooklyn, pull up in a Bentley
She suckin’ me up and I bust on her titty
The roof went missing again
Racks on me, walk around with a ten
They hating on you, they don’t want you to win
Rich forever, we done did it again

[Hook: Jay Critch]
Came up on some bands
Balmain the sweater, Truey the pants
He did it again
Damn I did it again, damn that boy shitted again
Juuging again, that boy juuging again
Did he just hit another lick? damn
Did he just run off with your shit? damn
Did he just pull up in a whip? damn
Did he just fuck another bitch? yup
And she just did one hundred tricks, damn
She a freaky lil bitch
Smoking dope, hide the breeze out the whip
Bitch I’m smoking weed in the six
Some of my niggas bloods, some of ‘em crips

[Post-Hook: Jay Critch]
Wear the Balmain like a Nike check
I be ballin’ like Mike and them
I got two TECs like I fight the ref
Pussy boy know it’s on sight for him
Hand full of grams, other hand full of them bands
Hand full of grams, other hand full of them bands


P. Reign – Prescription Freestyle


[Verse]
Today I had to pinch myself to wake up, boy wake up
Be thankful that you got your weight up
Be thankful that the woman layin’ next to you is bad even without no makeup
Be thankful that her momma made her, yeah
I stare at that pretty bitch as I reminisce about [?] in a world that ain’t gimme none
Shoutout Kobe and the Lakers, I learn from my favorite players
Like never shoot the 3 when there’s a layup
Roy Jones Jr. taught me my left hook
Resilience from Westbrook, waiting to see what my brother KD and the chef cooked
Meanwhile I been cookin’ up, shit is finally lookin’ up
Don’t look down, ’cause being good ain’t good enough
When they hear us talk they say it feel like rap
I heard your new shit and all I thought was it sound like trash
Pussy is power, she got a nigga hooked like crack
And got an onion, wanna cry when you peel that back
Like this can’t be life I must be dreamin’
I wake up and hit the gym to exercise my demons
Nowadays these niggas switchin’ up just like the seasons
Reps Up, with a punishment that’s there for treason, they won’t even
This is for the ones who doubted
Fuck rapping I’m shoutin’, I’m boomin’, you bouncin’, now witness the movin’ of mountains
Always knew I had this shit to a science
Back when me, Drizzy and Voice, recorded at Bryan’s
Before we called Toronto the six, and Carty was the only nigga from the city puttin’ out hits
Had a list for all the shit I want when I get rich, boss
And this gon’ be the year that the lines get crossed, off
Fuck informants, fuck law enforcement, I wanna fuck four hoes and call it a quartet
Scar from my childhood, I’m scared of divorces
And ’cause of that reason I cannot be yours yet
I wanted to forfeit, I pray to the pulpit
I could of just lost it, I’m fucking exhausted
There’s no more loyalty, gotta be cautious
Not enough soldiers and too many bosses
I paid my part nigga, never been ashamed to say I love my dogs
So where’s your heart nigga? Been there, done that, still rollin’ like I’m on run flats
Minor setback are just setups for major comebacks
Talkin’ bout the six, boy, we built that city
I show the real niggas love, and I got that clearly
I’m slavin’ while you was hatin’ boy, we call that envy
Want that drop can’t stop ’till I cop that Bentley
Stay quiet, boy you livin’ out your broke down Chevy
Gotta lightweight with me but he hold that heavy
Comin’ from where’s [?] and the foes ain’t friendly
Handle like AI and shoot like Reggie
Who gon’ check me

[Outro]
Rather die than live the way you livin’
If we ride ’em ride, that’s on my chariot
Eye for an eye and I ain’t kiddin’
Put on a suit and tie and handle business
And way before Meek switched up I was the realest
In the city, my city still on my fitted
I just want a ménage with all my women
Just wanna touch the stars with all my niggas
And this could be yours, all yours, but you ain’t trippin’
They tryna knock me off, but I ain’t slippin’
All I know is how to get it, all we know is how to win it
Went and copped a Porsche, and wrote this for all my niggas


Did it again – Jay Critch feat. Rich the Kid lyrics


Lyrics Jay Critch – Did it again

Came up on some bands
Balmain the sweater, Truey the pants
He did it again
Damn I did it again, damn that boy shitted again
Juuging again, that boy juuging again
Did he just hit another lick? damn
Did he just run off with your shit? damn
Did he just pull up in a whip? damn
Did he just f*ck another b*tch? yup
And she just did one hundred tricks, damn
She a freaky lil b*tch
Smoking dope, hide the breeze out the whip
Hand full of grams, other hand full of them bands
Hand full of grams, other hand full of them bands.

Wear the Balmain like a Nike Tech
I be ballin’ like Mike and them
I got two TECs like I fight the ref
P*ssy boy know it’s on sight for him
Hand full of grams, other hand full of them bands
Hand full of grams, other hand full of them bands.

Wear the Balmain like a Nike Tech
I be ballin’ like Mike and them
I got two TECs like I fight the ref
P*ssy boy know it’s on sight for him
Hand full of grams, other hand full of them bands
Hand full of grams, other hand full of them bands.

I seen that cash from afar
I go to work for them bands, see the scars
My weed make you dance with the stars
Supersize my pockets, I’m living large
McQueen gold on the scarf
My shooters come out after dark
I been 730 from the start
It’s KD, yeah that young boy go hard
I came through it all in designer
These b*tches on me like piranhas
My b*tch a G, she’ll align ya
They like goddamn where you find her
Ass so fat gotta climb her
Ass so fat gotta climb her
I’ma f*ck that girl then go rewind her
I got hoes poppin’ up like reminders
Niggas folding up like a binder
Ain’t no holding up, I’m on fire
I be ballin’ out, 49ers
I be boolin’ out like recliners
We gon’ shoot it out when we find ya
I’ma stack it up like a diner
I’ma stack it up like the diner
No I stack it up like the waffle house
With this ho we got nothing to talk about
I’ma hit it then tell her to walk it out
I wanna talk to this guap when I’m talking now
All my niggas keep yops and we walk around
All my niggas talkin’ them digits
Baby I talk it, I live it
How he ballin’, girl he moving his pivot
Told Vic pull up with some b*tches
Got the Henny in my cup, got a couple lil sluts
They gon’ do it for the buzz
I know she gon’ give it up.

Came up on some bands
Balmain the sweater, Truey the pants
He did it again
Damn I did it again, damn that boy shitted again
Juuging again, that boy juuging again
Did he just hit another lick? damn
Did he just run off with your shit? damn
Did he just pull up in a whip? damn
Did he just f*ck another b*tch? yup
And she just did one hundred tricks, damn
She a freaky lil b*tch
Smoking dope, hide the breeze out the whip
B*tch I’m smoking weed in the six
Some of my niggas bloods, some of ‘em crips.

Wear the Balmain like a Nike check
I be ballin’ like Mike and them
I got two TECs like I fight the ref
P*ssy boy know it’s on sight for him
Hand full of grams, other hand full of them bands
Hand full of grams, other hand full of them bands.
B*tch I be ballin’ like Mike and them
Way too much Act, get a Sprite for him
F*ck her one time, bought the ho a Benz
I’m breaking her off, tell her bring her friends
F*ck up a check, I got plenty
You mad cause your pockets is empty
Brooklyn, pull up in a Bentley
She suckin’ me up and I bust on her titty
The roof went missing again
Racks on me, walk around with a ten
They hating on you, they don’t want you to win
Rich forever, we done did it again.

Came up on some bands
Balmain the sweater, Truey the pants
He did it again
Damn I did it again, damn that boy shitted again
Juuging again, that boy juuging again
Did he just hit another lick? damn
Did he just run off with your shit? damn
Did he just pull up in a whip? damn
Did he just f*ck another b*tch? yup
And she just did one hundred tricks, damn
She a freaky lil b*tch
Smoking dope, hide the breeze out the whip
b*tch I’m smoking weed in the six
Some of my niggas bloods, some of ‘em crips.

Wear the Balmain like a Nike check
I be ballin’ like Mike and them
I got two TECs like I fight the ref
Pussy boy know it’s on sight for him
Hand full of grams, other hand full of them bands
Hand full of grams, other hand full of them bandsss.
Jay Critch lyrics
Video again


Famous Dex – Shots Lyrics

October 25, 2016

Lyrics

Comments Off on Famous Dex – Shots Lyrics


[Hook: Famous Dex]
Girl lets take some shots
Man this shit will never stop
Bottle after bottle
Yeah,we do this shit a lot
Lets take some shots
This some liquor, ain’t no pop
Let’s call all your friends
And tell ya friends lets take some shots
Lets take some shots
All this liquor in my cup
Girl, grab ya cup and bring ya friend
Man lets turn up
Lets take some shots
Man this shit will never stop
Bottle after bottle
Yeah we do this shit alot
Lets take some shots

[Verse 1:Famous Dex]
Man, she wanna take some shots
Girl is you serious cuz this liquor ain’t no pop
She say so whattt
Pass me a double cup
She knocked it all back, now she want another shot
I say turn uppp
Now baby wanna fuck
Girl wait a minute
I just popped a pill, I say hold uppp
I call KD, what’s up
Broski drunk as fuck, he said
Dex im throwing up
I say hold up!!
Let me roll me up a blunt
I pull up in my trunk
I call KD, I say he up, he say for what?
Man, these bitches won’t shut up
Baby grab this cup and hit this blunt
[Hook: Famous Dex]
Girl lets take some shots
Man this shit will never stop
Bottle after bottle
Yeah,we do this shit a lot
Lets take some shots
This some liquor, ain’t no pop
Let’s call all your friends
And tell ya friends lets take some shots
Lets take some shots
All this liquor in my cup
Girl, grab ya cup and bring ya friend
Man lets turn up
Lets take some shots
Man this shit will never stop
Bottle after bottle
Yeah we do this shit alot

[Ayoo KD]
Take a shot for me
New dank shit, at the hotel
With a bad bitch
Me and Dex’s friends
Getting wasted
Lets party, lets turn up
Take mollys, lets burn up
I like a party, let’s have a party
Drink Bacardi at the after party
Pillow fights, let’s spend a body
Tryna fuck a bitch before the molly
She taking shots, she downed that
She pour away, she take it down
Her throat
She fucked up, want more
She all on the floor, she begging for more
We turning up, we turning up
We pouring up, we pouring up
We’re fucked up, we’re fucked up
Need more cups, need more cups
And Dex got the rollers
We finna get fucked up
And yo bitch she lucked up

[Hook: Famous Dex]
Girl lets take some shots
Man this shit will never stop
Bottle after bottle
Yeah,we do this shit a lot
Lets take some shots
This some liquor, ain’t no pop
Let’s call all your friends
And tell ya friends lets take some shots
Lets take some shots
All this liquor in my cup
Girl, grab ya cup and bring ya friend
Man lets turn up
Lets take some shots
Man this shit will never stop
Bottle after bottle
Yeah we do this shit alot