Tag: Staten Island

Lil Yachty – Freestyle on Funk Flex Lyrics

Nigga, free Reese, free Nino
The world is mine like I’m Al Pacino
Got more money than a lil’ casino
Got caught fuckin’ on a bitch and her boyfriend walked in wearin’ full Chinos
Hopped out the back door, ran a four flat
That was like way back
Nowadays I just sit and laugh
Chopstick long as one giraffe
And I’m comin’ through, clear the whole path
Walked in the damn spot, it was all… team of niggas, fuck the whole staff
Goddamn, nigga, too playa
Why you hate? ‘Cause I’m too rare
Young nigga, I’m a fresh prince, coulda bought a crib out in Bel Air
Fuckin’ on a bitch from Delaware
$30,000 on a new coat, call PETA up, gon’ and soak it in
Tag still hangin’ from it, had it for a year and I ain’t even broke it in
Diamond choker so tight, tried to lift it up, shit did not go over chin
In the studio with Migo gang, everything we make is propane
Call ten bitches from the Blue Flame
Fuck ’em all, we ain’t even know their name
Front row at the ball game
Who that is dunkin’? Shit, that’s what’s his name
I don’t even fuckin’ watch sports but my backyard like a golf course
Niggas hatin’, on my dick and shit, I got more guns than a task force
When I talk, my voice kinda high
Niggas hatin’ usually sound kinda hoarse
My ex-bitch is built like a horse, she was 27, I was 19
Shawty there was a real stallion
But I ain’t trust her, feel like shawty there was wildin’
Young nigga, bitch, I’m QC, you can see this shit through the gold medallion
After this I’m out to Staten Island, got a young bitch, she be really stallin’
My young nigga tote a dirty K, I call him Dirty Dan, he’ll flip your van
Kick your door hard as Jackie Chan
Take your chain right up off your nightstand, lil’ nigga

Cam’ron – Hello (feat. Don Q)

[Intro: Cam’ron]
Had to do this far my man, Murph

[Intro: Don Q]

[Intro: Cam’ron]
Rip Murph!

[Verse 1: Don Q]
Talking to lead, I’m one of the last few
Had to get my respect, it was past due
Through with my past, I just reminisce when I pass through
Moving them bags, tryin’ to get ’em flipped ’til my stash grew
Shooters that blast over the nonsense when the cash blue
Ask who? He was there when nobody actually cared
Real shit, had to share his kicks for half of the year
And now I take mine and I take his daughter shopping
Same nigga pull up to your door with the .40 knockin’
I got niggas quarter coppin’, coke in the water, lockin’
All they ever knew was hustle, cause they never saw an option
I’m hearin’ the sneak dissin’, I’m tryin’ to ignore the gossip
Third tape better be an earthquake before I drop it
I hear the hoes ponderin’, I got a cult followin’
Joe Carroll, I throw arrows into your soul hollerin’
I probably not the most known but I’m the most confident
The most relatable, no debatable, most dominant
I’m in need of a blessin’, I’m blowing weed to the heavens
Cause in my dream I was destined to see me speedin’ in 7s
When you look in the mirror, nigga, and see your reflection
Is you really or not? That’s the easiest question
I’m around OG’s, that was sellin’ ki’s out the Westin
Never leave ya protection, and never speak off confessions
Y’all niggas getting lost, when they only need a direction
Feel it when you look at his momma face, and see the aggression

[Hook: Cam’ron]
Aw man
Harlem World
High Bridge
Bronx, Queens
Staten Island
Aw man
My bad ladies
You gettin’ money?
You fuck with snitches?
Aw man

[Verse 2: Cam’ron]
He know killers, y’all know Killa
Fast cars, speed boats, all sorts of villas
Bad girls, jewelry, drive-bys, chinchillas
R-I-P to Mike but I’m the real Thriller
I’m done with that though
I ain’t beefin with the family man
Shit I’m still in the PJ’s like candy man
With dudes sellin’ whole halves of candy yams
Despite that the garage look like Candy Land
Candy painted, ain’t nothing about me tainted
Drove every car, you name it, look homie, come get acquainted
Can’t change it or rearrange it, disclaimer because I’m heinous
The 9 will make you famous, Blow! That’s for the plaintiff
The gun range no goggles, the targets they testin’ nozzles
The bullets they on point, them points you call hollows
In the club we get the bottles, we leave it we hit the throttle
Then pull up inside McDonald’s with porn stars and models
Look nigga you can’t erase me
Debate me, rape me, I’m Spacey
These bitches, they want my baby, nah baby, but you can taste me
The guns got no safety, in DC, for when they grazed me
And I ain’t been postin’ lately, y’all would really hate me
Yeah homie, it’s a blessin’, I’m here to answer the questions
I’m the OG Don Q was talkin about at the Westin
Yeah, yeah, baby let that molly rock
Niggas suckas, I’ma start sellin’ lolli pops

[Hook: Cam’ron]
Aw man
She sniffed a line
Damn that ass fat
Down south
West coast
Aw man
You gettin money?
You actin funny?
Hell no
Aw man

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