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Lyrics

Lute – Juggin’ Lyrics

Who be your people now? ‘Cause looking back, nobody was loyal enough to hold you down
It’s hard to stay afloat sometimes when niggas rather watch you drown
Cut off some people that I love like who gon’ save me now? Never seen a flower grow from mud, but I’m ten toes to ground
And all my life I repped that 7 but I’m dreamer bound
Somedays I feel like Will Smith when he play ‘7 Pounds’
Sacrifice myself to see some people smile
Now I play Lil Boosie wipe me down, when your bitch ass round cause I’m on
[Hook]
‘Cause we juggin’ out the hole in the wall
Mama used to tell me never get yourself involved
Still niggas last time I recall
So my daddy showed a nigga how to, how to
Jug up out the hole in the wall
Mama used to tell me never get yourself involved
Still niggas last time I recall
So my daddy showed a nigga how to, how to
Jug up out the hole in the wall
Mama used to tell me never get yourself involved
Still niggas last time I recall
So my daddy showed a nigga how to, how to
[Outro]
You see, my daddy showed a nigga how jug through the wall
f**k the law, we just tryna live good for the cause
‘Cause we sick and tired of being sick and tired on the low
Sick and tired of being sick and tired on the low
See, my daddy showed a nigga how jug through the wall
f**k the law, we just tryna live good for the cause
Sick and tired of being sick and tired on the low
(Sick and tired of being sick and tired on the low)
(Sick and tired of being sick and tired on the low) [Verse 1]
I used to bump Royal T on the way to my pops crib on the East
Glock .9 tucked ’cause ain’t no love in these streets
West side nigga like double Locs used to be
Unified nigga, that’s how it’s supposed to be
I am the keeper of my brother from another
Birth from the struggle, same goals, just divided by street codes
Streets cold, hope this heat up the soul
Reach for your goals like you reach for the stars
Uh, I weigh the odds like, nigga f**k the hand I was dealt
I’m just that nigga from the four that wanted more for himself
Went from big wheels to coupe de villes
From cap guns, now we shoot to live
Hope we survive ’cause tomorrow got to do it big
My nigga, Huggies ain’t cheap and my mama need a bigger crib (Hey Aye Hey Aye)
My nigga, Huggies ain’t cheap and my mama need a bigger crib
[Hook]
‘Cause we juggin’ out the hole in the wall
Mama used to tell me never get yourself involved
Still niggas last time I recall
So my daddy showed a nigga how to, how to
Jug up out the hole in the wall
Mama used to tell me never get yourself involved
Still niggas last time I recall
So my daddy showed a nigga how to, how to
Jug up out the hole in the wall
Mama used to tell me never get yourself involved
Still niggas last time I recall
So my daddy showed a nigga how to, how to
[Verse 2]
See, I remember days I felt like I ain’t exist
‘Specially with the thought of never amounting to shit
Can’t seem to see eye to eye
Intuition like f**k your problems
What’s a dollar to a mutha f**ka if he don’t make it out alive
Yo nigga, I gotta thrive, but that’s my only option
Can’t post a picture of my daughter without that “when you dropping” comment
That reassures that when I drop, it’s poppin’
Pinky promise to my daughter like it ain’t no stoppin’
Old school cutting corners like a nigga cropped it
.45 in the dash, pray I never cock it
I tried to drink it away, but I confront it instead
I’m never scared, let off a Kendrick ad-lib (Do-do-doo)
Tires tread ‘nother Kendrick ad-lib (Do-do-doo)
Bloodshed, hood wonder who them niggas with you
To keep it real, my circle small, can’t trust too many friends
Niggas leave you six feet under, the same street that you defend
Who was your niggas then?

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Lyrics

YG – Bottle Service Lyrics

What type of bitches is you fucking? [Interlude]
What kinda car you drivin’, nigga? Nigga, that’s your motherfucking homeboy’s section, nigga
Talkin’ all that shit with a G-Shock on
Got your phone out, recordin’ like a bitch, nigga, put your phone down
[Verse 4]
Came through with a hundred niggas with me, I’m a leader
If he say he about to shoot the shit up, you better believe him
I’m a dog, I’m a lion, I’m a fucking hyena
Got it out the mud, you can’t dirty ’cause you a diva
Lil’ Boosie in the speaker, so you know I don’t give no fucks
YG hit your bitch, I really hit it, wasn’t luck
The war cost money, nigga, get your dollars up
I’m buyin’ handguns, choppas and bulletproof trucks
Still standin’ ten years plus, I really do this
Pull your hair, hit it from the back, I really do this
Diamonds dancing, got these bitches jumpin’ to conclusions
“YG ain’t got a bag”, Bitch, is you stupid? Play this song
[Intro]
Mustard on the beat, ho
[Chorus]
I’m that nigga, that motherfucking nigga, nigga
I’m that nigga, that motherfucking nigga
My bitch that bitch, she that motherfucking bitch
She got her own shit, natural, pretty, slim thick
I’m that nigga, that motherfucking nigga, nigga
I’m that nigga, that motherfucking nigga
My bitch that bitch, she that motherfucking bitch
She got her own shit, natural, pretty, slim thick
[Verse 1]
You madder than a bitch ’cause a nigga glowed up
I’m in a Aventador, this is not a Lambo truck
I ain’t the only one lit, my whole clique run it up
You want a G for free? (What the fuck?)
[Interlude]
I’m tired of these broke ass niggas standin’ at the table
They wanna pull up and fuck with the bitches, but they ain’t buying no bottles
Nigga, buy some motherfucking bottles, you, broke ass nigga
[Verse 2]
I can’t stand a broke nigga, I can’t stand a broke bitch
Five bands, ain’t all-ones, I just threw a whole fit
I’ma whole boss nigga, I keep me a boss bitch
I write it down on paper, then I check it off the list
All day, I’m running plays, running plays, I’m running plays
Ain’t got time to clean the house, bitch, I got a maid
I came to make a movie, lil’ bitch, I think I’m Blade
I’m a movie star, tell the promoter I need a raise
I don’t talk in circles, no, this not a maze
I just fucked a bad bitch, ooh, I’m in a daze
No, I’m not a water boy, nigga, I’m in the game
Put some money on your head, twenty piece, chump change
Nigga
[Interlude]
Hell nah, hell nah, nigga, move the fuck out the motherfucking way
I’m tryna get to the niggas with the bag, I’m tryna get flewed out
And not like that, but you look like you ain’t flyin’ out shit, nigga
[Verse 3]
Pull up in a drop top, Uber, they ain’t even hot
She was a good girl, but I turned her to a thot
Right pocket is a knot, left pocket hold a Glock
You can the next 50, nigga, take these nine shots
You always got somethin’ bad to say, you a hater
You niggas penny pinching, man, I’m itching for that paper
I want a big crib, glass floors, elevator
I like that in-house pussy like Flava Flava
You in that baby mama Benz, that is not a stunt
You swear you doing somethin’, man, your head is corrupt
Get you a nigga like me, bitch, I’m what’s up
I just had to take her to brunch she let me fuck
[Interlude]
You talkin’ like you got the motherfucking check, but is you cuttin’ it? What the fuck? For free? I’m a top notch bitch and I like top notch shit
You better get your bag together, lil’ nigga

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Lyrics

Big Sean Reacts To Naya Rivera’s Arrest For Assaulting Husband

Big Sean has been singing “I told you so” all weekend after his ex-fiance Naya Rivera was arrested on Saturday.

The former “Glee” star was taken into custody over the weekend and charged with misdemeanor domestic battery after cops say she got into a fight with her husband Ryan Dorsey in Kanawha County, West Virginia. Dorsey, who is also an actor, called 911 late Saturday telling the dispatcher that he needs a police officer because his wife was out of control. “I just need a police officer. My wife’s out of control,” he said in the 911 call which TMZ obtained.

Big Sean, who was engaged to Naya Rivera, before calling off their wedding in 2014, reacted on Twitter in a super petty way by sharing an infamous video of Lil Boosie’s daughter in a car yelling, “I told y’all ni**as, I told y’all ni**as, Y’all thought I was playin’ but I told y’all!” The tweet received over a hundred thousand likes and thousands of retweets with fans commenting saying that Sean did dodge a bullet.

Big Sean famously released a diss track aimed at Naya Rivera titled “I Don’t F**k With You” featured on his Dark Sky Paradise album. “I mean for real, f**k how you feel / F**k your two cents if it ain’t goin’ towards the bill, yeah / And everyday I wake up celebratin’ sh*t, why? / ‘Cause I just dodged a bullet from a crazy b*tch, I,” the G.O.O.D. Music rapper raps.

pic.twitter.com/urDa4dGiaJ

— Sean Don (@BigSean) November 26, 2017

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Lyrics

Yo Gotti – Around the World Lyrics

[Intro: Children Singing]
Lala la la lala la la la
Lala la la lala la la la
Lala la la lala la la la
Lala la la lala la la la

[Chorus: Children & Yo Gotti]
I been ’round the world
Reppin’ where I’m from (where I’m from)
Right back to my hood
Right back to the slums
Right back to my hood
Right back to my, where I’m from
Right back to the Crest
I been ’round the world
Reppin’ where I’m from (where I’m from)
Right back to my trap
Right back to my slums

[Verse 1: Yo Gotti]
I just left Dubai
I just left Hawai’i
I just left, I just left NY
Headed to M-I-A, hey
I just left the bank
Headed to LA
I just left all my dogs a plate
Put ’em on a plane
Passport, I just left UK
Hustlin’ out the States
I got weight
Yah they call it freight
Hood call it yay, yay
I can prolly say that I ain’t never took the stand
My lil, Asian bitch she do my feet she from Japan (ayy)

[Chorus: Yo Gotti & Children]
I been ’round the world
Reppin’ where I’m from (where I’m from)
Right back to my hood
Right back to the slums
Right back to my hood
Right back to my gun
Right back to the Crest
Right back to my bunk

[Verse 2: Yo Gotti]
Where you from Gotti (Gotti)
Why your hoes exotic (why)
Why your car foreign (skrt skrt)
What your jewelry doin’ [?]
What your fashion be
Bitch why you askin’ me (huh)
‘Cause you a drug dealer
Why you look like fashion week
This outfit a half a brick and they come from Milan
I can’t rock no skinnies, it won’t hold my gun
I got a Chinese bitch a Chinese Uzi
Say her favorite rapper Lil Uzi
Told her I’ma put her on to Lil Boosie
Introduce her to the gangsta music

[Chorus: Yo Gotti]
I been ’round the world
Rappers and their drug life
2Pac, Outlawz, yah this Thug Life

[Chorus: Yo Gotti & Children]
I been ’round the world
Reppin’ where I’m from (where I’m from)
Right back to my hood
Right back to the slums
Right back to my hood
Right back to my gun
Right back to the Crest
Right back to my bunk

[Outro: Yo Gotti & Children]
Lala la la lala la la la
Lala la la lala la la la
Lala la la lala la la la
Lala la la lala la la la
I been ’round the world
Reppin’ where I’m from (where I’m from)
Right back to my hood
Right back to the slums
Right back to my hood
Right back to my gun
Right back to the Crest
Right back to my bunk

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Lyrics

Tyler The Creator – I Ain’t Got Time! (Scum Fuck Flower Boy Album)

[Intro: Shane Powers]
Right now we got some new music only here on Golf Radio!
(God I love this sample)
We’re going to dance
And exercise
And have some fun

[Chorus]
I ain’t got time for these niggas
Better throw a watch at the boy
Had my boys in this bitch, looking like a seminar
Who the fuck you talking to motherfucker?
Boy, I ain’t got time for these bitches
Better throw a clock at these hoes
Have these hoes in this bitch looking for a waterhose
Who the fuck you talking to, motherfucker?
Boy, I ain’t got time

[Verse 1]
Boy, I need a Kleenex
How I got this far? Boy, I can’t believe it
That I got this car, so I take the scenic
Passenger a white boy, look like River Phoenix
First… happy birthday!
You bitch ass nigga, yup I’m thirsty
Them little shots that you threw, they ain’t hurt me
I ain’t fuck with you bitch ass in the first place

[Chorus]
I ain’t got time for these niggas
Better throw a watch at the boy
Had my boys in this bitch, looking like a seminar
Who the fuck you talking to motherfucker?
Boy, I ain’t got time for these bitches
Better throw a clock at these hoes
Have these hoes in this bitch looking for a waterhose
Who the fuck you talking to, motherfucker?
Boy, I ain’t got time

[Verse 2]
Nat Turner would be so proud of me
‘Cause all these motherfuckers got they style from me
I bet they all looking from the crowd at me
And if I ask them, they would bow at me
But you’re a house nigga, so you don’t know
How that shit go, with my big lips and my big nose
And my big dick and my short hair
‘Cause you already know how slow my shit grow

[Bridge]
(Hey)
Tick tock
Tick tock
Tick tock
Tick tock

[Verse 3]
Been the man with a pickle plan, niggas know the dill
When I sell the carnival, I bet I get a 100 mil’
Next line will have ’em like "Woah"
I’ve been kissing white boys since 2004
One me, two feet, three mmms
Four, five, six years ago sucked
Seven figure conversations with Converse finalized
‘Cause Vans fucked up
I’ma read commas, you gon’ leave comments
Saying what I shoulda did, but you ain’t did nada
You ain’t important
I’ma keep sporting
All smiles over here
Shout out to The Garden
(Tick tock)
(And that’s a fact boy!)
And I just handle all my business like a chess board
(Tick tock, tick, tock)
And at them Golf boys?
That’s my motherfucking set, boy
Hard pill to swallow like some thick soda
Walk weird ’cause my pockets look like thick Yoda
With a Skywalker, riding ’round solar
Anakin skin Sprite, and my tint cola
I’m getting neck from a broad like some big shoulders
Till I bust like that 9 in ya heat holster
Everything I say is hot, bitch I speak toaster
And I break orthodox like I eat kosher
Shout out to (shhh) they gave a big loaf of
Green bread, got me chilling like a clean sofa
What’s that thick odor?
Young Millie T
A young, focused black boy, oh silly me
(I ain’t got time!)

[Verse 4]
Better talk shit
‘Cause I’m either in my Cons or my Golf shit
Pants got a lil flood, nigga pipe down
I’m Lil Boosie, Lil Boosie, way I wipe down
(Boy I ain’t got time!)
Yeah right now
‘Cause niggas dying every day and I ain’t light brown
And i-D ain’t wanna give a nigga no post
So I went and did a 12-page spread in Vogue
(Nigga I ain’t got time!)

[Outro]
Listen man, I’m that boy
All you little niggas clones
Boy I fill that void
You better kill that noise
Turn around and remap route
When they see that boy with them big ears and that gap tooth
Bitch
Tick, Tock
Tick, Tock
Tick, Tock
"Fuck… Hello"

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Lyrics

Tyler The Creator – I Ain’t Got Time!

[Intro: Shane Powers]
Right now we got some new music only here on Golf Radio
(God I love this sample)
We’re going to dance
And exercise
And have some fun

[Chorus]
I ain’t got time for these niggas
Better throw a watch at the boy
Had my boys in this bitch, lookin’ like a seminar
Who the fuck you talkin’ to muhfucka?
Boy I ain’t got time for these bitches
Better throw a clock at these hoes
Have these hoes in this bitch lookin’ for a waterhose
Who the fuck you talking to, muhfucka?
Boy I ain’t got time

[Verse 1]
Boy, I need a Kleenex
How I got this far? Boy, I can’t believe it
That I got this car, so I take the scenic
Passenger a white boy, look like River Phoenix
First, happy birthday
You bitch ass nigga, yup I’m thirsty
Them little shots that you threw, they ain’t hurt me
I ain’t fuck with you bitch ass in the first place

[Chorus]
I ain’t got time for these niggas
Better throw a watch at the boy
Had my boys in this bitch, lookin’ like a seminar
Who the fuck you talkin’ to muhfucka?
Boy I ain’t got time for these bitches
Better throw a clock at these hoes
Have these hoes in this bitch lookin’ for a waterhose
Who the fuck you talking to, muhfucka?
Boy I ain’t got time

[Verse 2]
Nat Turner would be so proud of me
‘Cause all these muhfuckas got they style from me
I bet they all looking from the crowd at me
And if I ask them, they would bow at me
But you’re a house nigga, so you don’t know
How that shit go, with my big lips and my big nose
And my big dick and my short hair
‘Cause you already know how slow my shit grow

[Bridge]
(Hey)
Tick tock
Tick tock
Tick tock
Tick tock

[Verse 3]
Been the man with a pickle plan, niggas know the deal
When I sell the carnival, I bet I get a 100 mil’
Next line will have ’em like "Woah"
I’ve been kissing white boys since 2004
One me, two feet, three mmms
Four, five, six years ago sucked
Seven figure conversations with Converse finalized
‘Cause Vans fucked up
I’ma read commas, you gon’ leave comments
Saying what I shoulda did, but you ain’t did nada
You ain’t important
I’ma keep sporting
All smiles over here
Shout out to The Garden
(Tick tock)
And that’s a fact boy
And I just handle all my business like a chess board
(Tick tock, tick, tock)
Watch ya neck boys, is that them Golf boys?
That’s my muthafuckin’ set, boy
Hard pill to swallow like some thick soda
Walk weird ’cause my pockets look like thick Yoda
With a Skywalker, riding ’round solar
Anakin skin Sprite, and my tint cola
I’m getting neck from a broad like some big shoulders
Till I bust like that 9 in ya heat holster
Everything I say is hot, bitch I speak toaster
And I break orthodox like I eat kosher
Shout out to (shhh) they gave a big loaf of
Green bread, got me chilling like a clean sofa
What’s that thick odor?
Young Millie T
A young, focused black boy, oh silly me
(I ain’t got time!)

[Verse 4]
Better talk shit
‘Cause I’m either in my Cons or my Golf shit
Pants got a lil flood, nigga pipe down
I’m Lil Boosie way I wipe down
(Boy I ain’t got time!)
Yeah right now
‘Cause niggas dying every day and I ain’t light brown
And i-D ain’t wanna give a nigga no post
So I went and did a 12-page spread in Vogue
(Nigga I ain’t got time!)

[Outro]
Listen man, I’m that boy
All you little niggas clones
Boy I fill that void
You better kill that noise
Turn around and remap route
When they see that boy with them big ears and that gap tooth
Tick, Tock
Tick, Tock
Tick, Tock
"Fuck… Hello"

Categories
Lyrics

Rick Ross – Trap Trap Trap (feat. Young Thug & Wale) (Rather You Than Me Album)

[Intro: Rick Ross]
Beep, beep
I’m sittin’ at the red light
My ankle monitor beepin’
Hadn’t been charged (fuck that)
I think I see the beeper (let’s bounce, man)
Mmm, bounce

[Chorus: Rick Ross]
I took my roof off at the red light
I took my roof off at the red light
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Brown bag legend ’cause it’s all cash
Brown bag legend when it’s all cash
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap

[Verse 1: Rick Ross]
First one on the block, woah, I need mine off the top, uh
Overtown, he got shot, but he died in Opa-locka
Couldn’t save one lung, hit ’em up, hmm, hmm
See the look on my face (woo!) like Carol City one state
Niggas hate on my sound, ’til I went the first round
Then I earnt the Lombardi, ain’t no fuckboys allowed
Only fuck if she exclusive, her favorite rapper Lil Boosie
To tell the truth I didn’t ask, when it come to bitches I’m Gucci
I’m the wrong one to rob, in the jungle I’m Nas
In the label I’m Russ, in the trap I’m Rick Ross
Double M, Goldman Sachs, just like Omar and Khloe
You came down for the packs, I sent you back loaded

[Chorus: Rick Ross & Young Thug]
I took my roof off at the red light
I took my roof off at the red light
I took my roof off at the red light
Roof off at the red light
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, sheesh
Brown bag legend ’cause it’s all cash
Brown bag legend when it’s all cash
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap

[Verse 2: Young Thug]
I was tryna bet the whole map
Out in Vegas, out the trap
Niggas talkin’ ’bout raidin’ the trap
Man, I’m ’bout to go ape in the trap (nigga goin’ ape shit)
Nigga, watch your babies in the trap
Nigga cookin’ oil base in the trap
Young nigga slave in the trap
Nigga run base, base in the trap
I’m ’bout to get this shit movin’, yeah
Answer the door with the Woolie, yeah
Wrist in the water, I need me a boat
I’m ’bout to get this shit cruisin’, yeah
Stand at the stove ’til you’re woozy, woozy
Let’s make a movie, movie, yeah
Move, move, move
Bitch, I’m richer than Tom Cruise, yeah
So many different meds on me
Fuck around, call the Fed on me
Chk-chk, boom boom boom your head, homie, reds
Draco got a lot of lead on it, you dead

[Chorus: Rick Ross]
I took my roof off at the red light
I took my roof off at the red light
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Brown bag legend ’cause it’s all cash
Brown bag legend when it’s all cash
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap

[Verse 3: Wale]
Yeah, Wale though, uh, uh
I ain’t nothin’ like the trap niggas, Goyard backpack nigga
Uber crates ’til the Feds pull up, woo woo, cataracts, nigga
I’m the type, holla at the wife
Her body yours, but her soul is mine
Adios, do a hundred 20
All she want is good dick and advice
Wraith, scrappin’ my tires, Jameson ’til I’m fried
Famous here but I’m humble, Double M the Empire
Renzel got me all day, I’m Kyrie, he LeBron James
Tired niggas say Folarin ain’t top
I’ve been SportsCenter every day
I ain’t nothin’ like them trap guys, I mean I kinda do bag dimes
I kinda never do back down, leave a nigga high via rap lines
Get a beat, leave it baptized, mob ties, but it’s black lives
Black lives, nigga, trap lives, gimme five on the black side

[Chorus: Rick Ross & Young Thug]
I took my roof off at the red light
I took my roof off at the red light
I took my roof off at the red light
Roof off at the red light
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, sheesh
Brown bag legend ’cause it’s all cash
Brown bag legend when it’s all cash
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap

Categories
Lyrics

Trap trap trap – Rick Ross feat. Young Thug lyrics

Lyrics Rick Ross – Trap trap trap

I took my roof off at the red light
I took my roof off at the red light
Trap trap trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap trap trap, trap, trap, trap
Brown bag legend ’cause it’s all cash
Brown bag legend when it’s all cash
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap.

First one on the block, woah
I need mine off the top, uh
Over town, he got shot
Muddy died in Opa-locka
Couldn’t save one lung
Hit ’em up, hmm, hmm
See the look on my face (woo!)
Like Carol City one state
Niggas hate on my sound
‘Til I went the first round
Then I earnt the Lombardi
Ain’t no f*ckboys allowed
Only f*ck if she exclusive
Her favorite rapper Lil Boosie
To tell the truth I didn’t ask
When it come to b*tches I’m Gucci
I’m the wrong one to rob
In the jungle I’m Nas
In the label I’m Russ
In the trap I’m Rick Ross
Double M, Goldman Sachs
Just like Omar and Khloe
You can’t dial for the packs
I sent you right back loaded.

I took my roof off at the red light
I took my roof off at the red light
I took my roof off at the red light
Roof off at the red light
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, sheesh
Brown bag legend ’cause it’s all cash
Brown bag legend when it’s all cash
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap.

I was tryna bet the whole map, Vegas, stay in the trap
Niggas talkin’ ’bout raidin’ the trap
Man I’m ’bout to go ape in the trap (nigga goin’ ape shit)
Nigga watch your babies in the trap
Nigga cook a whole base in the trap
Young nigga slave in the trap
Nigga run base, base in the trap
I’m ’bout to get this shit movin’, yeah
Answer the door with the Woolie, yeah
Wrist in the water, I need me a boat
I’m ’bout to get this shit cruisin’, yeah
Stand at the stove ’til you’re woozy, woozy
Let’s make a movie, movie, yeah
Movie, movie, movie versuri-lyrics.info
b*tch I’m richer than Tom Cruise, yeah
So many different meds on me
f*ck around, call the fed on me
Chk, boom boom boom your head, homie
Draco got a lot of lead on it
You dead.

I took my roof off at the red light
I took my roof off at the red light
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Brown bag legend ’cause it’s all cash
Brown bag legend when it’s all cash
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap.

Wale though
I ain’t nothin’ like the trap niggas
Goyard backpack nigga
Uber crates ’til the feds pull up
Woo woo, cataracts, nigga
I’m the type, holla at the wife
Her body yours, but her soul is mine
Adios, do a hundred 20
All she want is good d*ck and advice
Wraith, scrappin’ my tires
Jameson ’til I’m fried
Famous here but I’m humble
Double M the Empire
Renzel got me all day
Kyrie, he LeBron James
Tired niggas say Folarin ain’t top SportsCenter every day
I ain’t nothin’ like them trap guys
I mean I kinda do bag dimes
I kinda never do back down
Leave a nigga high via rap lines
Get a beat, leave it baptized
Mob ties, but it’s black lives
Black lives, nigga, trap lives
Gimme five on the black side.

I took my roof off at the red light
I took my roof off at the red light
I took my roof off at the red light
Roof off at the red light
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap
Trap trap trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap trap trap, trap, sheesh
Brown bag legend ’cause it’s all cash
Brown bag legend when it’s all cash
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trappp.
Rick Ross lyrics
Video Rick Ross

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Rick Ross – Trap Trap Trap (feat. Young Thug & Wale)

[Intro: Rick Ross]
Beep
Beep
I’m sittin’ at the red light
My ankle monitor beepin’
Hadn’t been charged
I think I see the beeper
Bounce

[Chorus: Rick Ross]
I took my roof off at the red light
I took my roof off at the red light
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Brown bag legend ’cause it’s all cash
Brown bag legend when it’s all cash
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap

[Verse 1: Rick Ross]
First one on the block, woah
I need mine off the top, uh
Over town, he got shot
Muddy died in [?]
Couldn’t save one Hummer
Hit ’em up, hmm, hmm
See the look on my face (woo!)
Like [?]
Niggas hate on my sound
‘Til I went the [?]
Then I earnt the Lombardi
Ain’t no fuckboys allowed
Only fuck if she exclusive
Her favorite rapper Lil Boosie
To tell the truth I didn’t ask
When it come to bitches I’m Gucci
I’m the wrong one to rob
In the jungle I’m Nas
In the label I’m Russ
In the trap I’m Rick Ross
Double M, Goldman Sachs
Just like Omar and Khloe
You can’t dial for the packs
I sent you right back loaded

[Chorus: Rick Ross & Young Thug]
I took my roof off at the red light
I took my roof off at the red light
I took my roof off at the red light
Roof off at the red light
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, sheesh
Brown bag legend ’cause it’s all cash
Brown bag legend when it’s all cash
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap

[Verse 2: Young Thug]
I was tryna bet the whole map, Vegas, stay in the trap
Niggas talkin’ ’bout raidin’ the trap
Man I’m ’bout to go ape in the trap (nigga goin’ ape shit)
Nigga watch your babies in the trap
Nigga cook a whole base in the trap
Young nigga slave in the trap
Nigga run base, base in the trap
I’m ’bout to get this shit movin’, yeah
Answer the door with the Woolie, yeah
Wrist in the water, I need me a boat
I’m ’bout to get this shit cruisin’, yeah
Stand at the store ’til you’re woozy, woozy
Let’s make a movie, movie, yeah
Movie, movie, movie
Bitch I’m richer than Tom Cruise, yeah
So many different meds on me
Fuck around, call the fed on me
Boom boom boom your head, homie
Draco got a lot of lead on it
You dead

[Chorus: Rick Ross]
I took my roof off at the red light
I took my roof off at the red light
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Brown bag legend ’cause it’s all cash
Brown bag legend when it’s all cash
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap

[Verse 3: Wale]
Wale though
I ain’t nothin’ like the trap niggas
Goyard backpack nigga
Uber crates ’til the feds pull up
Woo woo, cataracts, nigga
I’m the type, holla at the wife
Her body yours, but her soul is mine
Adios, do a hundred 20
All she want is good dick and advice
[?]
[?]
Famous here but I’m humble
Double M the empire
Renzel got me all day
Kyrie, he LeBron James
Tired niggas say Folarin [?] SportsCenter every day
I ain’t nothin’ like them trap guys
I mean I kinda do bag dimes
I kinda never do back down
Leave a nigga high via rap lines
Get a beat, leave it baptized
Mob ties, but it’s black lives
Black lives, nigga, trap lives
Gimme five on the black side

[Chorus: Rick Ross & Young Thug]
I took my roof off at the red light
I took my roof off at the red light
I took my roof off at the red light
Roof off at the red light
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, sheesh
Brown bag legend ’cause it’s all cash
Brown bag legend when it’s all cash
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap

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Lyrics

Kanye West – Freestyle 4 (The Life Of Pablo Album)

[Intro: Kanye West]
This that rap god shit nigga
I rip every one of these motherfuckers down
Aye, rah, rah, rah
Rah, rah

[Verse 1: Kanye West]
Close eyes, see things
Fire up, tweaking
You’re my freak dreams
You’re my freak dreams
Bad bitch, you dig that
Get stacks, drive cars
Whip out, bitch out
Tits out, oh shit
My dick out, can she suck it right now?
Fuck, can she fuck right now?
I done asked twice now
Can you bring your price down?
Lil Boosie with the wipe down
A little woozy but I’m nice now
What the fuck right now?
What the fuck right now?
What the, what the fuck right now?
What if we fuck right now?
What if we fucked right in the middle
Of this motherfuckin’ dinner table?
What if we just fucked at the Vogue party
Would we be the life of the whole party?
Shut down the whole party
Would everybody start fuckin’?
Would everybody start fuckin’?
Would everybody start fuckin’? They don’t want nothin’
You motherfuckers living like half of your level, half of your life
I smack her on her ass if she ghetto, I ain’t gon’ lie
We be in the bathroom fucking like baby don’t get too loud
I can, I can sing it, yeah

[Hook: Desiigner]
I want it right now
All of my niggas gon’ get it in Chi now
You get hit with the pie now
Rolls with killer money nigga get by now
Right now, right now
I’m with niggas that have been to your side now
Side now, side down