Tag: PJ

Lyrics

Future – TYCOON Lyrics

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date March 27, 2020

Play this song
[Intro]
Starin’ at the candle
Feel the pain on me, nigga, it don’t matter
Got my currency exchanged, got my bands up
(Wheezy outta here)
[Chorus]
I’m a ty-tycoon, that’s why they hate me
‘Till they throw the sheets on me I’m goin’ crazy
Got Balencis on my feet, they can’t take me
I know I ain’t gon’ be deceased ’til I’m like eighty
I been gettin’ so damn geeked, I been prayin’
I been chinchilla sheet wherever I’m stayin’
Took that Draco on the PJ, I ain’t playin’
I ain’t goin’, no, no, street’s dangerous
[Verse 1]
Ain’t got Activis, so fuck it, I had to red it
I sent hitters from everywhere, they had to dead it
You know my niggas, they bangin’ the same color as spaghetti
I got my transport up and I got my Getty
I’m gettin’ the passports stamped, we goin’ steady
They try to cut a nigga throat off with a machete
I know my lil’ bro’s gon’ kick the door in and let that lead hit
I’m not an imposer so I’m tryna find an exit
They know it’s a thousand cutters hittin’ off if they come for me
Uno gang, twenty-seven, they gon’ gun for me
ABK gon’ broad day, he go’n get it done for
I’ma big dog, they a lil’ son to me
[Chorus]
I’m a ty-tycoon, that’s why they hate me
‘Till they throw the sheets on me I’m goin’ crazy
Got Balencis on my feet, they can’t take me
I know I ain’t gon’ be deceased ’til I’m like eighty
I been gettin’ so damn geeked, I been prayin’
I been chinchilla sheet wherever I’m stayin’
Took that Draco on the PJ, I ain’t playin’
I ain’t goin’, no, no, street’s dangerous
[Verse 2]
Fully auto on the seat they let you take it
I ain’t going no, no, no, I’ma spray you
Let my dog’s off the leash, you gon’ hate it
Twin choppers on me, they my favorite, yeah, yeah
Catch me rollin’ in the Ghost, Patrick Swayze
Travelin’ all across the coast for this gravy
Buyin’ gold by the pound, I upgraded
I came from Lil Mexico, a nigga made it
Posted up outside the store I’m the greatest
If you can make it out the bricks thats amazing
I got my gang from out the 6, ain’t no tradin’
You know the side was two guns blazin’
[Chorus]
I’m a ty-tycoon, that’s why they hate me (I’m a ty-tycoon)
‘Till they throw the sheets on me I’m goin’ crazy (Throw the sheets on me)
Got Balencis on my feet, they can’t take me (Got Balencis on me)
I know I ain’t gon’ be deceased ’til I’m like eighty (Yeah, ain’t gon’ be deceased, no)
I been gettin’ so damn geeked, I been prayin’ (Yeah, I’m geeked, man, I’m geeked up)
I been chinchilla sheet wherever I’m stayin’ (Got my chinchilla sheets up)
Took that Draco on the PJ, I ain’t playin’ (Took the Draco on the P, whaddup)
I ain’t goin’, no, no, street’s dangerous (Goin’ no, no, street’s dangerous)
[Outro]
Yeah, ain’t goin’ no, no (Ain’t goin’, no, no), street’s dangerous (Trap)
Ain’t goin’, no, no
Yeah, what you do? I been chinchilla all of my sheet wherever I’m stayin’
I been gettin’ so damn geeked, I been prayin’
Took that Draco on the PJ, I ain’t playin’
I ain’t goin’, no, no (Ain’t goin’, ain’t goin’)
Starin’ at the candle
Feel the pain on me, nigga, it don’t matter
Get my currency exchange, got my bands up

Tags ABK, Patrick Swayze Travelin, PJ, Trap Ain

Lyrics

Future – Tricks on Me Lyrics

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date January 18, 2019
No Comments on Future – Tricks on Me Lyrics

[Intro]
Yeah
Just got a call from my mom
Tellin’ me what the lawyer was sayin’
About the lawsuit
I thought they had had that down, yeah

[Verse 1]
Big money shit, baby, I just bought a new six, baby
Flintstone in my ears, pissed on my wrist, baby
This song just mutilated, everything decapitated
Deep on new relations, just gotta be brand related
Ain’t no sellin’ out, no tradin’, so you gotta be gang related
Pop stylin’ this shit for my shottas incarcerated
Rockstar this shit, a street star, I stay in Quentin
Pop stylin’ this shit, how you get the high maintenance one?
How she gon’ take my love and give it away like it ain’t nothin’ to her?
How you gon’ judge my plugs, not take what I never did off of me?
Hawaiian surfin’ on the thick one to the PJ
I can just imagine the pain on Bankroll PJ
Murder murder, broad day, I got tears, I can’t let ’em out
I can’t take it, I can’t take it no more, I’m ’bout to spaz out
I’m good on deposits but I gotta have a stash house
I see you bein’ greedy and I gotta work my ass off
I chief on gas house, until I pass out
Rollin’ in a Phantom, came with an umbrella
Survive the trenches, it’s on me the day I walk through it
Here done came Pluto, I’ma drip all through it (Icy)
I was lettin’ the shit I can’t control destroy me
It was goin’ too deep for you, baby, pardon me
I tried to treat that shit just like a party
I’ma feel weak if I tell you sorry

[Pre-Chorus]
Gotta be a genius, gotta be extraordinary
Gotta plant seeds, nigga, like a florist
I’m Future Hendrix but I’m not a guitarist
I could’ve be starvin’, I’m fortunate

[Chorus]
Maybe my mind playin’ tricks on me
Maybe my mind playin’ tricks on me
Could it be my ex playin’ tricks on me?
Someone that’s jealous playin’ tricks on me
Big boss shit, baby, I just bought a new PJ
Butler came with the elevator, greet my guests, baby
iPad high maintenance, everything’s unordinary
Grapes and strawberries, nothing’s got temporary

[Verse 2]
Rockstar in this shit, like a popstar in this shit, yeah
Tryna forget the way they did to Bankroll Fresh, gettin’ harder
Seen his son at my little boy birthday party, it was harder
The streets of the ATL don’t respect nothin’ but shottas
Had to look the other way, could be the other way
Hit Yung Mazi up, that was in the broad day
I popped two Xans and I been sleep all day
(Let’s go, let’s go)

[Pre-Chorus]
I was lettin’ the shit I can’t control destroy me
Everything’s too deep for you, my nigga, pardon me
I’m Future Hendrix but I’m not a guitarist (Super)
I could’ve be starvin’, I’m fortunate

[Chorus]
Maybe my mind playin’ tricks on me (I’m so fuckin’ hurt)
Maybe my mind playin’ tricks on me (Maybe my mind)
Could it be my ex playin’ tricks on me?
Someone that’s jealous playin’ tricks on me (Someone that’s jealous, I know, I know)
Big boss shit, baby, I just bought a new PJ
Butler came with the elevator, greet my guests, baby
iPad high maintenance, everything’s unordinary
Grapes and strawberries, nothing’s got temporary

Tags ATL, Future Hendrix, Hit Yung Mazi, PJ

Lyrics

Quavo – LOSE IT lyrics

[Chorus: Quavo]
Yeah, she lookin’ like a movie, yeah (Woo, bad, yeah)
I think that I’ma choose her, yeah (Choose her, hoo, yeah)
Back that ass up, no Juvie, yeah (Juvie, hoo, yeah)
Throw them racks, go stupid, yeah (Racks, stupid, yeah)
Squeeze my shot like Uzis, yeah (Shoot, Uzi, yeah)
When I slide on her, yeah (Skrrt, slide, yeah)
Heard she wet, Jacuzzi, yeah (Splash, wet, yeah)
Make me go, make me go, make me go lose it (Go, lose it)

[Verse 1: Quavo]
Bought her Chanel, surprise on her, yeah (Chanel, yeah)
She so bad, got girls and guys on her (Yeah)
Make me wanna pull out the phone and go live on her, yeah (Yeah)
But I snap back and close my eyes on her (Damn, yeah)
Bad bitch, she bring a team of girls (Damn, yeah)
They all came back after the club (Woo, yeah)
Every city I go, they show me love (Show, yeah)
That’s because we (What?) real thugs (Yeah)
Bet that ice make her drown in the tub (Ice)
Say she got that bag, told her put down on the drugs (Bag)
That the type of shit that make your nigga call in (Brr, woo)
That the type of shit that make your nigga fall in love (Woo)

[Verse 2: Lil Baby]
Pull up, I’m the life of the party
4×4 truck sittin’ on Forgis
488 with a 8, that’s shawty
Lime Lamborghini sittin’ pretty, that’s Cardi
Blue Lamborghini Diablo, gon’ Offset’s
Havin’ talks in the Wraith, ’bout to take off
Me and Pee in the Dawn havin’ boss talks
Got the game from, bruh, that’s where I walk
What am I gonna do when all these girls
In the city goin’ crazy over me?
Take the tints off the car so they can see me
Slick, intimidatin’, niggas wanna be me
PJ when we creepin’, they won’t ever see me
Ain’t too into cameras, but they got to see me
Diamonds on my fingers, I’m a superstar
All in there like sneakin’ with a superstar
Hit me if you want, I’m not gonna make a call
Marlo’s still trappin’ in them trap house
Cartier, solitaire, golf ball
Real big dog, I won’t fuck with y’all
Made it to the charts, they know who I am
Shout out to my fans, really fuck with y’all
Internet beef, I won’t get involved
If it’s real problems, then it’s gettin’ solved
Yeah, yeah

[Verse 3: Quavo]
When I say (Lose it)
She gonna make a nigga lose it
I’m talkin’ big money
Big money, thumb throughin’ it (Hey)
Not through with it (Nah, nah)
Not through with it (Nah)
She all on the phone with her last nigga
Say that pussy is mine, he losin’ it (Brrt, yeah)
She poppin’ it, I’m ownin’ it (Yeah)
She droppin’ it, it’s stoppin’ it (Stop), lose it (Yeah)
Out of control, she movin’ it (Ooh, yeah)
It’s movin’ (Woo)
It’s a movie (Woo)
She walkin’ around in Nike leggings (Ooh, yeah)
Just doin’ it (Go!)
Don’t get involved with her besties, they messy
Spent a fifty ball on her neckpiece, she flexing
I don’t give no calls, I just hit her with the texting
Emoji all drippin’, leakin’ waterfalls, yeah

Tags Blue Lamborghini Diablo, Lime Lamborghini, PJ

Lyrics

Roy Woods – Russian Cream Lyrics

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date June 9, 2018
No Comments on Roy Woods – Russian Cream Lyrics

[Intro]
A man like PJ
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
Ooh, ooh, ooh, ooh
Too much muhfuckin’ goin’ on
The warm up

[Verse 1]
I don’t need a bitch, all I see while makin’ dolla signs
Rollie on my wrist but I never check it for the time
Said she heard the kid through the boy in the summertime
Said she love my songs that I got with Ty Dolla Sign
When I’m in LA I’m fuckin’ shorties from Corona
Look me in my eyes say you love me but you love to lie
I can make a hit on four beach cali time
Niggas copy sauce, claim it’s theirs, happens all the time
I be switchin’ up on these niggas, like my bitch does
18 karat, VVS is on your S1s
I don’t put no thought into a thot, that’s a waste of time
Flying bitches out of the city, come and shoot to mine

[Chorus]
Bought my bitch a new Gucci bag, yeah, yeah (Gucci, Gucci)
Only fuck with bitches gettin’ bags, yeah, yeah
Russian creamy gyal, creamy gyal, yeah, yeah
Shorty scared of the wasteman, yeah, yeah

Bought my bitch a new Gucci bag, yeah, yeah (Gucci, Gucci)
Only fuck with bitches gettin’ bags, yeah, yeah
Russian creamy gyal, creamy gyal, yeah, yeah
Shorty scared of the wasteman, yeah, yeah

[Verse 2]
Yeah, yeah
You don’t know your bitches but I know ’em (I don’t mind, yeah)
Shorty finna hit me on my trap (on my trap, trap, trap, trap)
She gon’ give me top playin’ Fortnite (give me top, woah)
Shorty wanna fuck I need more time, yeah
Gettin’ the bands, gettin’ the digits
Bitch [?]
Gucci my linen (yeah that’s good right there)
Will Smith, I’m a legend
R&B John Lennon
Rap and I sing to women
Bought my whip with the key, flyin’ when you finish
Pussy with the Hennessy for the real niggas
Smokin’ blunt, sip the Henny with some real niggas

Bought my bitch a new Gucci bag, yeah, yeah (Gucci, Gucci)
Only fuck with bitches gettin’ bags, yeah, yeah
Russian creamy gyal, creamy gyal, yeah, yeah
Shorty scared of the wasteman, yeah, yeah

Tags PJ, Ty Dolla Sign, VVS

Lyrics

HUNCHO JACK, Travis Scott & Quavo – Saint lyrics

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date May 29, 2018
No Comments on HUNCHO JACK, Travis Scott & Quavo – Saint lyrics

[Intro: Travis Scott]
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah
Murda on the beat, so it’s not nice

[Chorus: Travis Scott]
Yeah, mama built a saint (saint, yeah)
Yeah, countin’ up the O’s, I thank (thank, alright)
Yeah, lookin’ at the O’s I drank (aw, it’s lit)
You can’t see that on the road, I blank
Yeah, mama built a saint (saint, yeah)
Yeah, countin’ up the O’s, I thank (thank, alright)
Yeah, lookin’ at the O’s I drank (aw, it’s lit)
You can’t see that on the road, I blank

[Verse 1: Quavo]
(Huncho)
What I bought (what you buy?)
I’m just lookin’ at this mansion I bought (straight cash)
It just came with fifteen rooms and a vault (fifteen)
Ocean in the back, top floor a loft (woo), ayy
We gonna slide today (we gonna slide, slide, slide)
She drowning, swim in the Ace
Mob ties, no lace, putting young niggas in place (mob ties)
Remember back then I finessed on my face (finesse)
JanSport book bag and a throwaway (gone)

[Verse 2: Travis Scott & Quavo]
Nah, lit ain’t lit for me, yeah, yeah
A four in Brisk, that’s my cup of tea, yeah
Look behind the blinds, nobody can see, yeah
Collect the platinum hits like they jewelry, yeah
I might charge you fifty thousand for the sauce (sauce and drip)
Ace Ventura, Marino, I play with dolphins (dolphins, splash)
Count up the deads, no coffin (coffins, deads)
Pullin’ out that fire, out that arson
A lot of jelly on this PJ, made it say 4K (yah)
You niggas ’round runnin’ down my juice, I ran it back, OJ (it’s lit)
Rubber bands make ’em twerk, diamonds make ’em twerk (pop it, pop it)
Out in LIV every Sunday like you goin’ to church
Fuck wrong with these niggas? (ooh)

[Chorus: Travis Scott]
Yeah, mama built a saint (saint, yeah!)
Yeah, countin’ up the O’s, I thank (thank, alright!)
Yeah, lookin’ at the O’s I drank (aw, it’s lit!)
You can’t see that on the road, I blank

Tags Ace Ventura, OJ, PJ

Lyrics

ASAP Ferg – Moon River lyrics

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date May 19, 2018
No Comments on ASAP Ferg – Moon River lyrics

Moon river
Wider than a mile
I’m crossing you in style
Someday
Oh dream maker

[Verse 1: A$AP Ferg & (Elle Fanning)]
I ain’t window shopping today
(Heartbreaker)
I got a feeling today
Uh, yeah
How you feeling?
Ferg in the building
Tiffany grills with the all gold filling
[?] I’ma stack it to the ceiling
Only do it for the children
Teach you how to make a million, ayy
Tiffany for the breakfast
[?] what a plate for the necklace
(Dream maker, you heartbreaker)

[Verse 2: A$AP Ferg]
*Down*
Moo-moo-moo-moon river wrist
T-Square ring
Room full of glis
Blue give me kiss
In a pool full of Cris
Canary on a finger
(Moon river)
Don’t drool on my drip
How you feeling?
*Hey*
I’m feeling great
(Dream maker)
Got Elle on a block on a crate
I tell them bring all my jewels to the PJ
Believe in love and your dreams will come easy
Easy, easy, easy

[Outro: Elle Fanning]
My Huckleberry friend
Moon river and me

Tags PJ

Lyrics

DJ Esco – Chek (feat. Future)

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date April 7, 2018
No Comments on DJ Esco – Chek (feat. Future)

[Intro]
Pluto
If young Metro don’t trust you, I’m gon’ shoot you

[Verse 1]
I put a pool on top of the penthouse
You can see me now
I’m still high from the day before
‘Bout to re-up now
Nigga was broke some years ago
Fuck around, lose a cap
Had the stewardess on the PJ
And she chewed me out
I was always in some shit
Nigga, look at me now
These bitches will have me lookin’ bad
Tryna air me out
Then I gave that bitch some cash
Over a fair amount
Ain’t gon’ never trust a bitch
Who can’t close they mouth

[Chorus]
I get to these racks consistently
Who gon’ stop me now?
They keep talkin’, talkin’ ’bout drugs
‘Bout to pop one now
I just cashed out on two-door Maybach
Who talkin’ now?
I just fucked up me a check
Bitch, I’m ballin’ out
I just fucked up me a check
Bitch, I’m ballin’ out
I just fucked up me a check
Bitch, I’m ballin’ out
I just fucked up me a check
I just fucked up me a check

[Verse 2]
They keep talkin’ ’bout, talkin’ ’bout racks
‘Bout to pop one now
Most of these niggas all whack
They ’bout to get knocked off now
I done went way past the quota
Shit, I lost account, yeah
Pulled up, turbo on a motor
It was unannounced
Make the Forbes’ once again
The talk of the town
I got Snow White on the seat
Shit, I’m droppin’ it down
I put good dope on this beat
I’m ’bout to take some now
They keep talkin’ ’bout, talkin’ ’bout jewelry
‘Bout to buy some now

[Verse 3]
Get, get your money, get your weight up
Just like a shark, dog get ate up
I been told, another demeanor
I been frozen, another demeanor
Got more lights than a arena
Hit ’em on sight for the subpoena
Pull, pull up [?]
What’s the total? You can keep the receipt
I can dap up Curry sittin’ in my seat, yeah
I give her allowance three times a week, yeah
I’m out your league, yeah

Tags PJ, Snow White

Lyrics

DJ ESCO – Chek Lyrics

[Intro]
Pluto
If young Metro don’t trust you, I’m gon’ shoot you

[Verse 1]
I put a pool on top of the penthouse
You can see me now
I’m still high from the day before
‘Bout to re-up now
Nigga was broke some years ago
Fuck around, lose a cap
Had this lil bitch on a PJ
And she chewed me out
I was always in some shit
Nigga, look at me now
These bitches will have me lookin’ bad
Tryna air me out
Then I gave that bitch some cash
Over a fair amount
Ain’t gon’ never trust a bitch
Who can’t close they mouth

Tags PJ, Snow White

Lyrics

Eric Bellinger – Ain’t Ya Ex lyrics

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date March 25, 2018
No Comments on Eric Bellinger – Ain’t Ya Ex lyrics

[Intro: Eric Bellinger]
Aw yeah, oh
Player sh*t only, yeah, yeah, yeah
This gon’ be your favorite song
(Hol’ up, hol’ up)

[Verse 1: Eric Bellinger]
I’ma have to call you
You might have to fall through, yeah
I might just need all of you
Can you give me all you? Yeah
Baby, I’m the one for you, yeah
All I got is love for you
I might put my tongue on you
I wanna eat some of you, yeah

[Chorus: Eric Bellinger]
Said I ain’t nothin’ like yo ex nigga, yeah
Uplift and bench-press, nigga, yeah
Said, I’m a young, rich, blessed, nigga, yeah
I’m a famous like Dex nigga, yeah
She said I remind her of her ex-nigga, yeah
Said, boy you only want the sex, nigga, yeah
But I’ma call, not text nigga
I’ma put you in a ring and white dress nigga, yeah
I ain’t your ex-nigga, ex-nigga, ex-nigga, yeah
I love my other hoes, they pressed, nigga
Ex-nigga, I ain’t you ex-nigga, yeah
Said, I ain’t nothin’ like your ex-nigga
Ain’t your ex, your, ain’t your ex, yeah, yeah, yeah
Ain’t your ex, oh, ain’t your ex (It’s Eazy)

[Verse 2: Mila J]
Mila to the rescue (Mila, Mila)
I’m about my checks too (Hold up, Mila)
I’m a goddess so I can bless you (Bless you)
If you’re lucky, I might sex you
First, I gotta know, boy, what that head do? (Oh yeah)
I’ma send a pic to test you (Oh yeah)
I know, I impress you (Oh yeah)
So shoot that PJ, need my leg room
Baby, I ain’t nothing like your ex-bitch (Ain’t your ex)
Let’s get this sh*t established (Ain’t your ex)
Hella fatter that a bad bitch (Ain’t your ex)
Plus, my booty real, come grab it

[Chorus: Eric Bellinger & (Mila J)]
Girl, I ain’t nothin’ like yo ex nigga, oh no no
Uplift and bench-press, nigga, yeah
Said, I’m a young, rich, blessed, nigga
I’ma put you in a ring and white dress nigga
I’ma put you in a ring and white dress nigga
I ain’t your ex-nigga (ex), ex-nigga (ex), ex-nigga
Yeah (ex)
I love my other hoes, they pressed, nigga, yeah (ooh, ex)
Ex-nigga (ex), I ain’t you ex-nigga
Said, I ain’t nothin’ like your ex-nigga

[Verse 3: Tink]
I got this message for my next love
Hope you ain’t as messy as my ex was
Words don’t mean a thing, words don’t mean a thing
You gon’ break my heart, then tell me I changed
Like my ex-nigga
I always swear, I’m freaking on the next nigga
Don’t be like my ex, nigga
I’m gon’ leave you lonely for a day
What you tryna say?
‘Cause words don’t mean a thing
Fuck a car, baby, pull up (Pull up, pull up, pull up)
Right now, right now, yeah
I just wanna roll with you
[??] before the [??]
You know what he put me through

[Chorus: Eric Bellinger & (Mila J)]
Girl, I ain’t nothin’ like yo ex nigga, oh no no no
Uplift and bench-press, nigga, yeah
(I’ma young) Said, I’m a young, rich, blessed, nigga
I’ma put you in a ring and white dress nigga, yeah
I ain’t your ex-nigga (ex), ex-nigga (ex), ex-nigga (ex)
I love my other hoes, they pressed, nigga (ooh, ex)
Ex-nigga(ex), I ain’t you ex-nigga
Said, I ain’t nothin’ like your ex-nigga
Ain’t your ex, your, ain’t your ex
Ain’t your ex, ain’t your ex (I ain’t nothing like your ex-nigga)
I ain’t your ex nigga
Ain’t your ex

[Outro: Eric Bellinger]
Ooh, yeah, Mila, Mila, Mila
Shoutout Tink
She did her thing
And you know me (It’s Eazy)
It’s all Easy
It’s too easy, way too easy
And I ain’t nothing like your ex-nigga
It’s all Easy
It’s too easy, way too easy
So take my number, that’s a Eazy Call
Haven’t seen you in a while

Tags Eazy Call, PJ, Shoutout Tink

Lyrics

Eric Bellinger – Ain’t Ya Ex (feat. Mila J & Tink)

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date March 22, 2018
No Comments on Eric Bellinger – Ain’t Ya Ex (feat. Mila J & Tink)

[Intro: Eric Bellinger]
Aw yeah, oh
Player shit only, yeah, yeah, yeah
This gon’ be your favorite song
(Hol’ up, hol’ up)

[Verse 2: Mila J]
Mila to the rescue (Mila, Mila)
I’m about my checks too (Hold up, Mila)
I’m a goddess so I can bless you (Bless you)
If you’re lucky, I might sex you
First, I gotta know, boy, what that head do? (Oh yeah)
I’ma send a pic to test you (Oh yeah)
I know, I impress you (Oh yeah)
So shoot that PJ, need my leg room
Baby, I ain’t nothing like your ex-bitch (Ain’t your ex)
Let’s get this shit established (Ain’t your ex)
Hella fatter that a bad bitch (Ain’t your ex)
Plus, my booty real, come grab it

Tags Eazy Call, PJ, Shoutout Tink

Lyrics

Kodak Black – Believe This Shit

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date March 8, 2018
No Comments on Kodak Black – Believe This Shit

[Intro]
Aye I don’t pour that liquor on the floor, I pour it down the drain
Down the sink for my dawgs who in hell and who in jail to drink
You feel me?
Nah mean, nah sayin’
Nah talm’ ’bout

[Chorus]
I ain’t gonna lie I ain’t never thought it could be like this yea
I ain’t gonna lie, I ain’t even believe in me back then yea
My people who in hell wish you could see this shit yea
I give it all up to try it again so y’all could see this shit yea
I ain’t gonna lie I ain’t never thought it could be like this yea
I ain’t gonna lie, I ain’t even believe in me back then yea
My people who in hell wish you could see this shit yea
I give it all up to try it again so y’all could see this shit

[Verse 1]
Never thought I could make it out the PJ’s
I was just robbin’ with DJ
Shout out to my niggas who in hell right now
And to my dawgs who ain’t got release days
I was doin’ fraud way in D.C
I was doin’ fraud way in Chesapeake
Ain’t nobody wonder about my CD
I was breakin’ and enterin’ B and E
Mama always see me on TV
Cause I hit the news, I was 15
Now she can see me on VH1
Shit ain’t a game, this shit ain’t fun
To all the kids who look up to me
Shit ain’t a game, this shit ain’t fun
Niggas want beef we serve they lunch
We been on the run like six to eight months

[Verse 2]
Kickin’ in doors, Me, Moopa, and Lil’ Wiz
They just pick my dawg up for attempt
They just pick my dawg up for a murder one
My dawg got killed while I was doin’ a bid
We just talked a day before the shit
And he wanted to talk to me again
And now I never know what he wanted to say to me
If I say my dawg in Heaven that would be make believe
I know my grandma made it in Heaven say her grace for me
Now I’m gettin’ all this cake, I could open a backery

Tags DJ, Lil Wiz, PJ, TV

Lyrics

ASAP Ferg – Kristi YamaGucci lyrics

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date March 1, 2018
No Comments on ASAP Ferg – Kristi YamaGucci lyrics

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

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

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

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

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

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

Tags Calvin Klein, Dapper Dan, Frodo Baggins, PJ

Lyrics

ASAP Ferg – Kristi Yamagucci (feat. Denzel Curry & IDK)

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date March 1, 2018
No Comments on ASAP Ferg – Kristi Yamagucci (feat. Denzel Curry & IDK)

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

[Verse 1: A$AP Ferg]
Racks on racks on racks
Dapper Dan all on my back
Double G all on my cap
Monogram on a Maybach
Testing that pussy like Pap (smear)
Eating that bitch from the back (yeah)
Mumble rap all on that cat (yeah)
Lil Pump she makin’ it clap
I’m ’bout to write here me a letter
Tell ’em I’m doing way better
"Plain Jane" the song of the year
I’m busy just chasing the lettuce
I’ma Calvin Klein model on billboards
I did a campaign with the fellas
Adidas done gave me another deal
And Hennessy too, they got cheddar (alright)
Shoot videos in the PJ’s
Then I go hop on a PJ (yeah)
They sending me all these free clothes
Momma just put it on eBay
I run the shit like a relay
Niggas gon’ have to press replay
Yammy say hi to my daddy for me
And Jam Master Jay for TJ

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

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

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

Tags Calvin Klein, Dapper Dan, Frodo Baggins, PJ

Lyrics

Taylor Bennett – Minimum Wage

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date February 27, 2018
No Comments on Taylor Bennett – Minimum Wage

[Intro]
Minimum wage, minimum wage
I give you that dollar, you give me the day
‘Cause I cannot work for that minimum wage
Minimum wage (yah) minimum wage (yah)
Minimum wage (yah)

[Chorus]
Minimum wage, I cannot work for that minimum wage
I give you that dollar, you give me the day
‘Cause I cannot fall for that minimum wage (yah)
Minimum wage, I cannot work for that minimum wage
I give you that dollar, you give me the day
‘Cause I cannot fall for that minimum wage (ooh, yah)

[Verse 1]
Camera got minimum, I need the mems and the M again
I need my benefits, I need that business
I’m running that bitch ’til I’m out of adrenaline
Call up the jet, be like "Son, you been killing it"
Straight off the PJ, I’m right to the dealership
Then I’m back in this shit, that’s how my win is spent
That’s how I spit when I step back that bitch just get you a uh
Forty dollars in a day, that ain’t enough for my babe
I need a house in a hills with a maid
Like "Damn, where the fuck do you stay?", ay
Water dancing on my wrists, uh
Big body with assists, yah
Give a fuck about a bitch, nah
Did some drugs, now we lit, yah

[Verse 2]
I think I need new identity, I need that big bottle Hennessey
I need my pool on infinity, fuck what y’all niggas is ‘finna be
All y’all just feed off my energy
Fuck what y’all people pretend to be
Y’all move as one like a centipede
I’m out the box like you missing me
This is signed field, and sense out officially
All y’all niggas gotta die out eventually
Free smoke, free smoke (yah)
Lil bust, big folds (yah)
Lil glove, big dopes , Chi’ with the crime, same as my way
Way, way, way, way, way back in ’94
Why you think we working nine to fo’?
And Why you think we seling rocks and blows?
Cause we all grew up on a rock and roll
We back and forth like a pendulum
Win for the summer, then back for the win again
You think you winning shit, boy, yo’ ass is innocent
Ignorant to the pen, we ain’t been injured and
Work through this shit like an in-school suspension
Can’t whip out my cop like a bitch’s extension, get
We get on road like them niggas is finished
And we wanna work, but the bands is not getting it

[Chorus]
Minimum wage, I cannot work for that minimum wage
I give you that dollar, you give me the day
‘Cause I cannot fall for that minimum wage
Minimum wage, I cannot work for that minimum wage
I give you that dollar, you give me the day
‘Cause I cannot fall for that minimum wage
Minimum wage, I cannot work for that minimum wage
I give you that dollar, you give me the day
‘Cause I cannot fall for that minimum wage
Minimum wage, I cannot work for that minimum wage
I give you that dollar, you give me the day
‘Cause I cannot fall for that minimum wage

Tags PJ

Lyrics

ZumBee – Funday Onna Sunday

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date February 7, 2018
No Comments on ZumBee – Funday Onna Sunday

[Intro]
I don’t understand man
All these oldheads feeling like they
You know, just too old to have fun man
If you ain’t having fun, then why you doing it?
(You not too old to have fun)

[Chorus]
I was seeing when I knew I had to get it one day
I’m so special, I get Chick-fil-A on a Sunday
No commercial, damn let’s board PJ down the runway
Call my niggas, tell ’em pack they bags, let’s have a fun day
Whoa, I just came to have fun
Oh, no, you not too old to have fun
Whoa, I just came to have fun
Oh, no, you not too old to have fun

[Verse 1]
Let’s have a fun day
Monday through Sunday
Don’t want no gunplay
So watch what you say
And you gets no play
Like Bobby Boucher
Three bitches with me
Uno, dos, tres
Got three pretty girls with me and they tryna have fun
I only want you for one night so you can leave when I’m done
Heard your boyfriend got a frown, ’cause you swallowed all my sons
He might as well put it down, it ain’t no bullets in his gun
It ain’t no bullets in your gun and tell me why the fuck you on it
Fourth batter in the lineup, well bitch my bases loaded
Old bread stashed away for rainy days, it’s probably molded
School nigga turned street, when you got caught I know you folded

[Pre-Chorus]
Stop all that flexin’
Blue cheese, salad dressing
Sloppy top, yeah it was messy
With ease, ain’t it a blessing

[Verse 2]
I can (yes), and you can’t (hah)
Big racks (bands), in my bank (cash)
Trash can (ooh), ooh he stank (psh)
He mad (mad) ’cause he can’t (can’t)
He tried to swim with a shark, he gon’ fuck around and drown
I heard they hate you when you up but they gon’ love you when you down
These niggas really ain’t your partners, can’t name one that’s really down
It’s only bosses in my circle, ain’t got time to sit around
We got bananas for you monkeys like we played in Jumanji
My favorite color green ’cause I’m in love with the money
Tryna add to the pot like the bees do the honey
Ate my plate, I need seconds, need it all in my tummy

[Pre-Chorus]
Whoa, they say they closed
Not for me, open them doors
Add cheese on number four
Wish you was me, I know, I know

[Verse 3]
Tried to bring some people with me on this journey, they didn’t listen
Now my bases loaded full, I’m Michael J, he Scottie Pippen
Bitch we up, please check the score
When we was down man y’all was distant
My first hit was slept on, Banana Peels, I’m never slippin’
We can all have fun, Lil Boat to Budden Joe
So let’s all jump around until we reach another mode
Got a little taste of money but I swear I need some more
I’m a fiend for that paper sort of like I’m Curtis Snow
When the cows go moo and the sheep make a sound
Shiny goes boo, pretty ladies skip around
When the clock strikes two all the panties hit the ground
Bases Loaded be the crew, and bitch it’s ZumBee at the mound

[Outro]
I can, and you can’t
I can, and you can’t
I can, and you can’t
I can, and you can’t
I was seeing when I knew I had to get it one day
No commercial, damn let’s board PJ down the runway

Tags Bases Loaded, Curtis Snow, Lil Boat, PJ

Lyrics

Migos – Superstar

(Intro)
“Honorable C.N.O.T.E”
Yeah, yeah
“Buddha Bless this beat”

(chorus)
Yeah, yeah “yeah”
Yeah, yeah “yeah”
Yeah, yeah “yeah”
Yeah, yeah “yeah”
Superstars, superstars, superstars out
Brand new cars (skrrt), we buy the bar now
Swang doors now (skrrt), f**k on h**s now “smash”
Tats and golds “tats”, rock the shows, uh
Big bank rolls (cash!), now she go, uh
For the team, uh (woo)
Now she wet, don’t ski “splash!”
Thinking bout posting her on the gram, and delete her “delete it!”
Whole gang in the field, we don’t do bleachers “uh”

(Verse 1)
Pockets lettuce, uh
B*tch, don’t think I’m ready, uh uh
You got that swag (Drip!)
You got that sauce then sell it, uh uh
Free my n*gg*s, cash ’em out we bailin’ (free)
Saw my teacher, I was the same student failin’
Now I got a lawyer, straight cash, no settlement
I’m out my element, out my, out my element (woo!)
My n*gg*s the same, don’t need no clout, no fame (no clout, no clout)
Bought the gang, all brand new chains (ice ice)
Swerve the lane, call the group “the gang” (gang, gang)
Whip that thing, then she give me br**n (ooh, yeah)
Them boys fool you tryna do it, bring the t**l**s out (try and do it)
N*gg*s don’t want no smoke, they pull up with they c**chies out
It’s times three, it’s times three, that’s how it goes (three-way, yeah)
Park a million dollars at the bando (skrrt, skrrt)
We gon’ make ’em eat that d*pe until we glow (eat it up, eat it up)
Rich n*gg*s straight to the top floor (top)
On more PJ’s than Pablo
Wrist like water go to Cabo
Cash in the walls, hollow (cash)
Your money too small, micro (woo)
Huncho on the call, gotta reload (reload)

(Chorus 2)
Yeah, yeah “yeah”
Yeah, yeah “yeah”
Yeah, yeah “yeah”
Yeah, yeah
Superstars, superstars, superstars out
Brand new cars (skrrt), we buy the bar now
Swang doors now (skrrt), f*ck on h**s now (smash)
Tats and golds (tats), rock the shows, uh
Big bank rolls (cash!), now she go, uh
For the team, uh (woo)
Now she wet, don’t ski (splash!)
Thinking bout posting her on the gram, and delete her (delete it!)
Whole gang in the field, we don’t do bleachers (uh)
Thinking bout posting her on the gram, and delete her (delete it!)
Whole gang in the field, we don’t do bleachers (uh)

(Verse 2)
Ice the gang (ice), had to ice the gang (ice)
So much ice (too much), had to ice the lane (whew)
Freeze to death (freeze), had to freeze the lane (freeze)
Camera phone, Scarface, Al Capone (Al Capone)
Turn your lights off, n*gg*, we’ve been on (been on)
Came from my block and growed up, guess I’m homegrown (homegrown)
Well known, cookie, that is my cologne (cookie, cookie)
I put my wrist inside the freezer, came out froze (ice, ice)
I put my heart inside this sh*t ’cause I was chose (heart, chose)
I put my heart inside and only God knows (God knows)
Get a Kleenex for that baby, wipe his nose (I wiped his nose)
What’s a leg? We shootin’ heads ’til they explode (reload)

(Chorus 2)

(Verse 3)
Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Woo! Offset!
Wraith with the stars out (Wraith)
Trappin’ out the boarded house (hey)
The bricks get deported out (deported)
N*gg*s grouped out for a shout
Marvin the Martian (Martian)
I’ma put your brain up for auction (brrt)
Precede with caution (caution), Skeleton AP is frosted
I sit back and read the offense (read)
My h*e is addicted to faucets (woo)
Chanel bag is ostrich (Chanel)
Stay down, come up in the process (stay down)
Hey, private jet, yeah, Thotty wanna f**k the same s*x, yeah
Diamond mil’ mil’, yeah, I’ma keep the b*tch on welfare (woo, woo)
The pink stone real rare (rare), bling bling blaow, yeah (bling bling)
Mama got style, yeah (style), Chanel reptile, player (hey)
Geeked on Mars, gotta give the grace up to God (grace to God)
Three rockstars, nobody seein’ the gang, on God (God)

(Chorus 2)

Tags Buddha Bless, PJ, Quality Control Drops, Related Posts

Lyrics

Meek Mill – Fall Thru

[Intro]
Yeah
Sad to say it but I love you
Don’t take no offense but you’re my bitch

[Chorus]
Yeah, you gone fall through every time a nigga call you
That’s why I ball how I ball when I spoil you
We was in Miami, first time I saw you
I was in a Phantom when I pulled up on you
It was late nights, late nights in the bando
Fucking on you good got you bustin’ like you Rambo
And you keep it hood so you really understand though
You was there through my ups and downs like a camel

[Verse 1]
Ass all fat say she get it from her mama
She just want the money, she ain’t fuckin’ with no bloggers
Fuck you on a PJ the whole way to the Bahamas
Gucci, Valentino, baby, I can be your stylist
Fuck me with your friend, yeah yeah, you was wildin’
1942 shots turn you to a monster
Thuggin’ like you 2Pac, you know that I got you
Love the way you ride it, move them hips like you Rihanna
I was supposed to hit, I was never s’pose to cuff you
Put you on my homie ’cause he say he wanna fuck you
When he asked me ’bout you, I just told him that I want you
But now its quiet for you, ’cause I told him that I loved you

[Chorus]
You gone fall through every time a nigga call you
That’s why I ball how I ball when I spoil you
We was in Miami, first time I saw you
I was in a Phantom when I pulled up on you
It was late nights, late nights in the bando
Fucking on you good got you bustin’ like you Rambo
And you keep it hood so you really understand though
You was there through my ups and downs like a camel

[Verse 2]
I was locked up, I remember when I hit you
Used to write me back every letter that I sent you
You wasn’t my girl but you used to pretend to
When I came home, let me beat it instrumental
Lame left you scarred so I had to reinvent you
If you was car, shit, you ride it like a Benz do
Wraith it with the stars, every time I come and get you
We be goin’ hard every time you on that Hen’ too
I was in the mix, actin’ like a savage
Got another bitch and you told me I could have it
I know you was sick so I doubled back to grab you
So anything you wish, yeah yeah, you can have it

[Bridge]
Whoa, she just want a ride with a shotta, though
I’m an original don dada, though
Knock them all down like dominoes
Make me tell them other bitches, vamonos
Whoa, good gal, bad gal, small city, mad world
She just wanna shine, whoa
And last night was mad real, sunshades, advils, fuck you all the time

Tags Miami, PJ

Lyrics

Hoodrich Pablo Juan – God Damn

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date November 7, 2017
No Comments on Hoodrich Pablo Juan – God Damn

[Chorus]
She know she bad, I got that bag
Foreign with 230 on the dash
I could count cash fast
Pouring up lean, go to sleep on them Xans
Roll up gelato, three grams
Stuffing my pocket with bands
She cute, she having a hand
I’m rich, I know I’m the man, yeah
Ice on my neck, goddamn
I got bitches popping up like spam
Send my money, give her twenty two grams
Sell the whole thing, we don’t sell no grams
She got a fat ass, goddamn
I got supreme on my Vans
Gucci bag, fill it with bands
Call up the shooter, they jump out the van, yeah

[Verse 1]
I’m ice skating, got my shooter waiting
I, I got the cookies, baking
I wanna fuck, I’m impatient
Foreign, she half-Asian
Foreign, I ride like I’m racing
Dirty AK with my shell cases
None of my bitches is basic
On the red pill like Neo in The Matrix
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Everything I wear is rare
Gucci with snakes and lions and bears
Louis Vuitton, I love Damier
Fuck from the back and I pull on her hair
Yeah, rocking Chanels and Moncler
Outfit, it come out next year
I’m drinking lean, not no beer
Yeah, strapped the fuck up, ain’t no reason to fear
Get your ass busted, ain’t no pussies over here
Brand new foreign with the camera in the rear
Twenty thousand worth of ice in one ear
I got some bitches that’s white like vanilla
These niggas falling off the map like Sears
I got these haters mad, they in tears
My niggas sharp, I cut like a seal

[Verse 2]
VS all-black diamonds like Wesley
Beat up the pot like I’m playing Tekken
Can’t wear silver, I ain’t come in second
I ain’t got no time for these thots and these peasants
Yeah, strapped up like I was Giuseppes
Bad bitch I just seen at Essex
All of my bitches, they too sexy
1017 chain, cop a fezzy
Just like the police, you gotta arrest it
I fuck her and treat her like a pedestrian
Fly by with butterfly wings on my Tesla
Cook with that pot like professional wrestler
Pour that shit up, why the fuck would I measure?
Gucci bag with the .38 special
I’m rocking Louis like I could play Chess
I spread like the old man that you piss
Ooh, I make her give me the neck
Call me PJ like a private jet
Trap like a soldier, got stacks on deck
I stay in Designer, I walk on a check
I’m dressing like I’m vinegarette
I bust that seal on that Hitech
Rich nigga, I bet I can get her wet
She want shit bad, but I got the check

[Chorus]
She know she bad, I got that bag
Foreign with 230 on the dash
I could count cash fast
Pouring up lean, go to sleep on them Xans
Roll up gelato, three grams
Stuffing my pocket with bands
She cute, she having a hand
I’m rich, I know I’m the man, yeah
Ice on my neck, goddamn
I got bitches popping up like spam
Send my money, give her twenty to [?]
Sell the whole thing, we don’t sell no grams
She got a fat ass, goddamn
I got Supreme on my Vans
Gucci bag, fill it with bands
Call up the shooter, they jump out the van, yeah

Tags Louis Vuitton, PJ, VS

Lyrics

Marc E. Bassy – So Simple (feat. G-Eazy)

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date October 4, 2017
No Comments on Marc E. Bassy – So Simple (feat. G-Eazy)

[Marc E. Bassy:]
When I was broke girl, we wasn’t rocking
But to tell the truth girl, that didn’t stop me
Said you wanted to get the Wraith, Imma cop that
Now we be picking up every time you drop that
And your next dude, you know I’mma top that
And she wanna come back, She wanna come back to me
Now she wanna come back she wanna come back to me

But she don’t fly my way
Unless I’m on PJ
That gossip, all you say
My baby you got so LA
Can’t believe you’re so simple like that
Can’t believe you’re so simple
Can’t believe you’re so simple like that
Can’t believe you’re so simple

When I got on girl, you didn’t trust me
But to tell you the truth girl, that didn’t bug me
You came to my party, with your young socialite
I slid a couple ’cause I was cold as ice
Then the next morining you gon’ tell me you love me
Now she wanna come back
She wanna come back to me
Now she wanna come back
Now she wanna come back to me

[G-Eazy:]
She’s so simple
She’s so cliché
She’s so gossip
She say, he say
She wants me back, says that each day
But I don’t repeat, and I don’t replay
She moved to Weho, now that’s where she stay
Went up on weekday, she f- the DJ
She won’t fly my way, unless I’m on PJ
She lied to me, I would die before I betray
Anyone I love most, Anyone I hold close
Sniffing all her love up, OD off of one dose
One shot, play me, I become ghost
You could be the prettiest, but ugly when it’s up close
Used to be my type, now I’m off those
Driving through the city full of lost souls
Just be careful look out for the potholes
But now I know how to spot those

[Marc E. Bassy (G-Eazy):]
But she don’t drive my car, unless I’m on a boulevard
That vintage fits you good
You getting known in Hollywood (hey)
Can’t believe you’re so simple like that
Can’t believe you’re so simple (I can’t believe it)
Can’t believe you’re so simple like that
Can’t believe you’re so simple (yeah)

Tags DJ, LA, OD, PJ

Lyrics

Russ – Prosper

[Chorus]
No fake shit against me shall prosper
Yes I came I saw I conquered
No fake shit against me shall prosper
Yes I came I conquered
And they don’t wanna see you win
So its fuck them till the end
And they always gonna hate
Always gonna have some shit to say
And they don’t wanna see you win
So its fuck them till the end
And they always gonna hate
Always gonna have some shit to say

[Verse 1]
Eating in Italy
Golfing in Glasgow
Swimming in Switzerland
Mr international
All off these rap flows
All off these chord progressions
All of these kicks, snares, melodies and tour investments
I put my own money up so no one tells me shit
I know what you about to say before you tell me it
You so predictable
I’m so in tune with it
I gotta folder with a lotta women’s nudes in it
I gotta Rolex
I gotta lotta chains
But none of that is worth as much as memories that I’ve gained
I’m flying PJ’s
50,000 each way
Live from the peach-state
I hit the sweepstakes
These days they all scream Russ
Some are screaming hate
Some are screaming love
Fuck it everytime you judge I get paid
That’s what my mom told me
I’ma cop the wheels of fortune cause you owe me
Pat sayjak shit, pat sayjak shit
Might get a maybach for maybach just to say that shit
I gave a million to the government
I pay taxes
Did I say government I meant the mob
I hate that shit
Legal extortion of half my fortune
Soon as the tour ends a portion of my racks like Nordstrom gets taxed
If that’s the cost of doing business dog I need loopholes
Luckily the money getting longer than manute bol
Sumo it’s time to put my foot down
Picked up the gin around the time I put the kush down
I still smoke a little but not without a shot in me
Connected to my higher self yeah that’s the god in me
I’m just tryna stay on top like an apostrophe
Bitch I’m tryna win fuck only being a nominee
I’m a one of one, Russ is an anomaly
Coming to your city and boosting its economy

[Bridge]
Just live your truth and do you
They hate honesty boo hoo
Just count up all your blessings
Big or small they’re still all blessings

[Verse 2]
Three accounts each over a milli
Rap game so crazy if I’m sober I’m silly
Yeah I drink, yeah I smoke
But that’s natural elixirs
You live like your future ain’t in the picture
I’m high up out in Malibu
The road to real wealth is always paved with different avenues
The difference in dividends
Is multiple businesses
I got end of year goals too big for Christmas lists
I’m dropping these jewels
I’m breaking the rules
I take your negativity and I use it as fuel
These rappers are food
Yeah I’m still hungry
I own apartment complexes that’s real money

Tags Italy, PJ

Lyrics

Tee Grizzley – Beef (feat. Meek Mill)

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date September 1, 2017
No Comments on Tee Grizzley – Beef (feat. Meek Mill)

[Intro: Tee Grizzley]
Helluva made this beat, baby
Haa
Meek, you got your strap?
Ain’t nothin’ to talk ’bout
Let’s get it

[Hook: Tee Grizzley & Meek Mill]
I don’t sleep on no beef
We ain’t sleeping on these niggas
You know I’m on top of everything, nigga (Lurking)
I come on your street
We’re just creeping on these niggas (Yeah)
Fuck talking, let that metal bang, nigga
Murk ’em
I don’t squash no beef
We ain’t doing no flex
I was taught to handle everything, nigga (Handle that)
I don’t play with no beef
We ain’t play with no pussy
Run in his crib and kill everything living, you hear me? (Brr)

[Verse 1: Tee Grizzley]
If I wanted a nigga gone, he a dead man (He through)
Say my name on his song, he a dead man (That’s your ass)
Tryna hide behind your niggas, that’s your man’s ass (nigga)
I leave his whole body bloody, call him Red Man
Hit the club in them Audi trucks and threw bands
Don’t get it twisted, bitch, we still got them Scooby Doo vans (Still slidin’)
Fuck with me, I’ma come to where you stand
And walk in your house with big shit like I’m finna move in
(Tell that bitch, we in this bitch)
Let me say that I don’t wanna see you bustlin’ (Kill the niggas)
Niggas in your backyard and on your front grass (We here)
And then don’t shot cribs, they gon’ give you one chance
Like nigga, come outside or we gon’ come in, boy

[Verse 2: Meek Mill]
Yeah, nigga diss me in these raps, how we gon’ go about it (We gon’ go about it)
When we wack ’em, shit Obama prolly gon’ know about it (Brr)
Load the chopper, crack the window when we rollin’ by (There it go)
Fuck a drive-by, run ’em down so we know we got ’em (Hit ’em)
Know we chopping, test ’em and we leave you Holy Bible (Woo)
All this money got me thinking what I owe my rivals (Pussies)
A nigga said we tried to squash it then you know we lyin’ (Fall)
I told my youngin’ grab that rifle, set that boy on fire (Brr)
Couple niggas used to be with us, we ain’t make it to they funeral, they said that we did it
If we make it through the summer, we gon’ leave niggas (Like what?)
Like it’s [??] order, we gon’ squeeze niggas (Facts)

[Verse 3: Tee Grizzley]
I see the fear in your face, nigga (Lying)
And ain’t no turning back, I got my mind made, nigga (For real)
I chase nigga, eliminate niggas (Ayy)
Tell ’em Leek, that lemon squeeze ain’t for lemonade, nigga (No)
I ain’t no hatin’ ass nigga, but I hate niggas (Hate ’em)
What they gone do, that doctor ain’t got shit to save niggas (It go)
I’m through the city in that Range with my thang, nigga (On my momma)
Say my name and get banged, that’s on gang, nigga

[Verse 4: Meek Mill]
Still putting Draco’s on the plane, nigga (Draco)
Stopped the PJ in your city, we ain’t playin’ nigga (Skurt)
Heard he sneak dissing, seen him, what you sayin’, nigga (What you sayin’?)
Lost the memory, him must have had them Xans in him (On them Xans)
Still ride SRTs with the yams in ’em (SKurt)
Rental in my cousin’s name with the grams in him
Catch his homie out in traffic, that’s your man, nigga? (That’s your man?)
He say he don’t fuck with you and he a fan of us, pussy

[Verse 5: Tee Grizzley]
These niggas tweet a lot, these niggas text alot
What they gone do when I pull up and make em’ catch a lot?
Blue beam on that choppa Kamehameha
I throw them dragon balls at you like I’m Kakarot (boom, boom, boom)

[Verse 6: Meek Mill]
Circle through your hood, where your crew at? (Where your crew, nigga?)
Send your whole squad a message like a group text (Uh, brr)
Hit your dawg 20 times, nigga, you next (You next)
Squeeze that Glock until my trigger blue-black (Bow)

Tags PJ, Red Man, Scooby Doo

Lyrics

Nandos – Asap Ferg lyrics

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date August 29, 2017
No Comments on Nandos – Asap Ferg lyrics

Lyrics Asap Ferg – Nandos

Nowadays s**t is crazy out here man
Gotta protect yourself, yeah.(Nandos)

Load up the chopper and ride on your enemies (Trap)
This what you get when you f*ck with the family (Lord)
Roll with the f*ckin’ winners we the winner team (Trap)
You f*ck with my niggas you gettin’ the penalty (Lord)
Remember me versuri-lyrics.info
Load up the chopper and ride on your enemies (Trap)
This what you get when you f*ck with the family (Lord)
Roll with the f*ckin’ winners we the winner team (Trap)
You f*ck with my niggas you gettin’ the penalty (Lord)
Remember me.

Hundred bottles in the club when I land though
We was in the PJ flying high f*cking up Nandos
Landed in Cannes for a couple bands, that was the plan though
We gotta get a couple model bitches we gon’ f*ck on the damn boat
The a*s and legs got me dippin’ out, we gon’ f*ck with the Lambo
The pigs f*ckin’ with me I’mma turn into Django
Let’s ride on these niggas ’til Kirk Knight gotta speed up the tempo
This Hennessy got me f*cked up, yeah I ain’t feelin’ my pain though
Feelin’ my pain though.

Load up the chopper and ride on your enemies (Trap)
That’s what you get when you f*ck with the family (Lord)
Roll with the f*ckin’ winners we the winner team (Trap)
You f*ck with my niggas you gettin’ the penalty (Lord)
Remember me
Load up the chopper and ride on your enemies (Trap)
That’s what you get when you f*ck with the family (Lord)
Roll with the f*ckin’ winners we the winner team (Trap)
You f*ck with my niggas you gettin’ the penalty (Lord)
Remember me.

F*ckin’ hatin’ niggas damning my interviews
f*ck what you thinkin’ my nigga? This USA s**t get it critical
I’m not talkin’ lyrical
I’m talkin’ po-po-po that be shootin’ niggas in the blues
S**t is so cynical
Call up a Uber now my little niggas will finish you
Now look what I did to you
Motherf*cker don’t you see that I’m ridin’
24/7 on the corner all my niggas they be all survivin’
Used to only hear ice cream trucks now all we hear is sirens
That’s ’cause this f*cking world only stuck on money and violence
Money and violence.

Tags Kirk Knight, PJ, Video Asap Ferg

Lyrics

ASAP Ferg – Nandos (Still Striving Album)

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date August 23, 2017
No Comments on ASAP Ferg – Nandos (Still Striving Album)

[Intro]
Nowadays shit is crazy out here man
Gotta protect yourself, yeah

[Chorus]
Load up the chopper and ride on your enemies (Trap)
This what you get when you fuck with the family (Lord)
Roll with the fuckin’ winners we the winner team (Trap)
You fuck with my niggas you gettin’ the penalty (Lord)
Remember me
Load up the chopper and ride on your enemies (Trap)
This what you get when you fuck with the family (Lord)
Roll with the fuckin’ winners we the winner team (Trap)
You fuck with my niggas you gettin’ the penalty (Lord)
Remember me

[Verse 1]
Hundred bottles in the club when I land though
We was in the PJ flying high fucking up Nandos
Landed in Cannes for a couple bands, that was the plan though
We gotta get a couple model bitches we gon’ fuck on the damn boat
The ass and legs got me dippin’ out, we gon’ fuck with the Lambo
The pigs fuckin’ with me I’mma turn into Django
Let’s ride on these niggas ’til Kirk Knight gotta speed up the tempo
This Hennessy got me fucked up, yeah I ain’t feelin’ my pain though
Feelin’ my pain though

[Chorus]
Load up the chopper and ride on your enemies (Trap)
That’s what you get when you fuck with the family (Lord)
Roll with the fuckin’ winners we the winner team (Trap)
You fuck with my niggas you gettin’ the penalty (Lord)
Remember me
Load up the chopper and ride on your enemies (Trap)
That’s what you get when you fuck with the family (Lord)
Roll with the fuckin’ winners we the winner team (Trap)
You fuck with my niggas you gettin’ the penalty (Lord)
Remember me

[Verse 2]
Fuckin’ hatin’ niggas damning my interviews
Fuck what you thinkin’ my nigga? This USA shit get it critical
I’m not talkin’ lyrical
I’m talkin’ po-po-po that be shootin’ niggas in the blues
Shit is so cynical
Call up a Uber now my little niggas will finish you
Now look what I did to you
Motherfucker don’t you see that I’m ridin’
24/7 on the corner all my niggas they be all survivin’
Used to only hear ice cream trucks now all we hear is sirens
That’s ’cause this fucking world only stuck on money and violence
Money and violence

Tags Kirk Knight, PJ

Lyrics

A$AP Ferg – Nandos Lyrics

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date August 19, 2017
No Comments on A$AP Ferg – Nandos Lyrics

A$AP Ferg – Nandos Lyrics

[Intro]
Nowadays shit is crazy out here man
Gotta protect yourself
Yeah

[Chorus]
Load up the chopper and ride on your enemies
That’s what you get when you fuck with the family
Roll with the fuckin’ winners we the winner team
You fuck with my niggas you get in the penalty
Remember me
Load up the chopper and ride on your enemies
That’s what you get when you fuck with the family
Roll with the fuckin’ winners we the winner team
You fuck with my niggas you get in the penalty
Remember me

[Verse 1]
Hundred bottles in the club when I land though
We was in the PJ flying high fucking up Nandos
Into the cans for a couple bands that was the plan though
We gotta get a couple model bitches we gon’ fuck on the damn boat
The ass and legs got me dippin’ out we gon’ fuck with the Lambo
The pigs fuckin’ with me I’mma turn into the Django
Let’s ride on these niggas till Kirk Knight got us beat up the tempo
This Hennessy got me fucked up yeah I ain’t feelin’ my pain though (Feelin’ my pain though)

READ A$AP Ferg – One Night Savage Lyrics ft. MadeinTYO

READ Mreyza – Ethekwini Lyrics ft. Madanon

[Verse 2]
Fuckin’ hatin’ niggas damning my interviews
Fuck what you thinkin’ my nigga this USA shit get it critical
I’m not talkin’ lyrical I’m talkin’ po-po-po that be shootin’ niggas in the blues
Shit is so cynical
Call up a Uber now my little niggas will finish you
Now look what I did to you
Motherfucker don’t you see that I’m ridin’
24/7 on the corner all my niggas they be all survivin’
Used to hear ice cream trucks now all we hear is sirens
That’s ’cause this fucking world only stuck on money and violence
(money and violence)

READ A$AP Ferg ft. Migos – Back Hurt Official Video

A$AP Ferg – Nandos Lyrics

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Tags Kirk Knight, PJ, usa

Lyrics

Kodak Black – Boost My Ego (feat. Future)

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date August 2, 2017
No Comments on Kodak Black – Boost My Ego (feat. Future)

[Intro: Future]
It’s that Project Baby
And we about fifteen up, you know what I mean?
They ‘gon try take advantage of this money
Shit coming in fast
They know we ain’t got a blueprint of this shit
We just came into this shit with it already

[Chorus: Future]
Baby mama flagein’, she don’t get no pardon
Boostin’ up my ego, made me go my hardest
Took me out the PJ and put me in a mansion
Break my pill down three ways, made me feel outstandin’
Panamera these days, used to ride the banshee
Louis Vuitton these thots, I trap out the spot
Hermes belts and drapes, keep my doggies straight
Kodak buyin’ a Wraith, soon as he beat the case

[Verse 1: Kodak Black]
All I know, identity theft, I buried all the credit cards
G1 had me in the kitchen, sellin’ hard and doin’ fraud
Took me out the ‘jects, now I’m flyin’ private jets, nigga
‘Member snatchin’ chains, I got my own around my neck, nigga
I caught five kidnappin’, but I ain’t no babysitter
I caught five kidnappin’, how you let me take your nigga?
Posted on the ugly, I jump out, go to bustin’
My baby mama dusty, got my little one out here musky
Skrrt, skrrt, pull up in a vert, call it a pullback, ayy
Pull up in a Wraith, they be like "Who is that"?
Pulling up in luxury, thank God, ain’t no more strugglin’
I’m rollin’ ’round, I be duffelin’
She under arrest, I’m cuffin’ it

[Verse 2: Kodak Black]
I just beat the case, I’m ridin’ in a double R
Spread the cheese with your people, gotta feed the squad
I bought my mama and my brothers, them another car
At first I was playin’ with this shit, but now I’m goin’ hard
It’s like my baby mama feel like she the superstar
I threw away the Fossil watch and bought an Audemars
Was in the ‘Yota, now I’m ridin’ in the luxury car
I was off the chain, now a youngin’ on the charts
I was ridin’ Suzuki, ayy, now I’m actin’ boujee, ayy
Now I’m coolin’, foolin’, I’m just ’bout my music
No more shootin’ cee-lo, poppin’ wheelies on the Banshee
Can’t be thuggin’ no more, homie, I stay in a mansion
I’m on mollys and the Xannies, feel extravagant
Took me off the ugly corner, I’m ridin’ panoramic
You hate the way I’m transitionin’, I’m corporate thugging
You miss when I was headfirst, when I wasn’t gettin’ no money

Tags Louis Vuitton, PJ, Project Baby

Lyrics

Boost My Ego

Lyrics to ‘Boost My Ego’ by Kodak Black:

–Intro: Future–
It’s that project baby
[?] fit in, you know what I mean
They ‘gon try take your bands and this money
Shit coming in fast
They know we ain’t got a blueprint of this shit
We just came into this shit [?]

–Hook: Future–
Baby mama flies in
She don’t get no pardon
Boosting up my ego, made me go my hardest
Took me out the PJ, put me in a mansion
Break my pill down three ways, made me feel outstanding
Panamera these days, used to ride the [?]
Rover [?], I trap out the spot
Her mans [?]
Keep my doggy straight
Kodak ’bout to raid
So many beat the case

–Verse 1: Kodak Black–
All I know, I didn’t steal
I buried all the credit cards
She won’t have me in the kitchen, selling hard and doing fraud
Took me out the ‘jects now I’m flying private jets, nigga
Remember snatching chains, I got my own around my neck, nigga
I caught five kidnapping, but I ain’t no babysitter
I caught five kidnapping, how you let me take you, nigga
Posted on the ugly, jump out go to busting
My baby mama dusting, I’m a little one out here, [?]
Skrrt, skrrt, pull up in a Vert, call it a pull [?], ayy
Pull up in a Wraith, they be like “Who is that”?
Pulling up in luxury, thank God, ain’t no more struggling
I’m rolling and I be duffeling
You under arrest, I’m cuffing it

–Verse 2: Kodak Black–
I just beat the case, I’m riding in a double R
Spead your cheese with your people, gotta feed the scar
I bought my momma and my brothers, them, another car
At first I’m playing with this shit but now I’m going hard
It’s like my baby momma feel like she the superstar
I threw away the Fossil watch and bought an Audemars
Was in the [?] now I’m riding in the luxury car
I was off the chain, now I’m yanking on the charge
I was riding Suzuki, ayy
Now I’m acting boujee, ayy
Now I’m [?] for it
I’m just ’bout my music
No more shooting
[?] popping wheelies on the bench
Can’t be thugging no more, homie, I stay in a mansion
I’m on Mollys and the Xannies feeling extravagant
Took my off the ugly corner, I’m riding panoramic
Hate the way I’m transitioning, I’m caught for thugging
This when I was headfirst, I wasn’t getting no money

Tags Kodak Black, PJ

Lyrics

Boost my ego – Kodak Black feat. Future lyrics

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date July 30, 2017
No Comments on Boost my ego – Kodak Black feat. Future lyrics

Lyrics Kodak Black – Boost my ego

It’s that project baby
.. fit in, you know what I mean
They ‘gon try take your bands and this money
S**t coming in fast
They know we ain’t got a blueprint of this s**t
We just came into this s**t (boost my ego).

Baby mama flies in
She don’t get no pardon
Boosting up my ego, made me go my hardest
Took me out the PJ, put me in a mansion
Break my pill down three ways, made me feel outstanding
Panamera these days, used to ride the ..
Rover .., I trap out the spot
Her mans ..
Keep my doggy straight
Kodak ’bout to raid
So many beat the case.

All I know, I didn’t steal
I buried all the credit cards
She won’t have me in the kitchen, selling hard and doing fraud
Took me out the ‘jects now I’m flying private jets, nigga
Remember snatching chains, I got my own around my neck, nigga
I caught five kidnapping, but I ain’t no babysitter
I caught five kidnapping, how you let me take you, nigga
Posted on the ugly, jump out go to busting
My baby mama dusting, I’m a little one out here, ..
Skrrt, skrrt, pull up in a Vert, call it a pull .., ayy
Pull up in a Wraith, they be like “Who is that”?
Pulling up in luxury, thank God, ain’t no more struggling
I’m rolling and I be duffeling
You under arrest, I’m cuffing it.

I just beat the case, I’m riding in a double R
Spead your cheese with your people, gotta feed the scar
I bought my momma and my brothers, them, another car
At first I’m playing with this s**t but now I’m going hard
It’s like my baby momma feel like she the superstar
I threw away the Fossil watch and bought an Audemars
Was in the .. now I’m riding in the luxury car
I was off the chain, now I’m yanking on the charge
I was riding Suzuki, ayy
Now I’m acting boujee, ayy
Now I’m .. for it
Versuri-lyrics.info
I’m just ’bout my music
No more shooting
.. popping wheelies on the bench
Can’t be thugging no more, homie, I stay in a mansion
I’m on Mollys and the Xannies feeling extravagant
Took my off the ugly corner, I’m riding panoramic
Hate the way I’m transitioning, I’m caught for thugging
This when I was headfirst, I wasn’t getting no money.

Tags Kodak Black, PJ

Lyrics

Meek Mill – Ball Player Lyrics

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date July 22, 2017
No Comments on Meek Mill – Ball Player Lyrics

[Verse 1: Meek Mill]
Yeah, fuck up a check (fuck it up)
I might go flood the Patek
I’m at the jeweler, 200 in cash
I tell that nigga to bust at my neck
I’m with your bitch and she bustin’ it down
Bustin’ it open, we bustin’ at necks
I let it go when I bust in her mouth
She come in the kitchen, you love her to death (ew)
Kickin’ that shit like Bruce Lee
Zone, zone, zone, no 2, 3
I won’t fuck her shoes cheap
Stacking that paper like loose leaf
Pull up in the hood, we too deep
Big Maybach, like ‘scuse me
My friends they like uzis
I don’t play with no goofy’s
Hell no!

[Verse 2: Quavo]
Pickin’ up dope with the U-Haul (dope)
Wrist cold like Utah (burr)
Waterboy, foosball (water)
Waterboy, foosball (water, let’s go)
I bet you niggas can’t re-up (no)
Swimmin’ in dope with my knees up (dope)
Migo gang, streets need us
DreamChasers, streets need us
Put that pot in that stove, watch it come back yay
Keep your eye on that road, when you’re pushin’ yay
Extra percent for my assassin
Tell my shooters, “Do ’em nasty”
No witness, no evidence (no evidence)
Put ’em all in a casket

[Chorus: Quavo]
Pulled off in an Aston
Ten hoes in a mansion
Only two of ’em natural, other eight all plastic
They don’t wanna go to college
But their brain intelligent
Make me wanna do the Heisman
Wanna drink the white medicine
Ball player, ball player
Crib in the Himalayas
Put my bitch in the streets
You put your bitch on the shelves
Big weight, fish scales
Blue bird in the mail
Feelin’ like Blue’s Clues
Here come the mail, I wanna yell

[Bridge: Quavo]
Here come the mail, I wanna yell
Here come the mail, I wanna yell
Here come the mail, I wanna yell
Here come the mail, I wanna yell

[Verse 3: Meek Mill]
Gang, gang, gang!
Shipping them packs through the FedEx
Send it, just give me ya address
Handling shipping, we charge you
Price up and down like it’s NASDAQ
Scoop a supermodel in the Murcielago, hit her, make her take a cab back
You put your bitch on shelf nigga, I make my hoe bring that cash back
Put that Pyrex on the stove, water whip, 28 Jump! Yeah!
Trap house boomin, Feds at the door, nigga like “what do they want?!” Yeah!
We shooting dice on a PJ, I put ya bitch in a 3 way
I hit her up for the replay and she bring it back like a DJ

[Chorus: Quavo]
Pulled off in an Aston
Ten hoes in a mansion
Only two of ’em natural, other eight all plastic
They don’t wanna go to college
But the brain intelligent
Make me wanna do the Heisman
When I drink the right medicine
Ball player, ball player
Crib in the Himalayas
Put my bitch in the streets
You put your bitch on the shelves
Big weight, fish scales
Blue bird in the mail
Feelin’ like Blue’s Clues
Here come the mail, I wanna yell
Pulled off in an Aston
Ten hoes in a mansion
Only two of ’em natural, other eight all plastic
They don’t wanna go to college
But the brain intelligent
Make me wanna do the Heisman
When I drink the right medicine
Ball player, ball player
Crib in the Himalayas
Put my bitch in the streets
You put your bitch on the shelves
Big weight, fish scales
Blue bird in the mail
Feelin’ like Blue’s Clues
Here come the mail, I wanna yell

Tags Big Maybach, Bruce Lee, NASDAQ, PJ

Lyrics

Tyga – Feel Me (Bitch I’m The Shit 2 Album)

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date July 21, 2017
No Comments on Tyga – Feel Me (Bitch I’m The Shit 2 Album)

[Intro: Tyga & Kanye West]
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Aye this shit gotta be club
Car and pussy at the highest level, nigga
Ah! Bitch, I’m the shit, feel me?
Them niggas ain’t this, feel me?
911 on my wrist, feel me?
Not the time but the whip, bitch, feel me?

[Chorus: Tyga & Kanye West]
I like my bitches thick, you gotta feel me
"Happy birthday, here’s a Benz," feel me?
First, last name rich, feel me?
Yeah, bitch, I’m the shit, feel me?
We at the highest level, yeah I know you feel me
I’m at the dealership like what’s the dealy?
Usher Raymond chain, it’s too chilly
Usher Raymond chain, it’s too chilly!

[Verse 1: Tyga]
I need my cash money
A milli, a milli, a milli, a milli
These bitches is litty, my niggas is litty
We lit up the city, you feel me?
My hitters is humble, we hit up the city
Then skrrt off and eat in a Bentley
Take her shoppin’
Can’t get that python through customs
Hundred K for the PJ, fuck it
Garment bags, no luggage, feel me?
Getting money, you relate, feel me?
Bank account liftin’ weights, feel me?
Let my niggas through the gate, feel me?
Bel-Air estates (huh!)
Hansen’s with the cake
I’m hands on with that cake
I need my bitches A1
I got a lot at stake, feel me?

[Chorus: Tyga & Kanye West]
We at the highest level, yeah I know you feel me
I’m at the dealership like what’s the dealy?
Usher Raymond chain, it’s too chilly
Usher Raymond chain, it’s too chilly!
Kim K thick, you gotta feel me
At the dealership like what’s the dealy?
Usher Raymond chain, it’s too chilly!
Usher Raymond chain, it’s too chilly!

[Verse 2: Kanye West]
Flew in for the fight, that’s that thug life
Pac sittin’ shotgun next to Suge Knight
Coogi, Coogi, Coogi, Coogi on
Feels like I’m in the movie, holmes
Texted my Consigliere
Tell the maid leave the Jacuzzi on
(Who you tryna get crazy with? Don’t you know I’m loco?)
That Calabasas ‘cross the sweatshirt
I wear it to a meetin’ like a dress shirt
Top shotta put the pressure
Jamaican nigga with the mesh shirt
There’s levels to my retail
The devil’s in the detail
Niggas be typin’ hard as hell
Goin’ heavy metal on the email
Niggas be so emo
Catch feelings like a female
Get quiet as a church mouse
Phone soundin’ like a seashell
Niggas get so choked up
I had to bring back the Spreewells, hahaha

[Outro: Kanye West & Tyga]
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Usher Raymond chain, it’s too chilly
Usher Raymond chain, it’s too chilly!
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah

Tags Ah Bitch, PJ, Suge Knight, Usher Raymond