Tag: Uncle Phil

Lyrics

Mir Fontane – Ben Simmons Lyrics

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date January 19, 2020

One of them not gon’ make it through the summer! You think they want you to win? Look to your left, now look to your right! As soon as you leave this classroom, you a target, my nigga! (Yeah)
Traded in the crown for a pocket full of grams
Leveled up to dope, she dozin’ off on her exams
Rehab money, supposed to be for college plans
f**k a blue pill, I’m in love with blue bills
City full of Will’s, we ain’t got no Uncle Phil’s
Youngins catchin’ bodies, keepin’ count just for the thrill
They gon’ leave you froze if you don’t find somewhere to chill, Yeah and I-
[Chorus]
Feel like Ben Simmons with the pen
Young nigga ballin’ way above the rim (Ballin’ way above the rim)
Know that they don’t wanna see you win
I spend the summer gettin’ money with my friends (Gettin’ money with my friends)
Yeah, only for so long you can pretend
‘Cause real niggas always win in the end, yeah
Don’t know when I’ma see ’em all again
I spend the summer gettin’ money with my friends, yeah
[Outro]
All the money with my friends
All the money with my friends
All the money that I can
Ooh, ooh, yeah, yeah, yeah
Ayy, I got it, trust me, I got it, uh
I got it, ayy, yeah, trust me, I got it
I got it, trust me, I got it, ooh
Ooh, ooh, yeah
Uh, mmm
The system’s not set up for you to win! [Intro]
Mmm, mmm, yeah
Ayy
[Chorus]
Feel like Ben Simmons with the pen
Young nigga ballin’ way above the rim (Ballin’ way above the rim)
Know that they don’t wanna see you win
I spend the summer gettin’ money with my friends (Gettin’ money with my friends)
Yeah, only for so long you can pretend
‘Cause real niggas always win in the end, yeah (Always win in the end)
Don’t know when I’ma see ’em all again (Ayy)
I spend the summer gettin’ money with my friends (Ayy, ooh)
[Verse]
Yesterday I had a dream
That me and all my niggas got the cream
Makin’ fifty Million dollars off of streams
And everything was cool
And everyone was there except for you
You sent a text, said you had better things to do
Miss Queen Petty with a back full of jelly (Oh yeah)
Only stand 5’4″, but she talk so heavy (Yeah)
Momma said, “Life’s like a box of chocolates”
Daddy said, “It ain’t trickin’ if you got it”
If you’re good at it, better do it for a profit
Gotta feed your pockets, you know the streets watchin’
House party poppin’, so niggas start poppin’
This around the time when homicide’s common
And have you ever seen a prom queen off Xans?

Tags Miss Queen Petty, Uncle Phil, Yeah Momma, Yeah Traded

Lyrics

Joyner Lucas & Chris Brown – Stranger Things lyrics

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date May 3, 2018
No Comments on Joyner Lucas & Chris Brown – Stranger Things lyrics

[Verse 1: Chris Brown]
Bottles in a bucket full of ice (yeah)
Better make room, vroom, hear the Lambo (celebrate)
Bitch, better believe that I’m a sniper (yeah)
You know I’m ’bout to take you from your man though (celebrate)
Pop up with the chopper at artificial niggas actin’ like bitches
It done started up a epidemic
They don’t make a difference, nigga we winnin’, I’m plenty grinnin’
Hunnid million platinum, fuck it, you ain’t gotta listen (celebrate)
You better step down to me
Feel the dick, bitch, open up your mouth for me
Now choke, talk to the dick, honestly
I’m dope, bitch, comin’ like Eenie Meenie Miney Mo (celebrate)
I don’t like when I lose (I don’t)
If I don’t buy her them shoes, I don’t like those (regulate)
Do anything that I want to
Think I’m gon’ dance on the moon like Michael (elevate)

[Verse 2: Joyner Lucas & Chris Brown]
While I’m drivin’, I’m moonwalkin’ in the sky with some shooters
We jump inside of the Buick, you duck and hide from the Rugers
A couple choppers, acoustic in the guitar with the music
Guess I’m alive and I use it, get stuck inside of the cubics
I never lie, but the truth is I’m fuckin’ tired of these losers
And all my life want the food when it’s supper time and the juice
But I’d rather die than to lose, it’s a matter of time ‘fore I lose it
And strategize with the movement-t-t-t-t-t
Walk in the trap like a boss, ooh
Ho, you know I’m drippin’ with the sauce, ooh
Pretty, with a face full of scars
All they did was build me up, try to take me apart
They ain’t ever wanna (celebrate) like you have a label
Call the doctor, heard the chopper make ’em do the Macarena
All you niggas sweet as candy, chocolate chip and Now and Later
Jolly Rancher, Snickers, bubblegum and watermelon flavored
Get the paper, I’ma (celebrate) on the corner
Heard you niggas got the juice, but I got Corona
Got a little Spanish bitch, I call her maricona
Joyner Lucas, bitch, I’m hotter than a fuckin’ sauna
Yeah, I make you niggas (elevate)
All you new niggas don’t do it for me, look (woah)
Bitch I’m a professor, you a student to me, woah
Designer shades on, like you cooler than me, wait (ayy)
All we do is win, you a loser to me
Rappers wanna talk about battle me (Joyner)
You can’t give me neck with a mouth full of cavities
Bunch of lil’ niggas tried grabbin’ me (grabbin’ me)
Five foot five, boy, you niggas like half of me
You don’t wanna see the other side of me (yeah)
Hard to make ’em happy, all these bitches stay mad at me
I just might take her out to Applebee’s (Applebee’s)
Give her long dick and a strawberry daiquiri

[Verse 3: Chris Brown & Joyner Lucas]
Order Cheesecake Factory, bubblin’, why you mumblin’?
What you utter? Stop stutterin’, what you spend? Let me double it
Lime green ‘rari, two twins, call ’em double mints
If all you pussy niggas my kids, I’m in trouble then
Shut up ‘fore I spank you for actin’ up
Now I’m wakin’ up in cabanas, ’cause you bad as fuck
And all gorillas don’t want bananas ‘less your chain is tucked
You wiggity-wack with the strap, you cross Chris, make you jump
I criss-cross with the pump, ain’t no bricks in the trunk
Leave that shit for the chumps, I still get what I want
Don’t wanna believe in my mind, but you believe in my dump
I’m takin’ a knee for my side, could give a fuck ’bout they owners
Nigga look at my eyes, you ’bout to give me my bonus
And every motherfuckin’ record, that’s a hit, I record it (celebrate)
And e’ry motherfuckin’ snitch up in this bitch, they report it (celebrate)
You paid your way for this fade and can’t even afford it
Seventy-five mil’, look at me now (celebrate)
And all these bad bitches can’t keep their feet down (elevate)
You don’t really wanna see Brown
Need to stop all that shit talkin’, put the seat down
Joyner, I don’t really feel these niggas
Hol’ up, I ain’t gotta pay to kill these niggas
Time is money, need to fuck around and bill these niggas
Vet, so I’m finna good will these niggas (celebrate)
I’ma show these niggas, I should grill these niggas
Take flex, Fresh Prince, Uncle Phil these niggas
Oh shit, I’m the shit, you could smell me, nigga
Break ribs, yeah, you don’t want no real beef, nigga
I say As-salāmu ʿalaykum when I tear apart some bacon
Ho, you actin’ like a pig, you fuckin’ filthy, nigga
Now the police tryna lock me in the prison, said, “I’m guilty”
I said, “Da da da da da, come and kill me, nigga”

[Verse 4: Joyner Lucas, Chris Brown & Both]
They must have forgot that I’m psycho (jheeze)
Oh, you want war? Say no more
Turn your fuckin’ block into a light show (Joyner)
You better be sure, better be sure
I’m the realest nigga that I know
And I’m so bored, I might switch cars
I saved a lotta money on Geico (jheeze)
The neighbors knockin’ on my door, what the fuck you want?
Bitch, I’m alright (jheeze)
Listen, nigga, mind your business, I’m so sick of niggas
Tellin’ me how I been livin’ my life (Joyner)
Sick of bumpin’ shoulders now I’m runnin’ over
Every motherfucker who ain’t wanna get in my ride
I was watchin’, you was shoppin’
Ain’t never had the shit in my size
Now I’m poppin’, I’m poppin’
And your bitch keep hittin’ my line
It’s complicated, fuckin’ up with my main bitch
Givin’ it to the side bitch at the same damn time
Puttin’ my face in it, never wastin’ it
I’ma lay in it, hit it, hit it one more time
And I’ma proceed and play with the pussy
You know I don’t keep my cape on a hoodie
But I keep a Uzi, it’s a doozie, make a movie if you’re actin’
So (celebrate)

Tags Fresh Prince, Joyner Lucas, Order Cheesecake Factory, Uncle Phil

Lyrics

Joyner Lucas & Chris Brown – Stranger Things

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date February 26, 2018
No Comments on Joyner Lucas & Chris Brown – Stranger Things

[Verse 1: Chris Brown]
Bottles and a bucket full of ice (yeah)
Better make room, vroom hear the Lambo (celebrate)
Bitch better believe that I’ma sniper (yeah)
You know I’m ’bout to take you from your man though (celebrate)
Pop up with the chopper and artificial niggas actin’ like bitches, it done started up a epidemic
It don’t make a difference, nigga, we winnin’, I’m plenty grinnin’
A hundred million platinum, fuck it, you ain’t gotta listen (celebrate)
You better step down to me, feel the dick, bitch, open up your mouth for me
Now choke, talk to the dick honestly
I’m dope, bitch, comin’ like Eenie Meenie Miney Mo (celebrate)
I don’t like when I lose (I don’t), if I don’t buy her them shoes, I don’t like those (regulate)
Do anything that I want to it, think I’m gon’ dance on the moon like Michael (elevate)

[Verse 2: Joyner Lucas & Chris Brown]
While I’m drivin’, I’m moonwalking in the sky
With some shooters, we jump inside of the Buick
You duck and hide from the Rugers
A couple choppers, acoustic and the guitar
When the music, guess I’m alive and I use it
Get stuck inside of the cubics
I never lie but the truth is
I’m fuckin’ tired of these losers
And all my life want the food
When it’s summertime and the juice
But I’d rather die than to lose
It’s a matter of time ‘fore I lose it
And strategize with the movement
Walk in the trap like a boss, ooh
Hoe, you know I’m drippin’ with the sauce, ooh
Pretty with a face full of scars, all they did was build me up
Try to take me apart, they ain’t never wanna (celebrate)
Like you have a label, call the doctor
Heard the chopper make ’em do the macarena
All you niggas sweet as candy
Chocolate chip and I relate to Jolly Ranchers
Stick to bubblegum and watermelon flavored
Get the paper, I’ma (celebrate)
On the corner
Heard you niggas got the juice, but I got Corona
Got a little Spanish bitch, I call her maricona
Joyner Lucas, bitch, I’m hotter than a fuckin’ sauna
Yeah, I make you niggas (elevate)
All you new niggas don’t do it for me, look (woah)
Bitch, I’m the professor, you a student to me, woah
Designer shades on, like you cooler than me, wait (ayy)
All we do is win, you a loser to me
Rappers wanna talk about battle me (Joyner)
You can’t give me neck with a mouth full of cavities
Bunch of lil niggas tried grabbin’ me (grabbin’ me)
Five foot five, boy, you niggas like half of me
You don’t wanna see the other side of me (yeah)
Hard to make ’em happy, all these bitches stay mad at me
I just might take her ’round to Applebee’s (Applebee’s)
Give her long dick and a strawberry daiquiri

[Verse 3: Chris Brown & Joyner Lucas]
Order Cheesecake Factory, bubblin’, why you mumblin’?
Watch you utter, stop stutterin’, what you spend? Let me double it
Lime green ‘rari, two twins, call ’em double mints
If all you pussy niggas my kids are in trouble then
Shut up before I spank you for actin’ up
Now I’m wakin’ up in cabanas ’cause she bad as fuck
And all gorillas don’t want bananas ‘less your chain is tucked
You wiggity-wack with the strap, you cross-criss, make you jump
I criss-cross with the pump, ain’t no bricks in the trunk
Leave that shit for the chumps, I still get what I want
Don’t wanna believe in my mind, but you believe in my dump
I’m takin’ a knee for my side, could give a fuck ’bout they owners
Nigga, look at my eyes, you ’bout to give me my bonus
And every motherfuckin’ record, that’s a hit, I record it (celebrate)
And every motherfuckin’ snitch up in this bitch, they reported (celebrate)
You paid your way for this fade and can’t even afford it
Seventy-five mil’, look at me now (celebrate)
And all these bad bitches can’t keep their feet down (elevate)
You don’t really wanna see Brown
Need to stop all that shit, talkin’ put the seat down
Joyner, I don’t really feel these niggas
Hol’ up, I ain’t gotta pay to kill these niggas
Time is money, need to fuck around and bill these niggas
Vet, so I’m finna good will these niggas (celebrate)
I’ma kill these niggas, I should grill these niggas
Take flex, Fresh Prince, Uncle Phil these niggas
Oh shit, I’m the shit, you could smell me, nigga
Break ribs, yeah, you don’t want no real beef, nigga
I say As-salāmu ʿalaykum when I tear apart some bacon
Hoe, you actin’ like a pig, you fuckin’ filthy, nigga
Now the police tryna lock me in the prison, said I’m guilty
I said da da da da da, come and kill me, nigga

[Verse 4: Joyner Lucas, Chris Brown & Both]
They must have forgot that I’m pyscho (jheeze)
Oh, you want war? Say no more
Turn your fuckin’ block into a light show (Joyner)
You better be sure, better be sure
I’m the realest nigga, that I know
And I’m so bored, I might switch cars
Save a lotta money on Geico (jheeze)
And neighbors knockin’ on my door, what the fuck you want?
Bitch, I’m Irak (jheeze)
Listen, nigga, mind your business
I’m so sick of niggas tellin’ me how I’ve been livin’ my life
Sick of rubbin’ shoulders, now I’m runnin’ over every motherfucker who ain’t wanna get in my ride
I was watchin’, you was shoppin’
Ain’t never had the shit in my side
Now I’m poppin’, I’m poppin’, and your bitch keep hittin’ my line
It’s complicated, fuckin’ up with my main bitch
Givin’ it to the side bitch at the same damn time
Puttin’ my face in it, never wastin’ it
I’ma lay in it, hit it, hit it one more time
And then I’ma proceed and play with the pussy
You know I don’t keep my cape on a hoodie
But I give a Uzi, it’s a doozie, make a movie if you’re actin’, so (celebrate)

Tags Jolly Ranchers, Joyner Lucas, Order Cheesecake Factory, Uncle Phil

Lyrics

Birdman & Young Thug – Lil One

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date January 30, 2018
No Comments on Birdman & Young Thug – Lil One

[Intro: Young Thug]
Yeah, yeah
Aye, yeah, yeah
Hey
We got London On Da Track
Thugger

[Hook 1: Young Thug]
Lil’ one
I want to know, how you feelin’ lil’ one (tell me, how you feel)
Tell Lil Thugger, how you feelin’ lil’ one
Hey, I need to know just, how you feel, feel, feel

[Post-Hook 1: Young Thug]
How are you feelin’ lil one, how you feelin’ lil’ one? (I just want you to tell me, I just want you to tell me)
How are you feelin’ lil’ one, how you feelin’ lil’ one (I just want you to tell me, I just want you to tell me)
I wanna know, how you feel lil’ one
Tell me just, how you feel lil’ one
Tell, tell me, tell me, tell me, tell me, just tell me (tell me)

[Bridge 1: Young Thug]
I just want you to tell me
I just want you to tell me (I’m listenin’)
I just want you to tell me (go ‘head)
I just want you to tell me
I just want you to tell me
I just want you to tell me

[Verse 1: Young Thug]
Yeah, yeah
Go ‘head and tell me, how you feel
Hey, I’m playin’ doctor just like Phil (go ‘head)
I got more syrup than Uncle Phil (ooh)
I’m almost certain that I’ma feel, hey (hey)
Screwed to the max (I’m geeked)
I swear to God, I got that coolie on a mack (graw-graw)
I ran up my bands up, now she act like a brat
She could never be a gnat (no)
I’m not talking ’bout no build
But lil’ mama gotta six pack (woo)
She workin’ on it (she, what?)
She get on top of me and work me, homie
Actin’ childish in this phantom
Lay back the curtains on it
She tryna show ’em, that she ridin’ ’round with me
And they trash, no curby, homie, oh
We might just stroll, we ain’t tryna roll
I just wanna enjoy every second
She can take it slow
I’m like oh, oh, oh, oh whoa
I’m not talkin’ bean
But she keep pigeons on her toes

[Bridge 2: Young Thug]
Aye
Thugger want you to feel it (yeah)
I just want you to feel it (yeah)
I just want you to feel it
Yeah (lil’ one, lil’ one, lil’ one)
Yeah (lil’ one, lil’ one, lil’ one, lil’ one)

[Hook 2: Young Thug]
How you feel lil’ one?
I wanna know just, how you feel lil one
Please, tell Thugger, just, how you feel lil’ one
How you feel, how you feel, how you feelin’?
How you feelin’, how you feelin’, just, how you feel

[Post-Hook 2: Young Thug]
I just want you to feel it
Blood. just want you to feel it
YSL, want you to feel it
Please
Baby girl, I wanna feel it
Please, tell me, I’m feelin’ it
Please, tell me, I’m feelin’ it, yeah

[Verse 2: Young Thug & Birdman]
She not a Crip, but her coupe blue
She not a Blood, but she eat ravioli
Wanna twist yo’ body around, I hope you know yoga
Nigga screamin’, "free Pibb" like I’m giving away soda
I don’t really talk, but I been said, "I told ya"
I’m ridin’ with the yoppa like I come from Magnolia (graw)
I just wanna bang bang like Chief Sosa (bang-bang)
It’s a shame on Stunnaman so, yeah
Tell me, how you feel, nigga
Tell me, how you feel, a nigga
Tell me, how you feel, a nigga, for real
Show you, how we dealin’, nigga
Show you, how we kill a nigga
Show you, how we illy niggas, for real
It’s chop-chop and bang-bang
It’s bang-bang and chop-chop
It’s Blood gang, we kill niggas, for real
It’s chop-chop and bang-bang
It’s Cash Money, it’s Rich Gang, it’s YSL
We kill niggas, for real
I thought I told ya
Born stunnas, we known high rollers
Bang-bang for young soldiers (I just want you to tell me)
Bang-bang for lil’ soldiers

[Outro: Young Thug]
Yeah, yeah
Go ‘head and tell me, how you feel
Hey, I’m playin’ doctor just like Phil (go ‘head)
I got more syrup than Uncle Phil (ooh)
I’m almost certain that imma feel, hey (hey)
Screwed to the max (I’m geeked)
I swear to God, I got that coolie on a mack (graw-graw)
I ran up my bands up, now she act like a brat
She could never be a gnat (no)
I’m not talking ’bout no build
But lil’ mama gotta six pack (woo)
She workin’ on it (she, what?)
She get on top of me and work me, homie
Actin’ childish in this phantom
Lay back the curtains on it
She tryna show ’em, that she ridin’ ’round with me
And they trash, no curby, homie

Tags Chief Sosa, Tell Lil Thugger, Uncle Phil, YSL

Lyrics

Dave East – You The Same (Remix)

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date December 18, 2017
No Comments on Dave East – You The Same (Remix)

[Intro]
From the set, from the turf
From the set

[Verse]
I’m from the set, yeah I’m from the turf
I just came to get you wet for what it’s worth
Go in your skirt, nothing like your last nigga
He used to go in your purse, I go in like it’s the first
And I don’t think I ever had a bad verse
I was taught that the women gon’ come, just get the cash first
That pussy be unforgettable
I hit it in the living room, she texting me at work
We ain’t too busy to giving a chase
She seen my lips, asked if she could sit it on my face
Now you buggin, you gon’ be a stripper today
There’s only one pole here and I ain’t tippin’ no cake
You got me fucked up
I ain’t passing up for you
You know you fucked the blunts up
I ain’t his father, but you gotta let my son fuck
And he got me in my mode, I had one cup
Chumped up, 10 bitches, I’m driving one truck
Wrap ’em up, they know the deal
Talking jazz, toss ’em out, I’m Uncle Phil
Fresh prince, fresh tints, call me the Wiz
Probably knockin’ Bobby Trends in the Benz
Got yo’ wifey on my pillow
I get hotter, Camelo
Out of three, I hit two of them chicks
Gettin’ head, top down
DJ Clue in the mix
And pardon my french
Matter of fact pardon my flex
I come from nothing, I don’t argue regrets
Honestly, all of this money causing all of this stress
What New York sound like when I be talkin’ to Flex
Early morning flow, Angela, Charlamagne and Envy
Waking up to dawn, I’m getting brain Lewinsky
Somebody tell Halle Berry that I’m lookin’ for her
I ain’t a chef, but I’ll be in the crib cookin’ for her
I don’t get higher, all I do is win
Compare me to Billy Bob, how I put it on her
They done let these wrong locals run the models
In my the back of mind I’m hoping that they swallow
Jump in the car and I know they gon’ follow
Ask me where I from, not far from the Apollo
You ever been to Harlem in your life?
That new nigga that got you starting problems with yo’ wife
I only had the bitch in Harlem for a night
[?] put her on this bike [?] and you was tight
Patek Philipe bring the freak out
Mami seen my wrist and started walking to the light
Unforgettable nigga

[Hook: Swae Lee]
It’s not good enough for me
Since I’ve been with you, ooh
It’s not gonna work for you
Nobody can equal me (I know)
I’m gonna sip on this drink, when I’m fucked up
I should know how to pick up
I’m gonna catch the rhythm
While she push up against me, ooh, is she tipsy?
I had enough convo for 24
I peep’d you from across the room
Pretty little body, dancin’ like GoGo, hey
And you are unforgettable
I need to get you alone (oeh)
Why not? A fuckin’ good time never hurt nobody
I got a little drink, but it’s not Bacardi
If you loved the girl, then I’m so, so sorry
I gotta give it to her like we in a marriage
Oh, like we in a hurry
No, no, I won’t tell nobody
You’re on your level too
Tryna do what lovers do

Tags Billy Bob, Halle Berry, Patek Philipe, Uncle Phil

Lyrics

Nelly – E. I. (The Tipdrill) (feat. St Lunatics) (Uncensored)

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date March 1, 2017
No Comments on Nelly – E. I. (The Tipdrill) (feat. St Lunatics) (Uncensored)

Uh.. uh uh uh uh
Uh.. wait a minute now
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
Uh, uh..
Can you hear me out there?
Lunatics.. is y’all ready?
Let me hear ya
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

I’ma sucka for corn rows and manicured toes (hey)
Fendi capri pants and Parasuco’s (alright)
Passadity ?? city, with one or two throws
I’m droppin ’em outta high school straight into the pros
Who knows? I know!
And I love it when you make your knees touch your elbows
And break it down low to the flo’, and there you go
Now throw it on me slow
And everytime I Bust a rhyme, baby "Gimme Some Mo’"
You say you like that, when I hit it from behind
And I’ll be right back; yeah that’s my very next line
I use it – time after time, when I’m speakin my mind
It’s no matter if I’m shootin game to a pigeon or dime
I ask her, "Who dat is, talkin that shit about the ‘tics?"
Somebody probably jealous cause they bitch got hit
But ain’t nobody else droppin shit like this
Should we apologize? Nah fuck ’em, just leave ’em pissed, HEY!

Andele andele mami, E.I. E.I
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh! What’s poppin’ tonight?
Andele andele mami, E.I. E.I
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh! If the head right, Nelly there ery’night

We can gamble to the break of dawn, nigga
Money long, nigga
Pass up the skirt to talk to the thong, nigga
Some say I’m wrong, but fuck it I’m grown, nigga
If you ain’t bout money then best be gone, nigga
I’m fast (uh) double takes when you walk past me
Nasty, don’t be scared boo, go ‘head and ask me
I drive fastly, call me Jeff Gord-on
In the black SS with the naviga-tion
See the joint blaz-on, somethin smells amaz-on
I got a chick rollin up, half black and asi-an
Another one pidge-on, tellin me to come home
Her husband on vacation and left her home alone
I used the V-12, powers; weight loss, powers
From +Phat Farm+ to +Iceberg Slim+ in one shower
Get a room in Trump Towers just to hit the P hours
Kicked the bitch up out the room cause she used the word ours, HEY!

Andele andele mami, E.I. E.I
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh! What’s poppin’ tonight?
Andele andele mami, E.I. E.I
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh! If the head right, Nelly there ery’night

Aiyyo I smash-mouth a whole ounce, of that sticky
Wash my hands under a gold spout, when feelin icky
Let go off in a ho’s mouth, I ain’t picky
Start frontin when the shows out – whatchu mean?!
Twenty inches when they roll ouuuuuuut – come and get me
Big faces when they fold ouuuuuuut – is you wit me?
Don’t make me pull that fo’-fo’ ouuuuuuut
I keep it closer when the dough ouuuuuuut
Then I slide up in the Escalade
Me and E gettin solid like the Ice Capades
And me and Heezy – frosty, project mo’ wrapped up than Bugsy
You understand me, wrapped wrists like mummies
If you compare me to your local grocery
Then you’ll see I got more carrots/karats than "Aisle D"
More bread than "Aisle G", then bag and scan me
+Sure+ like +Al B.+, meet the ‘tics in Maui, HEY!

Andele andele mami, E.I. E.I
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh! What’s fuckin’ tonight?
Andele andele mami, E.I. E.I
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh! If the head right, Nelly there ery’night

St. Louis y’all, uh, uh
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
Uh, can you feel that?
Lunatics y’all, uh, uh
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
Uh, uh, Uncle Phil up above y’all, uh, uh
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
Yell it universal y’all, uh, uh
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
Uh, uh, chillin chillin chillin with the crew y’all

Andele andele mami, E.I. E.I
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh! What’s poppin’ tonight?
Andele andele mami, E.I. E.I
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh! If the head right, Nelly there ery’night

Tags Ice Capades, SS, Trump Towers, Uncle Phil

Lyrics

RAE SREMMURD – Real Chill lyrics

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date December 27, 2016
No Comments on RAE SREMMURD – Real Chill lyrics

They can’t wait until we turn this bitch upside down
They can’t wait until we turn this bitch upside down

My homies the real deal, we smokin’ that kill-kill
She shake it, it feel real
The paper flowin’ still, now that bitch wanna chill
And the shit stay chill
My homies the real deal, we smokin’ that kill-kill
She shake it, it feel real
The paper flowin’ still, now that bitch wanna chill
And the shit stay chill

My homie the real deal
The big watch on, feel like Ben 10
Hell yeah nigga Slim Jxm
In this motherfucker with a big grip, bitch
Nigga get a grip
I can’t get a grip, man this bitch a flip
Walked in, throwin’ the cash like nerfs
Girl you better put that ass to work
Can a nigga hold the cam like Kirk
Big diamonds on my mouth when I burp
Big rims when I skrt-skrt
Woah, leave my prints in the dirt, yeah
Leave them broke niggas hurt, uh
I’m that nigga, fuck you heard
A young nigga so superb
A cool Herc on the Earth
Swag, yeah
Frank Lucas with a grill
All these hoes wanna chill
Must have seen a nigga skills
Pockets fat, Uncle Phil
Girls on me like Will
All the ladies love jim, for real

They tellin’ me slow down (slow down)
They gave me a chill pill (chill out)
Because I was Spend Ben (Spend Ben)
They know I would Kill Bill (hit him)
I walk round Ben still (ben still)
I’m still on them pills still (jigga-jigga)
I spit that real shit (real)
I call it real spill (real spill)
I need like 10 mil, I need to put my momma in a big crib
She be tellin’ me “baby boy don’t steal”
I ain’t listen to her cause I still steal
One snap in, I put some racks in my grill
No weapons allowed, I brought my strap in here still
All I smoke is loud yeah, it’s gon’ blast in your ear
Man I’m high as the cloud, I’m on a new atmosphere
Gotta hold my niggas down till they get back here
Don’t come over here ’cause you will get clapped here

Spittin’ game to that girl and her friend
I got dressed, left the crib, set the trend
If you ask me, it all spends
I’m from the mud and my cup needs a cleanse (let’s cleanse)
I can’t even cruise because I got a spoiler
Hit the store, buy the store, let’s not loiter (loiter)
Hit the club, need a drink, need a skank (I got it)
The club promoter said “Swae Lee you off of the chain”

Tags Frank Lucas, Slim Jxm, Swae Lee, Uncle Phil

Lyrics

Rae Sremmurd – Real Chill lyrics

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date December 27, 2016
No Comments on Rae Sremmurd – Real Chill lyrics

itemid=”http://www.directlyrics.com/rae-sremmurd-artist.html”>RAE SREMMURD Real Chill lyrics

They can’t wait until we turn this bitch upside down
They can’t wait until we turn this bitch upside down

Tags Frank Lucas, Slim Jxm, Swae Lee, Uncle Phil

Lyrics

Rae Sremmurd – Real Chill (feat. Kodak Black)

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date December 27, 2016
No Comments on Rae Sremmurd – Real Chill (feat. Kodak Black)

They can’t wait until we turn this bitch upside down
They can’t wait until we turn this bitch upside down

My homies the real deal, we smokin’ that kill, kill
She shake it, it feel real
The paper flowin’ still, now that bitch wanna chill
Damn, this shit stay chill
My homies the real deal, we smokin’ that kill, kill
She shake it, it feel real
The paper flowin’ still, now that bitch wanna chill
Damn, this shit stay chill

My homie the real deal
The big watch on, feel like Ben 10
Hell yeah nigga Slim Jxm
In this motherfucker with a big grip, bitch
Nigga get a grip
I can’t get a grip made them benji’s flip
Walked in, throwin’ the cash like nerfs
Girl you better put that ass to work
Can a nigga hold the cam like Kurt
Big diamonds on my mouth when I burp
Big rims when I skrt-skrt
Woah, leave my prints in the dirt, yeah
Leave them broke niggas hurt, uh
I’m that nigga, fuck you heard
A young nigga sold some bird
A cool Herc on the Earth
Swag, yeah
Frank Lucas with a grill
All these hoes wanna chill
Musta seen a nigga skills
Pockets fat, Uncle Phil
Girls on me like Will
All the ladies love Jxm
Ay-ay-ay, for real

My homies the real deal, we smokin’ that kill-kill
She shake it, it feel real
The paper flowin’ still, now that bitch wanna chill
Damn, this shit stay chill
My homies the real deal, we smokin’ that kill-kill
She shake it, it feel real
The paper flowin’ still, now that bitch wanna chill
Damn, this shit stay chill

They tellin’ me slow down (slow down)
They gave me a chill pill (chill out)
Because I was spendin’ (spendin’)
They know I would Kill Bill (hit him)
I walk round with big steel (big steel)
I’m still on them pills still (jigga-jigga)
I spit that real shit (real)
I call it real spill (real spill)
I need like 10 mil
I need to put my momma in a big crib
She be tellin’ me "baby boy don’t steal"
I ain’t listen to her cause I still steal
Went snap in and put some racks in my grill
No weapons allowed, I brought my strap in here still
All I smoke is loud yeah, it’s gon’ blast in your ear
Man I’m high as the kite I’m on a new atmosphere
Gotta hold my niggas down till they get back here
Don’t come over here cause you will get clapped here

Tags Frank Lucas, Slim Jxm, Swae Lee, Uncle Phil