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Lyrics

Macklemore – The Club lyrics

[Verse 1]
Thank God it’s Friday
Got my paycheck and I’m going home
Leaving my job, on the highway, turn up my stereo
Because last weekend sucked
But this one’s gonna be different
Because it’s fucking Friday, I’m getting drunk and we gonna kick it
Then my friend’s like, “Hey man, what’s going on?” (“I don’t know”)
We all know though that we’re gonna get drunk at the club
Get it crunk to the same shit we did the week before
Meet at the store
Free funking in my house
In high school it was drinking games
Bad house parties in Ike’s house
But now we go on the town
We gotta hit the club
We gotta spend them bucks
And we gotta get it crunk
Seven for a drink and fifteen cash at the entrance
And thank heavens Wells Fargo’s got overdraft protection
We walked up in
Yes, they’re spinning R.Kelly’s remix to the remix about a chick and skeeted on her belly
The females (woop, woop) they’re done and there’re plenty
I got two dollars… ah, charge it, bartender a round of Henny!

[Hook]
We’re going to the club, club
Pour me another one, gotta get numb, numb
Hopefully end up with a girl I can fuck, fuck
Oops, baby you know that I meant love, love
Who’s coming with me back to my tub, tub?
“Now, Macklemore, you know you ain’t got no hot tub, man,” tub, tub
Shut up man, she don’t know us, us
Everybody toast your glasses, tonight’s the best night ever
Now who’s getting hammered?

[Verse 2]
I’m on the wall drunk as fuck
Like this sucks, I’m hella bored
Decided to cut the rug with a female, like stellar on the floor
Break her off her stiletto, sore
Thought she was Puerto Rican, started talking
I’m like, “Woops, it’s a honky, she’s just hella orange”
My homie’s like, “Mack, what you tell her for? She was feeling you”
“Dawg, I could peel her foo, this is Washington not Florida”
The white girls are looking for some big black dick
The black girls are all, “Yeah he’s cute for a white guy, but that’s about it”
Asians kicking with Asians
And the Latinos are too beautiful
Wish I could confidently be like, “Girl you don’t know what I could do to you”
Get her back to the pad and probably bust in my pants
She’d be like, “Ooh, ah, pappy,” I’d be like… sorry
Think I’mma buy you a drink? Better find you a shrink
(“I’m rich bitch, psych”)
I sling CDs and grind tapes, bet your boyfriend can’t spit
Get the clit to vibrate
I should have stayed home, I get more chicks on MySpace

[Hook]

[Verse 3]
There’s that sweaty girl (sweaty girl)
In the corner on e-bomb
Thinking she’s in a Missy video but really looks like a retard
And there’s the wall muggers (wall muggers)
That shout just to seem hard
And there’s the ball suckers (ball suckers)
That fight and just seem odd
I spent seventy-five dollars and these drinks don’t work
Who the hell’s this ugly, taint skank?
Why are my friends in pink shirts?
My hat’s too big
My air-force’s were clean when I came here
Now they’re stained in beer
And who peed on my white tee?
I thought this was the spot, I was supposed to get jocked
There’s a dude talking on chickens and they’re clucking for cocks
Funny thing is, we’re all insecure
That’s why we call the bartender and tell him to give us a beer
Until our judgement is blurred and little voices slush and they slur
We getting faded, waking up hungover and going to work
Do it every weekend, this is the life
You better peep it
And it ain’t no secret the club sucks, but do we go?
Better believe it!

[Hook]

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Lyrics

Tech N9ne – Brand New Hunnids (feat. Jl, Rittz & Frizz) (Uncensored)

[Hook: Frizz]
Ay, ay
I’ma keep it real like a brand new hunnid
Ay
‘Bout that life, I ain’t ever ran from it
Ay
Everywhere I go I try to get to the money
Ay
Everywhere I go I try to get to the money

[Verse 1: Rittz]
I’ve been feeling like Pablo in the Wells Fargo
I ain’t here to talk about a car loan
Pockets on my cargo shorts full of money
And a duffel bag stuffed full, hard to keep the zipper on the top closed
You can barely pay a car note
Why you mad at me because your credit score low
I done gone broke but I bounced back
Leaning on the counter while she look at my account
Can I have a lollipop though
Runnin’ game flirtin’ with the bank teller
I can tell she thinking I’m a cocaine dealer
I got cash ’cause I rap, I don’t trap
I was hurting when I didn’t have money, now the paper like a painkiller
The internet say I’m worth four mil
It used to be a way worse ordeal
No more dollar menu orders, eating four course meals
Thought I was a winner look at what the scoreboard said
Forrest Gump with the ends on the cat running
On the way to make a milli you can bet on me
You sitting still like a crash test dummy
Like you got a check coming
Tryna flash, you ain’t got Tech money
You ain’t ever live lavish, tryna be Travis
You ain’t ever built like that
You been living in a fantasy knowing that you can’t achieve
I’ma tell you real life fast
Keep it real like that
Yeah

[Hook: Frizz]
I’ma keep it real like a brand new hunnid
Ay
‘Bout that life, I ain’t never ran from it
Ay
Everywhere I go I try to get to the money
Ay, ay
Everywhere I go I try to get to the money
Ay
I’ma keep it real like a brand new hunnid
Ay
‘Bout that life, I ain’t never ran from it
Ay
Everywhere I go I try to get to the money
Ay
Everywhere I go I try to get to the money

[Verse 2: Tech N9ne]
Get some big ones, shit comes, quick son ditch ’em
‘Cause they gonna get to begging from the rich one
For the money for tummy, booty, and they tits done
Cross yo neck with a razor
For the fetty when they see you livin’ major
How they comin’ for money ya job paid ya
When not even one of them did a little bit of labor
With them brand new hunnids
Damn you done it
Not a way somebody can ever ban you from it
How can you stomach
The poverty I hit the lottery
So when you go in the pile can you plummet
Damn you stuntin’
On the land when you expand the grands
They gonna stand who run it and the jam you brung it
Comin’ from all the fans the Kansas City man do gun it
Take all the paper don’t let the paper take ya
Big money maker you’re gonna wait to vapor
From all the haters they wanna waste ya
Like a trip when they hit a gallon of Jäger
Off with the money is why they shoot ya
‘Cause they jealous they makin’ the shotty juice ya
I ain’t slippin’ or givin’ nobody boosters
I keep the brim a hunnid ’cause Tech is a crowded poosta
Nigga, ay

[Hook: Frizz]
I’ma keep it real like a brand new hunnid
Ay
‘Bout that life, I ain’t never ran from it
Ay
Everywhere I go I try to get to the money
Ay, ay
Everywhere I go I try to get to the money
Ay
I’ma keep it real like a brand new hunnid
Ay
‘Bout that life, I ain’t never ran from it
Ay
Everywhere I go I try to get to the money
Ay
Everywhere I go I try to get to the money

[Verse 3: JL]
Like a brand new hunnid dollar bill
When they put the light to me they will know that I’m real
I’ma get to the money
But I give ’em what they can build in it
Rock at the rigorous on the go without a chill
We two up, it’s too much money to be made
Too much money for me to ever be a slave
Too much money for me to not wanna get out of the bed and go get it
Somebody already gettin’ paid
It don’t matter if you rappin’ or thuggin’, be stackin’ or pluggin’
It’s either you are slackin’ or pumpin’, how bad do you want it?
Look even if you hover at the oven and you wrapping a couple of ’em
Moving two by fours like Jim Duggan, you buggin’
If you don’t got the lucrative hustle
Looking for loot producing part of productive ’cause you
Gotta be tough and plus you gotta do what you must do
Throw it when you win, they will son the rustle
I see hawks when I see these thots, and I read thoughts
Let them wonder ‘bout the bread
He financially flaunts cause he know what she wants
Let alone fucks I give ’em the photo cred
Even though I do collect the dough, I haven’t changed yet
Never quit, never sit waiting for a paycheck
To the paid jet, then get lifted like a weight set
With a loud pack, hit a chronic like a Dre set
Jay high that’s a safe bet

[Hook: Frizz]
I’ma keep it real like a brand new hunnid
Ay
‘Bout that life, I ain’t never ran from it
Ay
Everywhere I go I try to get to the money
Ay, ay
Everywhere I go I try to get to the money
Ay
I’ma keep it real like a brand new hunnid
Ay
‘Bout that life, I ain’t never ran from it
Ay
Everywhere I go I try to get to the money
Ay
Everywhere I go I try to get to the money

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Lyrics

Meek Mill – These Scars Lyrics

[Verse 1: Meek Mill]
When I was on ‘gram entertaining all the rap beefs
We was on the hood goin’ to war on the backstreets
Bulletproof Caddy like who said they gon’ get at me
Pull up in your hood, niggas running like a track meet
No more Rollies, I’m just buying more properties
Young niggas watching me, give ’em that game properly
Past go twice, skip jail, build a monopoly
Don’t let ’em trick you outta your spot
Nigga you gotta be retard or you could treat me out this new Gallardo
Since I been gettin’ it, ain’t miss a season from Ricardo
Tisci when they see me, know me at Wells Fargo
Still rappin’ like it’s no tomorrow
So I don’t have to stand, let me borrow
And let you in my circle, but that’s coming with a cost though
You don’t work, you gon’ starve yo
Dime in the crib, tip-toeing on the marble
Rockin’ all this ice, I’m just tryna hide my scars tho
Somethin’ bout that Wraith and them lights, how them stars glow
Give me motivation, out in Miami, know the Haitians
All the hitters got the bitches and I’m MMG
A legend on Collins how they gon’ remember me
Young niggas

[Chorus: Guordan Banks]
The land they gave us was always ours
Don’t close the door, you owe us more, uhh
I know that it’s hard to face reality, mm
And when they changed, they were all surprised but me
And we buy Wraiths to hide behind these stars, yeah
And we rock all this ice just to hide these scars
If you never seen a dream fade away behind all these bars
And only god can touch your soul behind all these bars, oh

[Verse 2: Future]
Patek on, iced out, yeah yeah (yeah yeah)
Hundred rounds, brrr, spend live by (brr)
Drankin’ purple lean, fuck my sky dive
Ridin’ in them Wraiths like a shotta (skrrt skrrt)
Skipped out of school, whipped a deuce to a four
Chanel on my whore, got the marble on my floor
Ten year deal just to wear Diadora
I secure the bag first round, that’s of course
Cocaina white inside, that’s a Porsche
Came from the gutter, nigga trapping is a sport
Young nigga don’t spray the drum in the court
That’s the Actavis, pop the seal like a cork
They running out of info, making rumours, what’s your source?
Friends turned to foes, niggas leavin’ me no choice
Hoes gettin’ exposed, make a nigga cut them short
Hit a few licks before I made it out of choice

[Chorus: Guordan Banks]
The land they gave us was always ours
Don’t close the door, you owe us more, uhh
I know that it’s hard to face reality, mm
And when they changed, they were all surprised but me
And we buy Wraiths to hide behind these stars, yeah
And we rock all this ice just to hide these scars
If you never seen a dream fade away behind all these bars
And only god can touch your soul behind all these bars, oh

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Lyrics

21 Savage – Dead People (Issa Album)

[Verse 1]
I’ma handle business
S600 big body and it’s tinted, just to handle business
Percocets they got me in my feelings
I drive that Range Rover like it’s rented
Hit ’em in the face, ‘fore you turn state
Gotta beat the case, we gon’ fuck your bae
We gon’ beat her face
Walked out of Wells Fargo and ran to Chase
Hopped out a Bentley truck and jumped inside the Wraith
Young Savage, I was trappin’ on the back street
All in traffic with that ratchet on the backseat
From the gutter, fake models don’t attract me
Got a project bitch, she love to get nasty

[Chorus]
I been drinkin’ syrup since Denny’s
Gotta keep it on me, niggas schemin’
Right pocket full of dead people
I been hangin’ with the dead people
I been hangin’ with the dead people
I been hangin’ with the dead people
All my pockets full of dead people
I done fell in love with dead people

[Verse 2]
Bitch you gettin’ comfortable, I don’t need you
You come around the gang, we might G you
She say don’t nobody fuck her like we do
You know I share everything with my people
My jewelry twinkle twinkle
Doin’ donuts in the foreign while it sprinkles
You keep callin’, I’m ignoring, bitch I’m single
You keep callin’, bitch I’m single like a pringle
You know I’m fly like G4
Bitch you riding in a pinto
Bitch you know your nigga lame like the Winslows
I’m 21 but you know PDE my kin folk

[Chorus]
I been drinkin’ syrup since Denny’s
Gotta keep it on me, niggas schemin’
Right pocket full of dead people
I been hangin’ with the dead people
I been hangin’ with the dead people
I been hangin’ with the dead people
All my pockets full of dead people
I done fell in love with dead people

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Lyrics

Jessi‚ Microdot‚ Dumbfoundead & Lyricks – K.B.B (가위바위보)

[Intro: Jessi]
누가 먼저 가위바위보, 누가 먼저 가위바위보
누가 먼저 가위바위보, 누가 먼저 가위바위보

[Verse 1: Dumbfoundead]

Microdot, half the YOX
And one bad man, I’m a 나쁜 남자
I should go first, 내가 먼저 해야지
덤파형은 바쁘니깐
I wear my beanies like Gil from Leessang
피쳐 할 때는 진짜 비싸
But these my bros from west to east side
If you ain’t my bro then fuck the peace sign
Like 가위바위보
Your bitch got my wifi code
Im rich bitch my life dope, yeah
Lit like a night light, 잘자
Nothin’ like a nightlife, quite like Seoul
All of my bitches they stay out in Sinsa
I switch up the girls 들을 이차
Drop ’em all off in a 빈 차애
90 degrees when they 인사
Kick it with nothing but real heads
Cause I ain’t got time for no bullshit
Bottom of shoes lookin’ real red
Like 아저씨 drinkin’ at 술집
I got a visa from here to Ibiza
We puttin’ in work, work, work
Rock paper scissors, I guess I’m the winner
So let me go first, 가위바위보

[Hook: Jessi]
누가 먼저 가위바위보, 누가 먼저 가위바위보 [x4]

[Verse 2: Lyricks]
I took a red eye
And landed, showered
Then met up with Micro, Dummy, got 배달
And jumped in the rover, then sped up to Cheonho
Jessi came through the studio
And turned it into mother fuckin’ 1OAK
Yall know, my Wells Fargo lookin’
Like a 한국 전화번호 (digits)
Bad rap, we the illest independent homie, that’s that
Master of ceremony, bring the cash back
Pound a 40 like a hashtag
Step to us get ur ascap’d
Big numbers when I do that show
I-95 how I move that dope
I got drive, NY to Seoul
It’s the YOX for the few that know
Yeah, Rollin’ with the YOX
We the best it gets lonely on the top
No stress cuz’ I’m homies with the dot
No rest, 넌 벌써 졸리냐
Weak boy
Lemme set it straight, lemme educate
Lemme give a taste, let me embed it inside of your mind
So every time you hear me sayin’ that I’m one of the greats
I’m not sayin’ it to finish a rhyme motherfucker

[Hook: Jessi]
누가 먼저 가위바위보, 누가 먼저 가위바위보 [x4]

[Verse 3: Microdot]
누가 먼저 가위바위보
From buses to drivin’ that Rove
Mom now drippin’ and cookin’ in gold
Makin’ that music and bakin’ that soul
Cake, cake, cake, so much cake
We could run a baking sale
AK, AK
That’s that Auckland city lifestyle
That’s game boy, that major league
Self-made, no lottery
40,000 feet up in the air (up in the air)
No economy
Going coast to coast, to shows to shows
Don’t mean to brag and boast my nose
My success came with no strings
Attached, I’m my own boss
Talkin’ bout bars, no snickers
And no not the one under my zippers
I cut and paste, and rearrange man
I go dumb dumb with my lyrics
Bitches be bitchin and jealousy be hittin’
Them kittens like the Kardashians
내가 뭘 하고 어딜 가던
얼마 벌고 어디애다 쓰건
Don’t worry bout me, I’m makin’ a livin’
Nothin’ came free, nada was given
Young fat boy straight outta New Zealand
Feelin’ good vibes, Dumb, Rick and Million
About to play a game, rock paper scissors
Three dope boys, yes we the trillest
No new friends, this is family business
Oh, and my sister, Jessi

[Hook: Jessi]
누가 먼저 가위바위보, 누가 먼저 가위바위보 [x4]

[Outro: Jessi]
가위바위보, 가위바위보, 가위바위, I said
가위바위보, 가위바위보, 가위바위
가위바위보, 가위바위보, 가위바위, I said

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Lyrics

YO GOTTI – Castro lyrics

(Yeah) Castro
Whoa, whoa, whoa (yeah)
Cubans on me like I’m Castro (yeah)
Bitches like I’m Castro, yah
Kickin’ bitches like I’m Castro (whoa)
Cuban cigar nigga
Spanish chick, JLo
Dope money, Pablo
The double cross you up, eyeball
Castro, Castro, Castro

Cubans on me like I’m Castro
Hit your bitch with a backstroke
Spanish bitch, JLo
Dope money, Pablo
Astronaut, take off
John Travolta (face off)
In the kitchen, have a bake off
She gon’ snort her whole damn face off
Cubans on me like I’m Castro
Hit your bitch with a backstroke
Spanish bitch, JLo
Dope money, Pablo
Astronaut, take off
John Travolta (face off)
In the kitchen, have a bake off
She gon’ snort her whole damn face off

EA Sports, I’m in the Playoffs (in the game)
I’m in Saks goin’ AWOL
I’m at Neimans goin’ AWOL
Hit your bitch in the Aloft
Head cool, but the pussy wack
Wanna unfuck her, get her pussy back
Cuban on your boy, I’m Castro
Hit your bitch with a backstroke
Medellín, Pablo
Money bags, Wells Fargo
Call my driver, where the car go?
100 thousand in my cargo
I get dope by the cargo
I got whips, no car note
I got whips, no slave
All my cribs got maids
All my cribs like a maze
Shit so big, they amazed
Still thuggin’, they amazed
Put me on a track with ‘Ye
In the kitchen rocking ‘Ye’s
In the trenches with the Js
Feds listenin’, we don’t do the phone
They record everythin’ we say

Cubans on me like I’m Castro
Hit your bitch with a backstroke
Spanish bitch, JLo
Dope money, Pablo
Astronaut, take off
John Travolta (face off)
In the kitchen, have a bake off
She gon’ snort her whole damn face off
Cubans on me like I’m Castro
Hit your bitch with a backstroke
Spanish bitch, JLo
Dope money, Pablo
Astronaut, take off
John Travolta (face off)
In the kitchen, have a bake off
She gon’ snort her whole damn face off

Quavo, honcho
My life like Pablo
Cuban hoes fall in love with a nigga
They’ll treat me like Fabio
Off white like shell toes
Stick to the money, velcro
Standin’ on the top ropes
Then I jump down, hit you with the elbow
Why do the birds need a plane if they can fly?
I be standin’ in the field with the fire
So many onions in the trap, make me cry
My styrofoam got more oil than Dubai
Ridin’ round with extendo
Ridin’ round with extendo
Never, never, serve ya kinfolk
Never, never, serve ya kinfolk
Niggas shootin’ out the window
Niggas shootin’ at your window
Yeah, you better keep your head low
Feds watchin’, better lay low

Cubans on me like I’m Castro
Hit your bitch with a backstroke
Spanish bitch, JLo
Dope money, Pablo
Astronaut, take off
John Travolta (face off)
In the kitchen, have a bake off
She gon’ snort her whole damn face off

Anti lame nigga
Take your girl like a pain killer
Just saw a picture of your first baby mama
Look like a train hit her
Can’t finesse me, I’m the finest
AKA, it’s your Highness
I don’t know if she got a snort habit
Or the bitch got sinus
Pyrex tried to sign us
Bakin’ soda tryna sign us
Got a red stove and a gold fork
Shit lookin’ like the ‘9’ers
Told shawty, you a minus
And I say it out of kindness
Cuban links change the climate
Dick tall, she can climb it
Sold so many damn bags
I coulda went diamond
Watch wristband diamond
On my neck look diamond
Simon says nigga stop takin’ my shit
Nigga, start rhymin’
4 rings like an Audi
Hotel suite, cloudy

Cubans on me like I’m Castro
Hit your bitch with a backstroke
Spanish bitch, JLo
Dope money, Pablo
Astronaut, take off
John Travolta (face off)
In the kitchen, have a bake off
She gon’ snort her whole damn face off

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Lyrics

Salma Slims – Ghetto Girls Dream (Ghetto Girl Dream Mixtape) letras

[Intro]
Ghe-ghe-ghetto girl’s dream
Ghe-ghe-ghetto girl’s dream
Ghe-ghe-ghetto girl’s dream

[Hook]
Now this a ghetto girl’s dream
Now this a ghetto girl’s dream
Now this a ghetto girl’s dream
Now this a ghetto girl’s dream
Now this a ghetto girl’s dream
Now this a ghetto girl’s dream
Now this a ghetto girl’s dream
Now this a ghetto girl’s dream
[Verse 1]
I was broke and didn’t have it
Now the money automatic
Salma, last name savage
I’ve been movin’ like an addict
Most said I couldn’t do it so I had to get up off my ass
This job shit was my 9 to 5 for my first Burkin bag
Now I’m baggin’ money like a zipper
Jeans with the gold zipper
My fashion lit and these hoes hate but I see the bigger picture
I ain’t really used to understand but I’m seein’ everything clear
I’m switchin’ gear in my lane hopin’ these hoes stop and stare

[Hook]
Now this a ghetto girl’s dream
Now this a ghetto girl’s dream
Now this a ghetto girl’s dream
Now this a ghetto girl’s dream
Now this a ghetto girl’s dream
Now this a ghetto girl’s dream
Now this a ghetto girl’s dream
Now this a ghetto girl’s dream

[Verse 2]
Let me tap in my favorite wing
Growin’ up I wanted finer things
I ain’t really into fake hoes, I ain’t really into friends
I ai’nt relaly into lame niggas I just really want a Benz
Penny Proud done came up
Wells Fargo got ranned up
My last nigga got jammed up
The credit cards got scammed up
Everybody wanna know us now but they ain’t even got the sauce
Why everybody wanna come around but they don’t wanna play they part?

[Hook]
Now this a ghetto girl’s dream
Now this a ghetto girl’s dream
Now this a ghetto girl’s dream
Now this a ghetto girl’s dream
Now this a ghetto girl’s dream
Now this a ghetto girl’s dream
Now this a ghetto girl’s dream
Now this a ghetto girl’s dream

[Outro]
Ghe-ghe-ghetto girl’s dream
Ghe-ghe-ghetto girl’s dream