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Kevin Gates – Double Dutch Lyrics

I hope you know I ain’t just rappin’ with you
I had my back against the ropes, you started actin’ different
My nuts be hangin’ to the floor, I got that package with me
Straight off the boat, I got that dope and got to swaggin’ with it
Ay bitch, I double up, I have the gutter tucked
I bought a peppermint flip to a buttercup
I’m not ashamed to admit, shit, I love a slut
I like to hit from the back, grip the bubble butts Play this song
[Intro]
Yo Pi’erre you wanna come out here? I’m up in rank and mutual con, I got mayco and fog
I got bricks of that perico, I’m a Puerto Rico dog
They said I couldn’t kill my way to the ClearPort
But where I’m from, you want respect, you gotta kill for it
Hold up let me take this call, this lil’ bitch, her fine-ass
Put that pussy on me slow, bow-bow, grip her fine ass
Our videos, we don’t post, old hoes do the most
Me and bae made a toast, look at them like jokes
Get to turning up my nose, if they ever wanna approach
[Chorus]
Like what’s happenin’ with you? I hope you know I ain’t just rappin’ with you
I had my back against the ropes, you started actin’ different
My nuts be hangin’ to the floor, I got that package with me
Straight off the boat, I got that dope and got to swaggin’ with it
Ay bitch, I double up, I have the gutter tucked
I bought a peppermint flip to a buttercup
I’m not ashamed to admit, shit, I love a slut
I like to hit from the back, grip the bubble butts
[Verse 3]
Amsterdam, by the water, bitch, I’m in a dam with it
Used to do Camaro’s on a slab with the wham in it
Now I’m seeing things, living foreign, sippin’ teas, I’m important
Yellow thing, we recording, riding me like a ‘Rari
I’ma keep standing tall, tatted back, and I’m scarred
Like a [?], big dreams, got ’em all (Thumbin’ through it)
I’m in magazines, I don’t pour it
I’m takin’ chances, made a champion
Half of you who judge me, probably wouldn’t know what disaster was
Phone number’s platinum, I got action on the cannabis
We not like we used to, you not on my calendar
Heavy in my new coupe, no one in the passenger
[Chorus]
She like, what’s happenin’ with you? I pull up by myself solo, presidential
I got 10,000 angels with me, you know what I’m saying
[?] was knowing how I was coming
[Verse 2]
Division 9 gang members saying they gon’ fly today
I got my shirt off in this bitch, like why this bitch ain’t flyin’ yet? Ay,  please leave me alone
I’m on the Breadwinner swim team
I dived into you shit
[Verse 1]
Every  night I pray to God that the Lord forgive me
Somebody  try me and don’t top me‚ then they coming with me
You just be talkin’‚ I be stalkin’ with that mini Glizzy
You  ever cross me‚ I’ma lay you in a coffin with it
I been thuggin’ all my life, this a cold sport
Big ol’ Muslim up in rank, and I’m like Jeff Fort
[Bridge]
Bread Winner‚ big driver
Bitch,  you ain’t living like I’m living, you a dick rider
Bread Winner‚ big driver
Bitch, you ain’t living like I’m living, you a dick rider
They know we move like ghosts out here
I’m moving in the signs of these nine you heard me? Who  you talking up?

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Lyrics

Playboi Carti – Old Money Lyrics

[Intro]
Yo Pi’erre, you wanna come out here?

[Chorus]
Old money, new hoe (beep)
Old money, new hoe (what?)
Old money, new hoe (what? What?)
Old money, new hoe
Old swag, new flow
Old swag, new flow (flow flow)
Old money, new hoe (beep)
Old money new flow (flow what)

[Verse 1]
Bad bitch, love the pole (what)
Sip the four, Actavis (woah)
Sip it slow, kickin’ shit (lean, woah)
Oh Pi’erre, come in here
Got some hoes they upstairs
I need two hoes, I need two pairs (what? What?)
My chain too cold, chandelier
Pretty boy, huh, manicure
You need a code just to come in here (oh)
Only 21 feel like a bachelor (Playboi)
Pretty bitch, baddest thing in here (uh)

[Chorus]
Old money, new hoe (what?)
Old money, new hoe (what?)
Old money, new hoe (what? What?)
Old money, new hoe

[Verse 2]
Ooh ooh, damn I feel my self
Left my bitch at home (Playboi), told her fuck herself
Did it on my own (huh), made it by myself (Playboi)
And I keep a tec, boy I keep the stare
Leave a nigga wet, boy I got the well
Grab it off the shelf (huh, Playboi, Playboi)
She said she need a pair, spend it on myself (cash)
Got like three phones (phones), Apple not a pear
Got like three hoes (brrr), I do not compare
In the trap we selling crack come here (huh)
Momma shed a tear (ooh)
In the trap we cookin’ up a meal (ooh)
Cookies in the shelf
My diamonds target self, like I’m Michael Phelps

[Chorus]
Old money, new hoe (what?)
Old money, new hoe (what?)
Old money, new hoe (what?)
Old money, new hoe

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Lyrics

Playboi Carti – Choppa Won’t Miss A Nigga Lyrics

[Intro: Young Thug]
Yeah! We ain’t wasting no time
(Yo Pi’erre, you wanna come out here?)

[Hook: Playboi Carti]
Choppa won’t miss a nigga
Choppa won’t miss a nigga
Choppa won’t miss a nigga
100 round drum killin’ everybody
100 round drum killin’ everybody
Choppa won’t miss a nigga

[Verse 1: Playboi Carti]
She hop on the dick and she split
Hop on my dick like a bitch
Suck on my dick like a tick
You a copier, Yeah you like to copy shit
You ain’t even on the style till young Carti popped the shit
I got hella hoes (woah), on some papi shit
Need to pop a bitch, need a solid bitch, harder than a brick
Choppers on the counter, Pints all in the fridge

[Hook: Playboi Carti]
Choppa won’t miss a nigga
Choppa won’t miss a nigga
Choppa won’t miss a nigga
100 round drone killin’ everybody
100 round drone killin’ everybody
Choppa won’t miss a nigga

[Verse 2: Playboi Carti]
Out there running with my gun
Young nigga shoot for fun
Put some money on your head, I sell yo ass for 10
I got ice to match the ice, ice to match the fit
I got bitches on top of bitches, and all my bitches 10s
I spilled a [?] on milly rock, just hide it in my sock
I got bitches in the lot, pouring up the pop

[Hook: Playboi Carti and Young Thug]
Choppa won’t miss a nigga
Choppa won’t miss a nigga
Choppa won’t miss a nigga
100 round drone killin’ everybody (yeah)
100 round drone killin’ everybody
Choppa won’t miss a nigga (grrrah, Jeffrey!)

[Verse 3: Young Thug]
30 round drum in the jean jacket
That makin’ mean my jean kinda baggy
I never go for a chain snatch
I done been done had the same jewerly
Three-twenty all on the dash
A Bentley truck is my G-Wagon
Me and the dawgs smokin’ nothin’ but nasty
Fuck the law and whoever askin’
Hit it, hit it, hit it all my bitches wit a dick so you know she eat
Cheated on my bitch, wit’ a bitch with bigger titties
Bout to cheat on my bitch with a mothafuckin’ midget
Bank with my card, I go hard in every city
Stackin’ for the dawg, I got hoes in every city
That funny hoe, why that bitch say that [?]
[?], if I tell ’em, “aye let’s get it”
Platinum way let’s get it, diamonds in my face let’s get it
I got diamonds in my face, they half a carat, aye!

[Hook: Playboi Carti and Young Thug]
Choppa won’t miss a nigga
Choppa won’t miss a nigga
Choppa won’t miss a nigga
100 round drum killin’ everybody (yeah)
100 round drum killin’ everybody
Choppa won’t miss a nigga (pew,pew,pew,pew,pew,pew!)

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Lyrics

Playboi Carti – Magnolia lyrics

[Intro]
Yo Pi’erre, you wanna come out here?
In New York I Milly Rock, hide it in my sock
Running from an opp, and I shoot at opp (what)
And I’m on the block (what, what, what)
And I’m on the block (what)
In New York I Milly Rock (hello?) hide it in my sock (what)
Hide it in my sock (what) selling that rerock (what, what, what, what, what)

[Chorus]
In New York I Milly Rock, hide it in my sock
Used to sell rerock, running from the cops
Shooting at the opps (Yo Pi’erre, you wanna come out here?)
Shooting at the opps, cause I run they block
Gimme top (top) in my drop-top
All these hoes gon’ flock (flock, flock) when I drop (drop, drop)
All these hoes gon’ flock (flock, flock) when I drop (drop, drop)
All these hoes gon’ flock (flock, flock) when I drop (drop, drop)

[Verse]
Woo, woo, woo, woo
Woo, woo, woo, woo
All these hoes want cash, all these hoes want bags
Fucking on yo’ bitch, uh, I’m her dad
All these niggas sound like cash (sound like cash)
I’m a soldier, damn, I thought I told you
Shootin’ like a soldier, like I’m from Magnolia
All these, niggas, always, fold
Big, bank, never, fold
Sippin, Act’, fill that shit slowly
Bitches, on me, say she like my clothing
I’m in London, Young Carti global
Designer is on me, call it dirty laundry
All these bitches want Young Carti, Young Carti (yeah)
Ay, Young Carti, Young Carti (what)
Young Carti, Young Carti (yeah)
All of your bitches they loose
All of your bitches they loose
All of my bitches they rich
And they stay rockin’ that Rick
What, what, huh, what, what, huh
Rich, rich, Cash Carti, bitch
Rich, bitch, got a rich clique
I’m suckin’ on the clit, she suckin’ on the dick
Give that hoe a tip, told her “Buy some kicks”
Then I brush my teeth, pop up in a whip
Glocky in the whip, glocky in the whip
And I’m cocky, fuckin’ on a thotty
She just wanna plot me, bitch can’t stop me
I’m riding in a Mazi, this ain’t even my Mazi
Oh, that’s not yo’ thottie, yo’ bitch look like a aunty
Walked in with Ashanti, damn, that look like Shanti
Damn, that look like Carti, I think dat be Young Carti
Heard he spent a hunnid on a fucking watch piece, that’s filthy

[Chorus]
In New York I Milly Rock, hide it in my sock
Running from an opp, then I shoot at opp
And I’m on the block
And I’m on the block
In New York I Milly Rock, hide it in my sock
Hide in my sock, selling that rerock
What, what, what, what, what
In New York I Milly Rock, hide it in my sock
Use to sell rerock, running from the cops
Shooting at the opps, you know what I’m sayin’?

[Outro]
Yo, Pi’erre, you wanna come out here?
Bitch ass nigga, fuck that nigga man!

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Lyrics

Playboi Carti – Choppa Won’t Miss A Nigga (feat. Young Thug) lyrics

[Intro: Young Thug]
Yeah! We ain’t wasting no time
(Yo Pi’erre, you wanna come out here?)

[Hook: Playboi Carti]
Choppa won’t miss a nigga
Choppa won’t miss a nigga
Choppa won’t miss a nigga
100 round drum killin’ everybody
100 round drum killin’ everybody
Choppa won’t miss a nigga

[Verse 1: Playboi Carti]
She hop on the dick and she split
Hop on my dick like a bitch
Suck on my dick like a tick

You a copier, Yeah you like to copy shit
You ain’t even on the style till young Carti popped the shit
I got hella hoes (woah), On some papi shit
Need to pop a bitch
Need a solid bitch, harder than a brick
Choppers on the counter, Pints all in the fridge

[Hook: Playboi Carti]
Choppa won’t miss a nigga
Choppa won’t miss a nigga
Choppa won’t miss a nigga
100 round drone killin’ everybody
100 round drone killin’ everybody
Choppa won’t miss a nigga

[Verse 2: Playboi Carti]
Out there running with my gun
Young nigga shoot for fun
Put some money on your head, I sell yo ass for 10
I got ice to match the ice, ice to match the fit
I got bitches on top of bitches, and all my bitches 10s
[?] They gon’ milly rock, just hide it in my sock
I got bitches in the lot, pouring up the pop

[Hook: Playboi Carti and (Young Thug)]
Choppa won’t miss a nigga
Choppa won’t miss a nigga
Choppa won’t miss a nigga
100 round drone killin’ everybody (yeah)
100 round drone killin’ everybody
Choppa won’t miss a nigga (grrrah, Jeffrey!)

[Verse 3: Young Thug]
30 round drum in the jean jacket
That makin’ mean my jean kinda baggy
I never go for a chain snatch
I done been done had the same jewerly
Three-twenty all on the dash
A Bentley truck is my G-Wagon
Me and the dawgs smokin’ nothin’ but nasty
Fuck the law and whoever ask it
Hit it, hit it, hit it all my bitches wit a dick so you know she eat
Cheated on my bitch, wit a bitch with bigger titties
[?] with a mothafuckin’ midget
Bank with my card, I go hard in every city
Stackin’ for the dawg, I got hoes in every city
That funny hoe, why that bitch say that [?]
[?]
I got diamonds in my face, a half a carat

[Hook: Playboi Carti and (Young Thug)]
Choppa won’t miss a nigga
Choppa won’t miss a nigga
Choppa won’t miss a nigga
100 round drone killin’ everybody (yeah)
100 round drone killin’ everybody
Choppa won’t miss a nigga (pew,pew,pew,pew,pew,pew!)

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Lyrics

Lil Yachty – Count Me In

[Intro]
Yo Pi’erre, you wanna come out here?

[Verse]
Bangin’ out the mothafuckin’ back door
Yeah, you sippin’ but you not sippin’ Act’ though (facts)
Double C’s on my feet, gang bangin’ Bs (gang)
Make a bitch touch her knees, she was Vietnamese (hah!)
Crew of bitches poppin’ percs, E’s and triple C’s (pop)
Off top, gimme top ’cause you just a sleaze (slurp)
She want head, she want head, I said, "Nigga please" (hah)
Touch my riches, you’ll get stitches, you think talk is cheap (brr)
I been flexin’ for a while now (whoo)
Stripper bitches tryna trap me for a child now, yeah
And this clip got twelve left, like a dial now (pew pew pew)
If I get robbed, 911 who I don’t dial now, yeah (brrr)
Rap niggas tryna steal my style (hah!, huh)
Stackin’ shit, call me Yachty Rothschild
Bet it like a game of poker, poker face, Code Lyoko (lil’ boat)
These niggas po-po, Benz sit on 24-4’s (skrr)
That shit go skrt, skrt, she eat nut like a burger
She said, "It’s sweet", she said, "It’s sweet, just like nectar" (yeah)
I walk around the city of Atlanta with a Vector (brr)
Aye, these niggas got me hot
Dumb bitch don’t you ever dare pop up at my spot (no)
Talking ’bout you mad, that’s some shots at yo’ dad
I ain’t here to conversate if it ain’t ’bout a dollar (cha ching)
Number 9 on my jeans, my watch cost an Impala (gang)
I done gave so much knowledge, I done turned to a father (goddamn)
And my brother from the south, on the run, he’s a robber (yeah)
Kickin’ doors, bangin’ hoes, had to stay ten toes (whoo)
In Miami, in that penthouse fuckin’ on ten hoes (whoo)
Aye, fuck with me (yeah)
I’m rich as hell, yo’ bitch love on me (gang)
You don’t have to like me, just don’t talk, just don’t fuck with me (fuck it)
Aye, uh, had to get it out the Civic (yeah)
Is there smoke pussy boy? Please be specific (for real)
And my new young bitch pussy on Pacific
Had to get a new account numbers look terrific (hah)

[Chorus]
And yeah you can count me in (yeah, mhm)
Fuckin’ on some hoes, you can count me in (okay, mhm)
Hittin’ up them stores, you can count me in (mhm)
Rollin’ in a Rolls, you can count me in (skrt, hah)
Yeah, you can count me in (mhm)
And yeah you can count me in (yeah, mhm)
Fuckin’ on some hoes, you can count me in (okay, mhm)
Hittin’ up them stores, you can count me in (yeah)
Rollin’ in a Rolls, you can count me in (skrr skrr)
Yeah, you can count me in (hoo)