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Lyrics

Cadell – World War Iii Lyrics

Anything to get mob ties
I’m sick of these niggas
Don’t know how I’m wrong or deserve it, someone explain
I’ll flip at these niggas
Right now Michael’s getting what’s coming to him
I heard that Jama got suttin’ from him
But if Michael swears on Abigail’s life that he hotted me up
God’s bugging on him
‘Cause he knows you make money off him
And you are not hard, just tryna blend in
I walked out, you was there tryna smoke
Told you try me and you won’t go home (Facts)
You just said you weren’t tryna diss me
Then you told your boy to lower his tone (Facts)
They let you in the 12
I only had a plus 3
Those went home
And still nobody done shit
I swear on your family and my own at home
Why do you tell MC’s stories? To tell people, that you ain’t better than me
Yeah? Done dubs better than you
Your mum, and she spits better than you
You’re mad, you ain’t as hard as me
Or brave or got the same heart as me
I know many man that clarted Maya
But none of them could give clart like me (Clart like me)
[Outro]
And if you really want smoke, find me in the rasclart field
Suck your f**king mum, bruv
Ever, ever, ever make me come into the studio for you ever again
Yeah? Dad don’t care where your mum and her wigs are
Didn’t really take it there but I’m nasty
Now I’m letting off at your sister
She looks like she’s ready for a wrestling match
Be surprised if anyone dicked her
Be surprised if they ain’t looking at you and your friends at family mixtures
Good mental health won’t protect that girl
Being broken, but it’s an illness
How you gonna lie about G-check? Wouldn’t even ride for your bredrin dying
Thinks that he’s got one ahead, alright
Just wanted to see you and your bredrin fight
But man put who in a rizzla? Yo, Stormzy, nobodies scared of you
Don’t wanna be like [?] of you
People learnt to make grime like us
People learnt to be weird like you
And in my point of view
I never really saw the point of you
Like, Novelist fair enough, that was worth it
But, I could never heard Ghetts off you
And I always knew, I was better than you (Brap)
Crud? You best look R&B
Instead of telling lies on me
Because I know you
And better yet, I know me
And I could never hide from beef (Oi, Michael)
Stormzy, suck your mum
You don’t crash
G-check who? Make the next one interesting for me
Speak on me but that man raps poorly
I’m his dad, someone tump for me
I murk you, the label here
If not, they don’t know your face is there
Hip Hop, you might have the status
It’s not the one for mum’s faking here
Welcome to East
Where your girl turns to freak
And you ain’t gotta pull ’round here
If you hide from you, then she cool ’round here
And you ain’t gonna lay down rules down here
So warring me? And I swear to God, I will write to your f**king contract into the floor bruv
Warner will phone you and tell you they don’t want no parts of you bruv
Real talks [Verse]
Enough of the mischief
Claim to be hotting me, you never did shit
I show no emotion
You’re only saying my name for promotion
And if you both make friends right now
You’d still be the one that got dosing
How you gonna be disappointed? Just phone him
I’m the reason you roll with 18 man to a show
King of the industry plants
And nobody wants your crown
Shoulda said “suck your mum”
But then you might suck your mum and go upside down
Knew it was fake, but suck your mum anyway
Don’t care if anyone comes for mum anyway
See me in the flesh, and I’ll up my gun anyway
You just run your gums
Didn’t wanna say none
Enough of your son anyway
Mum, why you never tell your son, “Stop lying”? You was begging it, shush
He just had Jorja Smith in his face
Now he’s tryna do drill songs like Woosh
You love your mum so much then swear on her life that you won’t say nuttin’ [?] beef
If I hear anymore lies on roundhouse, you’ll get a roundhouse kick in your teeth (I’ll do that)
And I heard it was a crash at roundhouse
But the crash at roundhouse weren’t me
They believe anything they hear on machines
That’s why I don’t really care about memes
Everytimes talking shit on the 5th
Gonna be friendly by the 14th
Heard that they chat about me on the 14th
But, you could never test this corner
Just did a DNA test on Big Mike again, check I’m the MC’s father
And I’m gonna send for your mum
Don’t remember your mum
We could do remembering after
Last time I sent for you man coulda ended your mum
The people that dressed in [?]
All because I knew my pen was harder
And in the 02, your friends did nada
That’s right
Flipz didn’t flip
Your chick done a dick and blamed you and left in drama
I mean grime didn’t work, you floated to gospel
Praying I don’t get you after
Used to wake up and see your face and have to face the day after
So how could you hate your father? Done crud better than you
Dubs?

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Lyrics

Stormzy – Sounds Of The Skeng Lyrics

Play this song
[Intro]
Easy
And it’s like
[Verse 1]
Five whole years on the circuit
Every single year I merk it (Every single year)
I switch flows, they jerk it
I flip more, then reverse it (Woo, woo)
Told bro reimburse it, I just hope that it’s worth it (Gimme’ that, gimme’ that)
‘Cause if I slap a bitch arse nigga I’ma make it look (Perfect)
I’ma make it look perfect, cah he probably deserves it
See old school Mike just splurges
Please don’t let him re-surface (Word, word)
They go the fastest (Fastest), I go the furthest (Zoom, zoom)
And a nigga been the hardest (Part)
And I bun all my verses
[Chorus]
Man might kick off your face, I’m worst
Man might leave with your babes, I’m burst
Man just bad up the place and merk
Them man lift up a wasteman skirt
You man ain’t been entirely truthful, have you? I know the truth can hurt
I know that, I know my two hands work
I know that, I know I do man dirt
Flipz told me ‘low me again, ‘low me again, this that
(Sound of the-) Sounds of the Skeng
I move foul with my friends, foul with the pen
Don’t start howlin’ again
My dogs them are different
Nigga I am Mr. Skeng, spot the difference
Big Mike, don’t need no assistance
So please give a nigga some distance
Name a nigga that’s this consistent I know the truth can hurt
I know that, I know my two hands work
I know that, I know I do man dirt
Flipz told me ‘low me again, ‘low me again, this that
(Sound of the-) Sounds of the Skeng
I move foul with my friends, foul with the pen
Don’t start howlin’ again
My dogs them are different
Nigga I am Mr. I know the truth can hurt
I know that, I know my two hands work
I know that, I know I do man dirt
Flipz told me ‘low me again, ‘low me again, this that
(Sound of the-) Sounds of the Skeng
I move foul with my friends, foul with the pen
Don’t start howlin’ again
My dogs them are different
Nigga I am Mr. Skeng, spot the difference
Big Mike, don’t need no assistance
So please give a nigga some distance
Name a nigga that’s this consistent
[Verse 3]
Name a nigga that’s this on point (On point)
Froze, wrist on point (On point)
For the trolls, fist on point (On point)
Get your pose and your list on point
Wait there, little niggas wanna’ diss this joint (Alright)
They tryna’ figure “Like what is this joint?” (Alright)
Me and Flip’ll come and flip this joint (Come on)
My spliff big like Misty’s joint (Come on)
Lil’ niggas can’t hit this joint
And I knew it was a banger when I ripped this joint in
Man talk dirt on my name
But the truth is, they’re not realistic points
I’m bigger in person, whippin’ excursion
My niggas whip this joint
Don’t talk like president Flipz is [?]
Real niggas gonna’ dig this joint but
[Chorus]
Man might kick off your face, I’m worst
Man might leave with your babes, I’m burst
Man just bad up the place and merk
Them man lift up a wasteman skirt
You man ain’t been entirely truthful, have you? Skeng, spot the difference
Big Mike, don’t need no assistance
So please give a nigga some distance
Name a nigga that’s this consistent
[Verse 2]
You man just love beggin’ it too much
You man love the Americans too much
I do the most, but it’s never been too much
Go coast to coast, and I never get moved up, facts (Facts, facts, facts)
We talkin’ racks (Racks, racks), we talkin’ plaques (Plaques), or stats
Ayy, rude boy, you do the math
Aight, look, look, G in the south, but I live in the sticks now
Really been about, but they think I’m a prick now
Got a little money, and a couple of BRITs now
Big for my boot, but it’s funny, it fits now
The sauce don’t stick to my swag, it drips now
You niggas thought you were bad, you’re piss now
Cah that boy got to the bag, you’re rich now
I hope you niggas know what it is now
But man might
[Chorus]
Man might kick off your face, I’m worst
Man might leave with your babes, I’m burst
Man just bad up the place and merk
Them man lift up a wasteman skirt
You man ain’t been entirely truthful, have you?

Categories
Lyrics

Rick Ross – She On My Dick (feat. Gucci Mane) (Uncensored)

[Intro: Rick Ross]
Who at the door?
Put the money up
I’ma be done kilt one of these niggas ’round here man
Who dat is?
Uhhhhh

[Verse 1: Rick Ross]
I had to wet the donkey, get some pillow seats
Parkin’ bean projects where the killers be
Can’t be talkin’ out loud or niggas gettin’ shot
Homicide, died in the line of hip hop
All my niggas out the scott snagged the quick slop
Swear to god I’ma die for this wristwatch
Growing up at risco they called us piss poor
Realest nigga in the city, let a bitch know
Red bottoms all white just to shoot dice
Rick Brown leave ya, do it like I’m Big Mike
Jabar home, going on his fifth Rolls Royce
I drop the top and let him wave at the dope boys
Fake golds, niggas front with these dracos
Walk up on ’em with the forty and the case closed
Double M the label with the most pesos
I bought a condo and that bitch got eight floors

[Hook: Rick Ross]
She on my dick, she on my dick
Richest nigga in the city so she on my dick
It make sense, she on my dick
Making moves in the city so she on my dick
She on my dick, she on my dick
She on my dick, she on my dick
She on my dick, she on my dick
I’m making moves, she on my dick

[Verse 2: Gucci Mane]
I get a rush when I see these bitches watching me
It’s like a high when I see these bitches jocking me
She on my dick like she heard what I’m ordering
Drop top Mulsanne, it’s just one of these
She on my dick like she seen some’ she shouldn’t’ve seen
Two hundred thou’, one hundred’s crammed in my Givenchy jeans
And she just wanna make a scene, tryna join the team
And I just wanna paint her face like it’s Maybelline
Bill Belichick, I just got another ring
Bust another check and I just bought a new machine
And like the Chargers I’m about to move the team
You bought a Charger, well Gucci bought a Lamborghin’

[Hook: Rick Ross]
She on my dick, she on my dick
She on my dick, she on my dick
She on my dick, she on my dick
Richest nigga in the city, she on my dick
She on my dick, she on my dick
She on my dick, she on my dick
She see my moves, she on my dick
The richest nigga, yeah she on my dick

[Verse 3: Rick Ross]
Baby girl do your thing in your Vera Wang
Ever dealt with a nigga still dealing cocaine
Never made it to the game before it’s halftime
Ten stacks for the seats or you can have mine
Never seated by a snitch, they give me bad vibes
Pop a bottle every time you niggas flatline
Lot of bitches but I focus on my fab five
Made her count a half a ticket on the cab ride
Bitch ass nappy girl, you need that rich shit
It take real heart to wanna be a rich bitch
She was the youngest and her mama had six kids
Called her a dummy but she turned into a rich bitch
Run with a nigga with some money out in Memphis
She was posting pictures of the gifts that he would gift her
But the pussy goes to the richest nigga
And guess what? Rozay is that nigga!

[Hook: Rick Ross]
She on my dick, she on my dick
She on my dick, she on my dick
She on my dick, she on my dick
Richest nigga in the city, she on my dick
She on my dick, she on my dick
She on my dick, she on my dick
She see my moves, she on my dick
The richest nigga, yeah she on my dick

Categories
Lyrics

She on my dyck – Rick Ross feat. Gucci Mane lyrics

Lyrics Rick Ross – She on my dyck

Who at the door? Put the money up
I’ma been done kilt one of these niggas ’round here, man
Who dat is? Uhhhhh(she on my dyck)

I had to wet the donkey, get some pillow seats
Pork n’ bean projects is where the killers be
Can’t be talkin’ all loud or niggas gettin’ shot
Homicide, died in the line of hip hop
All my niggas out the scott snagged the quick slop
Swear to God, I’ma die for this wristwatch
Growin’ up at risco, they called us piss poor
Realest nigga in the city, let a b*tch know
Red bottoms, all white just to shoot dice
Rick Brown leave ya, do it like I’m Big Mike
Jabar home, goin’ on his fifth Rolls Royce
I drop the top and let him wave at the dope boys
Fake golds, niggas front with these dracos
Walk up on ’em with the forty and the case closed
Double M the label with the most pesos
I bought a condo and that b*tch got eight floors

She on my d*ck, she on my dyck
Richest nigga in the city so she on my d*ck
It make sense, she on my d*ck
Makin’ moves in the city so she on my d*ck
She on my d*ck, she on my d*ck
She on my d*ck, she on my d*ck
She on my d*ck, she on my d*ck
I’m makin’ moves, she on my d*ck.

I get a rush when I see these b*tches watchin’ me
It’s like a high when I see these b*tches jockin’ me
She on my d*ck like she heard what I’m orderin’
Drop top Mulsanne, it’s just one of these
She on my d*ck like she seen some’ she shouldn’t’ve seen
Two hundred thou’, one hundred’s crammed in my Givenchy jeans
And she just wanna make a scene, tryna join the team
And I just wanna paint her face like it’s Maybelline
Bill Belichick, I just got another ring versuri-lyrics.info
Bust another check and I just bought a new machine
And like the Chargers I’m about to move the team
You bought a Charger, well Gucci bought a Lamborghin’.

She on my d*ck, she on my dyck
Richest nigga in the city so she on my d*ck
It make sense, she on my d*ck
Makin’ moves in the city so she on my d*ck
She on my d*ck, she on my d*ck
She on my d*ck, she on my d*ck
She on my d*ck, she on my d*ck
I’m makin’ moves, she on my d*ck.

Baby girl, do your thing in your Vera Wang
Ever dealt with a nigga still dealin’ cocaine?
Never made it to the game before it’s halftime
Ten stacks for the seats, so you can have mine
Never seated by a snitch, they give me bad vibes
Pop a bottle every time you niggas flatline
Lot of b*tches but I focus on my Fab Five
Made her count a half a ticket on the cab ride
b*tch hair nappy girl, you need that rich s**t
It take real heart to wanna be a rich b*tch
She was the youngest and her mama had six kids
Called her a dummy but she turned into a rich b*tch
Run with a nigga with some money out in Memphis
She was postin’ pics of the gifts that he would gift her
But the p*ssy goes to the richest nigga
And guess what? Rozay is that nigga!

She on my d*ck, she on my dyck
Richest nigga in the city so she on my d*ck
It make sense, she on my d*ck
Makin’ moves in the city so she on my d*ck
She on my d*ck, she on my d*ck
She on my d*ck, she on my d*ck
She on my d*ck, she on my d*ck
I’m makin’ moves, she on my d*ckkk.
Rick Ross lyrics
Video Rick Ross

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Lyrics

Rick Ross – She On My Dick (feat. Gucci Mane) (Rather You Than Me Album)

[Intro: Rick Ross]
Who at the door? Put the money up
I’ma been done kilt one of these niggas ’round here, man
Who dat is? Uhhhhh

[Verse 1: Rick Ross]
I had to wet the donkey, get some pillow seats (huh)
Pork n’ bean projects is where the killers be (woo)
Can’t be talkin’ all loud or niggas gettin’ shot
Homicide, died in the line of hip hop
All my niggas out the scott snagged the quick slop (huh)
Swear to God, I’ma die for this wristwatch
Growin’ up at risco, they called us piss poor
Realest nigga in the city, let a bitch know (woo)
Red bottoms, all white just to shoot dice (huh)
Rick Brown leave ya, do it like I’m Big Mike (huh)
Jabar home, goin’ on his fifth Rolls Royce
I drop the top and let him wave at the dope boys (woo)
Fake golds, niggas front with these dracos (fuck ’em)
Walk up on ’em with the forty and the case closed (woo)
Double M the label with the most pesos (woo)
I bought a condo and that bitch got eight floors (woo)

[Hook: Rick Ross]
She on my dick, she on my dick (woo)
Richest nigga in the city so she on my dick (boss, woo)
It make sense, she on my dick (woo)
Makin’ moves in the city so she on my dick
She on my dick, she on my dick (woo)
She on my dick, she on my dick (woo)
She on my dick, she on my dick (woo)
I’m makin’ moves, she on my dick

[Verse 2: Gucci Mane]
I get a rush when I see these bitches watchin’ me
It’s like a high when I see these bitches jockin’ me
She on my dick like she heard what I’m orderin’
Drop top Mulsanne, it’s just one of these
She on my dick like she seen some’ she shouldn’t’ve seen
Two hundred thou’, one hundred’s crammed in my Givenchy jeans
And she just wanna make a scene, tryna join the team
And I just wanna paint her face like it’s Maybelline
Bill Belichick, I just got another ring
Bust another check and I just bought a new machine
And like the Chargers I’m about to move the team
You bought a Charger, well Gucci bought a Lamborghin’

[Hook: Rick Ross]
She on my dick, she on my dick (woo)
She on my dick, she on my dick (boss, woo)
She on my dick, she on my dick (woo)
Richest nigga in the city, she on my dick
She on my dick, she on my dick (woo)
She on my dick, she on my dick (woo)
She see my moves, she on my dick (woo)
The richest nigga, yeah, she on my dick

[Verse 3: Rick Ross]
Baby girl, do your thing in your Vera Wang (huh)
Ever dealt with a nigga still dealin’ cocaine? (huh)
Never made it to the game before it’s halftime (no)
Ten stacks for the seats, so you can have mine (haha)
Never seated by a snitch, they give me bad vibes (woo)
Pop a bottle every time you niggas flatline (bang)
Lot of bitches but I focus on my Fab Five (uh)
Made her count a half a ticket on the cab ride (woo)
Bitch hair nappy girl, you need that rich shit (huh)
It take real heart to wanna be a rich bitch
She was the youngest and her mama had six kids
Called her a dummy but she turned into a rich bitch (haha)
Run with a nigga with some money out in Memphis (I see)
She was postin’ pics of the gifts that he would gift her (I see)
But the pussy goes to the richest nigga (I see)
And guess what? Rozay is that nigga!

[Hook: Rick Ross]
She on my dick, she on my dick (woo)
She on my dick, she on my dick (boss, woo)
She on my dick, she on my dick (woo)
Richest nigga in the city, she on my dick
She on my dick, she on my dick (woo)
She on my dick, she on my dick (woo)
She see my moves, she on my dick (woo)
The richest nigga, yeah, she on my dick
Whoo! Whooo!

Categories
Lyrics

Rick Ross – She On My Dick (feat. Gucci Mane)

[Intro: Rick Ross]
Who at the door?
Put the money up
I’ma be done kilt one of these niggas ’round here man
Who dat is?
Uhhhhh

[Verse 1: Rick Ross]
I had to wet the donkey, get some pillow seats
Parkin’ bean projects where the killers be
Can’t be talkin’ out loud or niggas gettin’ shot
Homicide, died in the line of hip hop
All my niggas out the scott snagged the quick slop
Swear to god I’ma die for this wristwatch
Growing up at risco they called us piss poor
Realest nigga in the city, let a bitch know
Red bottoms all white just to shoot dice
Rick Brown leave ya, do it like I’m Big Mike
Jabar home, going on his fifth Rolls Royce
I drop the top and let him wave at the dope boys
Fake golds, niggas front with these dracos
Walk up on ’em with the forty and the case closed
Double M the label with the most pesos
I bought a condo and that bitch got eight floors

[Hook: Rick Ross]
She on my dick, she on my dick
Richest nigga in the city so she on my dick
It make sense, she on my dick
Making moves in the city so she on my dick
She on my dick, she on my dick
She on my dick, she on my dick
She on my dick, she on my dick
I’m making moves, she on my dick

[Verse 2: Gucci Mane]
I get a rush when I see these bitches watching me
It’s like a high when I see these bitches jocking me
She on my dick like she heard what I’m ordering
Drop top Mulsanne, it’s just one of these
She on my dick like she seen some’ she shouldn’t’ve seen
Two hundred thou’, one hundred’s crammed in my Givenchy jeans
And she just wanna make a scene, tryna join the team
And I just wanna paint her face like it’s Maybelline
Bill Belichick, I just got another ring
Bust another check and I just bought a new machine
And like the Chargers I’m about to move the team
You bought a Charger, well Gucci bought a Lamborghin’

[Hook: Rick Ross]
She on my dick, she on my dick
She on my dick, she on my dick
She on my dick, she on my dick
Richest nigga in the city, she on my dick
She on my dick, she on my dick
She on my dick, she on my dick
She see my moves, she on my dick
The richest nigga, yeah she on my dick

[Verse 3: Rick Ross]
Baby girl do your thing in your Vera Wang
Ever dealt with a nigga still dealing cocaine
Never made it to the game before it’s halftime
Ten stacks for the seats or you can have mine
Never seated by a snitch, they give me bad vibes
Pop a bottle every time you niggas flatline
Lot of bitches but I focus on my fab five
Made her count a half a ticket on the cab ride
Bitch ass nappy girl, you need that rich shit
It take real heart to wanna be a rich bitch
She was the youngest and her mama had six kids
Called her a dummy but she turned into a rich bitch
Run with a nigga with some money out in Memphis
She was posting pictures of the gifts that he would gift her
But the pussy goes to the richest nigga
And guess what? Rozay is that nigga!

[Hook: Rick Ross]
She on my dick, she on my dick
She on my dick, she on my dick
She on my dick, she on my dick
Richest nigga in the city, she on my dick
She on my dick, she on my dick
She on my dick, she on my dick
She see my moves, she on my dick
The richest nigga, yeah she on my dick