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Goldman Sachs Expects Global Music Revenues to Reach $142B by 2030

Source: Goldman Sachs Expects Global Music Revenues to Reach $142B by 2030 Amid the pandemic, analysts at Goldman Sachs have some good news and bad news… Let’s get the bad news out of the way first, as the music industry has obviously taken a major hit due to the coronavirus (COVID-19) outbreak. Goldman Sachs reports live music will be “severely impacted” due to the postponements and cancellations, […]
This article was first published on Your EDM.

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Tunde Olaniran – The Highway Lyrics

[Hook:]
All the promises get made
I’m under the road they paved
I hope it’s worth the rent you pay
Too low to take the high way
[Verse 1:]
They googlin, ooglin ruins
Brewing ensuing illusions
Of tree farms
New cars
Whole foods
Sports bars
Where nobodies pants’ll be saggin
Don’t let nobody with hats in
Don’t drink the water we frackin
They paid; why not be happy? Does that make me Pocahontas? Kidnapped the sap and we napping
Don’t question how we get backing
Corporate interests are something
That we should never be lacking
Don’t need us here so a cell
Is perfect since freedom’s for sale
And slavery’s over but hell
A field’s not as clean as a jail
[Verse 2:]
They parachute in contenders
They gentrification vendors
RFP for images rendered
Capitalistic ventures
Frisking and searching and seizing
Red cuz the budget that’s bleeding
Readin how their farms could be feeding
But all they can get is a meeting
Boot on the neck of the lamb
Ruthless killer; son of sam
Wham bam ma’am
Now you in a jam with the deed
Coming up short like a dwarf in capris
Next door, they in the same skillet
They cheat the deck and then deal it
They own the news so they chillin
Turn my neighbors to villains
[Verse 3:]
Buffalo Plaid and henley
Welcome them cuz they gentry
Hard bangs speak gently
Yo art get no entry
I rent but they own that
They white but still like rap
That zeitgeist they roadmap
We off punk we on trap
I’m broke but the bank’s got some dough they loan me tho
Goldman Sachs, JP Morgan the new colonial
Powers, get all the welfare that they wanna
Does that make them John Smith?

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Travis Scott – MIA (Demo) Lyrics

[Intro]
Yeah, ill America baby
Scott, La Flame
Ill America baby

[Verse 1]
Lifted, I’m feelin’ so gifted, trippin’, I’m constantly fallin’
Channel view of the whole villa, plottin’ while burnin’ a Marley
Damn these rare thoughts is so endless, bougie bitch whippin’ the ‘Rari
Out in the jungles, make it rumble, she get wet like safari
Bitches don’t know, I teach ’em the ropes, Scottie the Pope
Now only Giuseppe, Celine, and Bottega
Proenza, the Schouler is all that she know
Might let the drop top, and she’s Lamb’ fam
Whippin’ trans am, keep it low
She pulled out the hard white on the highway
For the line, listen, pimpin’
Your bitch just might physic my disick, disick all business
Might blizzard, roll up, crib look like the tele
Left jelly all over her biscuit
Last spring I lost 10K in teeth
I copped it but now I don’t miss it
Whoever found it, teeth probably glistenin’
In fact that nigga prolly missin’

[Hook]
These choppers and these planes
They all doin’ the same, they take me overseas
M-I-A-I-M-I-A
M-I-A-I-M-I-M-I-A-I-M-I-A
M-I-A-MI-M-I-M-I-A-MI
These choppers and these planes
They all doin’ the same, they take me overseas
M-I-A-I-M-I-A
M-I-A-MI-M-I-M-I-A-I-M-I-A
M-I-A-MI-M-I-M-I-A-I-I

[Verse 2]
Speedin’, and damn I’m leanin’ on a Kawasaki
In the lobby, then we ‘dro codeinin’, out in Abu Dhabi
Chain beamin’, man, I hope you ain’t anemic
Cause you might feel drowsy
Out in Sweden, it’s just me and four women
And we all playin’ hockey
Blowed, Scott La Flame, pimp with no cane
Rockin’ a robe in your hood with no pass
Fuck up the flow, nothin’ but fam cause niggas be hoes
You can have that, pass that, light it up and then blow
Imagery abstract, it’s like NASDAQ
When I stock it up and then go
Packed it up and moved to Goldman Sachs
My nigga Yeezy done taught me that
Young niggas in the Soho house
Spillin’ booze where the Barbie at
Damn homie, this a movie nigga
Take a picture of somethin’, where your Kodak at?
If Scottie ain’t totin’ or swimmin’ in women
He writin’, producin’ and scorin’ and filmin’

[Hook]
These choppers and these planes
They all doin’ the same, they take me overseas
M-I-A-I-M-I-A
M-I-A-I-M-I-M-I-A-I-M-I-A
M-I-A-MI-M-I-M-I-A-MI
These choppers and these planes
They all doin’ the same, they take me overseas
M-I-A-I-M-I-A
M-I-A-MI-M-I-M-I-A-I-M-I-A
M-I-A-MI-M-I-M-I-A-I-I

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Lyrics

Rick Ross – Trap Trap Trap (feat. Young Thug & Wale) (Rather You Than Me Album)

[Intro: Rick Ross]
Beep, beep
I’m sittin’ at the red light
My ankle monitor beepin’
Hadn’t been charged (fuck that)
I think I see the beeper (let’s bounce, man)
Mmm, bounce

[Chorus: Rick Ross]
I took my roof off at the red light
I took my roof off at the red light
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Brown bag legend ’cause it’s all cash
Brown bag legend when it’s all cash
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap

[Verse 1: Rick Ross]
First one on the block, woah, I need mine off the top, uh
Overtown, he got shot, but he died in Opa-locka
Couldn’t save one lung, hit ’em up, hmm, hmm
See the look on my face (woo!) like Carol City one state
Niggas hate on my sound, ’til I went the first round
Then I earnt the Lombardi, ain’t no fuckboys allowed
Only fuck if she exclusive, her favorite rapper Lil Boosie
To tell the truth I didn’t ask, when it come to bitches I’m Gucci
I’m the wrong one to rob, in the jungle I’m Nas
In the label I’m Russ, in the trap I’m Rick Ross
Double M, Goldman Sachs, just like Omar and Khloe
You came down for the packs, I sent you back loaded

[Chorus: Rick Ross & Young Thug]
I took my roof off at the red light
I took my roof off at the red light
I took my roof off at the red light
Roof off at the red light
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, sheesh
Brown bag legend ’cause it’s all cash
Brown bag legend when it’s all cash
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap

[Verse 2: Young Thug]
I was tryna bet the whole map
Out in Vegas, out the trap
Niggas talkin’ ’bout raidin’ the trap
Man, I’m ’bout to go ape in the trap (nigga goin’ ape shit)
Nigga, watch your babies in the trap
Nigga cookin’ oil base in the trap
Young nigga slave in the trap
Nigga run base, base in the trap
I’m ’bout to get this shit movin’, yeah
Answer the door with the Woolie, yeah
Wrist in the water, I need me a boat
I’m ’bout to get this shit cruisin’, yeah
Stand at the stove ’til you’re woozy, woozy
Let’s make a movie, movie, yeah
Move, move, move
Bitch, I’m richer than Tom Cruise, yeah
So many different meds on me
Fuck around, call the Fed on me
Chk-chk, boom boom boom your head, homie, reds
Draco got a lot of lead on it, you dead

[Chorus: Rick Ross]
I took my roof off at the red light
I took my roof off at the red light
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Brown bag legend ’cause it’s all cash
Brown bag legend when it’s all cash
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap

[Verse 3: Wale]
Yeah, Wale though, uh, uh
I ain’t nothin’ like the trap niggas, Goyard backpack nigga
Uber crates ’til the Feds pull up, woo woo, cataracts, nigga
I’m the type, holla at the wife
Her body yours, but her soul is mine
Adios, do a hundred 20
All she want is good dick and advice
Wraith, scrappin’ my tires, Jameson ’til I’m fried
Famous here but I’m humble, Double M the Empire
Renzel got me all day, I’m Kyrie, he LeBron James
Tired niggas say Folarin ain’t top
I’ve been SportsCenter every day
I ain’t nothin’ like them trap guys, I mean I kinda do bag dimes
I kinda never do back down, leave a nigga high via rap lines
Get a beat, leave it baptized, mob ties, but it’s black lives
Black lives, nigga, trap lives, gimme five on the black side

[Chorus: Rick Ross & Young Thug]
I took my roof off at the red light
I took my roof off at the red light
I took my roof off at the red light
Roof off at the red light
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, sheesh
Brown bag legend ’cause it’s all cash
Brown bag legend when it’s all cash
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap

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Lyrics

Trap trap trap – Rick Ross feat. Young Thug lyrics

Lyrics Rick Ross – Trap trap trap

I took my roof off at the red light
I took my roof off at the red light
Trap trap trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap trap trap, trap, trap, trap
Brown bag legend ’cause it’s all cash
Brown bag legend when it’s all cash
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap.

First one on the block, woah
I need mine off the top, uh
Over town, he got shot
Muddy died in Opa-locka
Couldn’t save one lung
Hit ’em up, hmm, hmm
See the look on my face (woo!)
Like Carol City one state
Niggas hate on my sound
‘Til I went the first round
Then I earnt the Lombardi
Ain’t no f*ckboys allowed
Only f*ck if she exclusive
Her favorite rapper Lil Boosie
To tell the truth I didn’t ask
When it come to b*tches I’m Gucci
I’m the wrong one to rob
In the jungle I’m Nas
In the label I’m Russ
In the trap I’m Rick Ross
Double M, Goldman Sachs
Just like Omar and Khloe
You can’t dial for the packs
I sent you right back loaded.

I took my roof off at the red light
I took my roof off at the red light
I took my roof off at the red light
Roof off at the red light
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, sheesh
Brown bag legend ’cause it’s all cash
Brown bag legend when it’s all cash
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap.

I was tryna bet the whole map, Vegas, stay in the trap
Niggas talkin’ ’bout raidin’ the trap
Man I’m ’bout to go ape in the trap (nigga goin’ ape shit)
Nigga watch your babies in the trap
Nigga cook a whole base in the trap
Young nigga slave in the trap
Nigga run base, base in the trap
I’m ’bout to get this shit movin’, yeah
Answer the door with the Woolie, yeah
Wrist in the water, I need me a boat
I’m ’bout to get this shit cruisin’, yeah
Stand at the stove ’til you’re woozy, woozy
Let’s make a movie, movie, yeah
Movie, movie, movie versuri-lyrics.info
b*tch I’m richer than Tom Cruise, yeah
So many different meds on me
f*ck around, call the fed on me
Chk, boom boom boom your head, homie
Draco got a lot of lead on it
You dead.

I took my roof off at the red light
I took my roof off at the red light
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Brown bag legend ’cause it’s all cash
Brown bag legend when it’s all cash
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap.

Wale though
I ain’t nothin’ like the trap niggas
Goyard backpack nigga
Uber crates ’til the feds pull up
Woo woo, cataracts, nigga
I’m the type, holla at the wife
Her body yours, but her soul is mine
Adios, do a hundred 20
All she want is good d*ck and advice
Wraith, scrappin’ my tires
Jameson ’til I’m fried
Famous here but I’m humble
Double M the Empire
Renzel got me all day
Kyrie, he LeBron James
Tired niggas say Folarin ain’t top SportsCenter every day
I ain’t nothin’ like them trap guys
I mean I kinda do bag dimes
I kinda never do back down
Leave a nigga high via rap lines
Get a beat, leave it baptized
Mob ties, but it’s black lives
Black lives, nigga, trap lives
Gimme five on the black side.

I took my roof off at the red light
I took my roof off at the red light
I took my roof off at the red light
Roof off at the red light
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap
Trap trap trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap trap trap, trap, sheesh
Brown bag legend ’cause it’s all cash
Brown bag legend when it’s all cash
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trappp.
Rick Ross lyrics
Video Rick Ross

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Lyrics

Rick Ross – Trap Trap Trap (feat. Young Thug & Wale)

[Intro: Rick Ross]
Beep
Beep
I’m sittin’ at the red light
My ankle monitor beepin’
Hadn’t been charged
I think I see the beeper
Bounce

[Chorus: Rick Ross]
I took my roof off at the red light
I took my roof off at the red light
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Brown bag legend ’cause it’s all cash
Brown bag legend when it’s all cash
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap

[Verse 1: Rick Ross]
First one on the block, woah
I need mine off the top, uh
Over town, he got shot
Muddy died in [?]
Couldn’t save one Hummer
Hit ’em up, hmm, hmm
See the look on my face (woo!)
Like [?]
Niggas hate on my sound
‘Til I went the [?]
Then I earnt the Lombardi
Ain’t no fuckboys allowed
Only fuck if she exclusive
Her favorite rapper Lil Boosie
To tell the truth I didn’t ask
When it come to bitches I’m Gucci
I’m the wrong one to rob
In the jungle I’m Nas
In the label I’m Russ
In the trap I’m Rick Ross
Double M, Goldman Sachs
Just like Omar and Khloe
You can’t dial for the packs
I sent you right back loaded

[Chorus: Rick Ross & Young Thug]
I took my roof off at the red light
I took my roof off at the red light
I took my roof off at the red light
Roof off at the red light
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, sheesh
Brown bag legend ’cause it’s all cash
Brown bag legend when it’s all cash
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap

[Verse 2: Young Thug]
I was tryna bet the whole map, Vegas, stay in the trap
Niggas talkin’ ’bout raidin’ the trap
Man I’m ’bout to go ape in the trap (nigga goin’ ape shit)
Nigga watch your babies in the trap
Nigga cook a whole base in the trap
Young nigga slave in the trap
Nigga run base, base in the trap
I’m ’bout to get this shit movin’, yeah
Answer the door with the Woolie, yeah
Wrist in the water, I need me a boat
I’m ’bout to get this shit cruisin’, yeah
Stand at the store ’til you’re woozy, woozy
Let’s make a movie, movie, yeah
Movie, movie, movie
Bitch I’m richer than Tom Cruise, yeah
So many different meds on me
Fuck around, call the fed on me
Boom boom boom your head, homie
Draco got a lot of lead on it
You dead

[Chorus: Rick Ross]
I took my roof off at the red light
I took my roof off at the red light
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Brown bag legend ’cause it’s all cash
Brown bag legend when it’s all cash
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap

[Verse 3: Wale]
Wale though
I ain’t nothin’ like the trap niggas
Goyard backpack nigga
Uber crates ’til the feds pull up
Woo woo, cataracts, nigga
I’m the type, holla at the wife
Her body yours, but her soul is mine
Adios, do a hundred 20
All she want is good dick and advice
[?]
[?]
Famous here but I’m humble
Double M the empire
Renzel got me all day
Kyrie, he LeBron James
Tired niggas say Folarin [?] SportsCenter every day
I ain’t nothin’ like them trap guys
I mean I kinda do bag dimes
I kinda never do back down
Leave a nigga high via rap lines
Get a beat, leave it baptized
Mob ties, but it’s black lives
Black lives, nigga, trap lives
Gimme five on the black side

[Chorus: Rick Ross & Young Thug]
I took my roof off at the red light
I took my roof off at the red light
I took my roof off at the red light
Roof off at the red light
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, sheesh
Brown bag legend ’cause it’s all cash
Brown bag legend when it’s all cash
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap
Trap, trap, trap, trap, trap, trap

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Lyrics

Rick Ross – I Think She Like Me (feat. Ty Dolla $ign)

[Intro: Rick Ross]
This the fliest shit ever
This that rich forever part 2
Uh, uh

[Verse 1: Rick Ross]
Layin’ in my bed, I’m under these gold chandeliers
Can’t say too many names in here these kinda years
Night sweaters and these icy diamonds on my wrist
Ice cube lookin’ nigga, you know life a bitch
I once got no allowance, now I got the crown
I said I was the boss, nobody made a sound
Really had to see them things, this level story tellin’
Who else could flip a chorus into 40 million
Out in Cannes with Leonardo DiCaprio
While out on bond, pray I go to trial rapido
8 felonies, tellin’ me wanna give me life
Every nut I bust really, gotta do it twice
Ricky Ronaldo, really when I’m in Portugal
I pull a yacht out this weekend, I’m fuckin’ so and so
Cameras flash, paparazzi layin’ in the grass
Tom Brady my new nig but you can tell ’em that

[Hook: Ty Dolla $ign]
Uh, I think she like me
Oh, I think she like me
I know her nigga don’t like me
With your bitch right now, yeah, I might be
Sippin’ this right now, yeah, we might be
Might hit her from the back, let her ride me
Girl, you never meet another nigga like me
Girl, you never meet another man like me

[Verse 2: Rick Ross]
I’m sexin’ women, I don’t fish her out
I gas her up and let her lick me down
I may name my daughter Hermes
Get my jeweler to decorate the new birds nest
20 million up in Merrill Lynch
I met his chick, he haven’t seen her since
Through the city, I’m still floatin’ like a magic carpet
She stop me for a selfie, I just want the knowledge
It’s special once you thinkin’ send your kids to college
Or be a geechi nigga just to keep the Bentley polished
Do it for the dear departed, fuck up Ben Carson
And [?], you made a nigga a target
Only one that’s smokin’ up in Goldman Sachs
When I’m the only one that’s rollin’ like a quarter back
And I never put it in my government
‘Cause I never put on for the government

[Hook: Ty Dolla $ign]
Uh, I think she like me
Oh, I think she like me
I know her nigga don’t like me
With your bitch right now, yeah, I might be
Sippin’ this Sprite now, yeah, we might be
Might hit her from the back, let her ride me
‘Cause you never meet another nigga like me
Girl, you never meet another man like me

[Verse 3: Rick Ross]
You caught the case, you gotta post a bond
I’m rathful lemon mixed with young Wale, Folarin
Starin’ in my safe, I’m rather safe than sorry
Diddy, Jigga, only two niggas comin’ for me
I park the caddy in my livin’ room
Pussy niggas lookin’ for me, I’ma give it to him
Santorini, Greece, sex in the swimmin’ pool
If her pussy dry, call her beetle juice
I’m baby makin’ in the Malvides
Put up all the yachts, pulled out the jet skis
Khaled hit me on the FaceTime
I’m the fliest nigga on his bassline
She see the sneakers and she see the stones
Fat boy run the city, seated in the throne
I’m cashin’ in like the Kardashians
My paralysed homie snuck a ratchet in

[Hook: Ty Dolla $ign]
Uh, I think she like me
Oh, I think she like me
I know her nigga don’t like me
With your bitch right now, yeah, I might be
Sippin’ this Sprite now, yeah, we might be
Might hit her from the back, let her ride me
‘Cause you never meet another nigga like me
Girl, you never meet another man like me