Tag: MAC

Lyrics

Future – 200 lyrics

Below are the complete “200” lyrics by Future displayed. These lyrics were added 10 hours ago.

200 lyrics

[Intro: Young Thug]
Everything right
Everything right
Everything right
Everything right
All these niggas
Everything right, you back in Givenchy
I only drink Actavis, I’m on a diet
I’ma chase it like Hussain
All this money bring a nigga new pain (woah, woah, woah)
Yeah, yeah

[Chorus: Young Thug]
I got at least 200 hoes
Fresh to death, and I leave my current in a doze
Up and down you ain’t receive nothin’ ’bout this dough
And these hundreds ain’t goin’ nowhere like a moat

[Verse 1: Young Thug]
I bought my moms a car, it felt amazin’
My niggas bangin’ burgundy like the Redskins
I got all type of tattoos on my f*ckin’ shin
I was in a white and red Maybach like peppermints
I’ve been blown a mil’ on jewelry, but it’s past tense
Super charge it, make it sound like it’s raggly
I’m ridin’ with the cutter, I’m Blood like my brothers, a MAC 10
Diamonds on me talkin’, they harassin’
No shoulda, coulda, woulda, I got these racks in
Came a long way from a Chevy
Now we spend millions on cribs
You get somethin’ too, don’t trip
My eyes ’bout low as a brim
I smoke the tree limb, tree limb
No gang, big deal

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[Verse 2: Future]
I’m tryna pop a wheelie in a Lamborghini standin’ on two wheels
I got the racks on me, now I can buy me a cruise ship
I just got an iPhone 8 and already stored it with 200 hoes
You can smell the money on me, it comes from off my clothes
My Jordan fits, yeah, are never found in stores
You might as well gon’, gon’, gon’ home
Money long, long, long, long
All way up to Mercury
Any time I come out, gotta step out with a three piece
I’ve been in my bag lately, take three drugs at once lately
Got every shade of Tom Ford, I can spot fugazi
I came out the slums, I got Hermes in a headlock
If she ain’t up to par, she ’bout to get dead docked
Between my diamonds and my fame, became so anxious
I sit at the top of the throne, yeah, ’cause I’m righteous
Got a few vice lords for some friends, some of ’em disciples
And can’t nothin’ come between niggas like us

Tags MAC, Tom Ford

Lyrics

Krept & Konan – Ask Flipz (feat. Stormzy)

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date October 20, 2017
No Comments on Krept & Konan – Ask Flipz (feat. Stormzy)

[Intro: Konan]
Killer!

[Verse 1: Konan]
Dickheads, losers
You’re only bad on computers
Keep talking about shooters
But you’re lying like Lucious (Lying)
I used to run man down in my Nikes
Now I just do it in my Pumas (Run man down)
Can’t give me no backchat, I tell them shut up like Lucas (Shut up)
Free up my bros in the cell
When I give stamps, I open the mail
If I get the west in, I’m not phoning the girl
Had your WCW holding my belt (Behave)
Can’t talk bait on a hot phone (Na)
Fur’s on like it’s Moscow (Yeah)
I met the weed plug in Sweden
Like I’ve gotta try bring the stock home
I was on the road when Ghetts made Sing For Me (Sing for me)
I can make your girlfriend sing for me (Sing for me)
See the car dash like Kimberley (Skrr)
In the trap house eating Indomie
I think they got it in for me
But we don’t take checks in Heath (Never)
We buy out the bar, Charms rest in peace (Ameen)

[Hook: Stormzy]
Bro came with the MAC, he don’t eat fast food much (Boy)
Save all the chat, don’t get your dog moved up (Yeah)
Them man talk shit, nobody asked you cuz’ (Who?)
Ask Flipz, don’t even tark too much (Behave)
Don’t even tark too much (Boy)
Don’t even tark too much
Don’t even tark too much
Don’t even tark too much
Don’t even tark too much (Yeah, oh yeah)
Don’t even tark too much

[Verse 2: Krept]
My name’s Krept, my name’s Tally
I like skets, I like fanny
Not my brudda, stop calling me Akhi
I eat Plantain, you eat batty uh
Don’t put in work, you’re a fool; nerd
Sixteen, murdered you all; hearsed
Big black Merc that I bought; skr
Got your bird on my balls; Spurs (finish him!)
Fam what’s good?
I can’t do it but the mandem could
Bang that Bubu, ban that Buju
I use God, them man use JuJu
Redrum, fam, honour me
Man used to save for their wallabees
Now I’m in business class talking about the economy
Let’s make it fair
Do the truth, don’t take it there
Punch you out your accessories
Lemme just make that clear
Hater, rap scene saviour
You wanna take shots like Barca
But don’t wanna say my name ah

[Hook: Stormzy]
Bro came with the MAC, he don’t eat fast food much
Save all the chat, don’t get your dog moved up
Them man talk shit, nobody asked you cuz’ (Who?)
Ask Flipz, don’t even tark too much (Behave)
Don’t even tark too much
Don’t even tark too much
Don’t even tark too much
Don’t even tark too much
Don’t even tark too much (Yeah)
Don’t even tark too much

[Verse 3: Stormzy]
Okay, flow’s over sick and contagious
Not underground, I’m not famous
Don’t run your mouth around strangers
Chatty mout’, you’re too dangerous
Little chatty mout’, you’re too loud
It’s like chatty mout’s the new style
Them man are doing shows for two thou’
Kon’ stop laughing man, you’re too foul
Anyway I hit the curb and do street
Scrap the Merc and do Jeeps
Can’t hold the phone, you’re too weak
Plus I went gold in two weeks (Behave)
Plus I go hard on my ones
I am nobody’s son (No)
Done things that nobody’s done
Come off my name, it’s over, I won
Aight lickle man, check this sket
Your chain jacked and you called us
Feds in my crib, tryna leave a man doorless
Paid for my door and they paid for my time
‘Cause the feds don’t wanna see another black August
Sorted, bought new floors but I’m flawless
Ring ring, trap sell packs on the corners
Told you niggas that Flipz don’t tark
But I flipped it again, let me tell them on the chorus (Boy)

[Hook: Stormzy]
Bro came with the MAC, he don’t eat fast food much
Save all the chat, don’t get your dog moved up
Them man talk shit, nobody asked you cous’ (Who?)
Ask Flipz, don’t even tark too much (Behave)
Don’t even tark too much
Don’t even tark too much
Don’t even tark too much
Don’t even tark too much
Don’t even tark too much (Yeah)
Don’t even tark too much

Tags Ask Flipz, Lucas Shut, MAC, Pumas Run

Lyrics

Q Money – Neva Had Shit

[Verse 1]
Locked in the Six ho
I done put your daddy on
Dolce Gabana my cologne
How I’m smellin’ like I’m grown
Your money short like Frodo
My money tall like Eiffell
Tower, blowin’ on sour for about an hour
Niggas be cowards, dope like flour
Told her ten minutes then that mean an hour
In the club poppin’ bottles, it’s a champagne shower
Niggas can’t check me, these niggas be frauds
Now money keep pilin’ but a nigga got to count it
Once again I love Ben Frank
That nigga keep me smiling
Might just take a trip to an island

[Chorus]
I’m geeked off in this bitch, I’m geeked off in this bitch
I think that I’m the shit, I think that I’m the shit
Boy why you arrogant, boy why you arrogant?
‘Cause I ain’t never had shit, I never had shit
I’m turnt up in this bitch, I’m turnt up in this bitch
I think that I’m the shit, I think that I’m the shit
Boy why you arrogant, why you so arrogant?
‘Cause I ain’t never had shit, I never had shit

[Verse 2]
I remember days I was broke, it was tragic
Hustlers actin’ funny like a nigga never had it
Niggas ain’t wanna kick it with me just ’cause I ain’t have shit
That’s okay, I’m back bitch, and I brought that MAC bitch
Fuck what another nigga got, I want my own shit
I ain’t take no loan bitch, I got this on my own bitch
Gone off that ‘Tron bitch, and I’m in my zone bitch
Show me my opponent, they can get it if they want it

Tags Ben Frank, Dolce Gabana, MAC

Lyrics

21 Savage – Nothing New

They thought I only rapped about murder and pistols
I’m tryna feed my family, I ain’t being political
You ain’t givin’ out money then they look at you pitiful
You make a couple million, niggas greedy, they envy you
Ayy, fuck that other side, we gon’ shoot up your Sprinter
I used to sell that crack and spray that MAC out that rental
Niggas run and hide when we roll down the window
Got a extendo and a hoodie, he can’t wait ’til December
Got a extendo and a hoodie, he gon’ shoot you on camera
Lost his faith in Jesus Christ, he prayin’ to a bandana
Police gunned his brother down, this shit too hard to handle
Loading up his chopper, he gon’ show ’em Black Lives Matter
Another nigga made the news, it ain’t nothin’ new
He done dropped outta school, it ain’t nothin’ new
He done got his first tool, it ain’t nothin’ new
Mama on that dog food, it ain’t nothin’ new
He smokin’ weed and he changin’, it ain’t nothin’ new
All his friends gang bangin’, it ain’t nothin’ new
Got a pocket full of hundreds and they all blue
Another nigga from the hood tryna ball too
Shit gettin’ outrageous
Treat us like slaves then they lock us up in cages
Young, black, poor, ain’t had a father since a baby
Why you think we skip school and hang out on the pavement?
Why you think we ridin’ ’round with choppers off safety?
Streets cutthroat, nigga, so I’m cutthroat
I used to sell dope, nigga, now I can’t vote
Poppin’ Percocets to kill the pain, I can’t cope
Anger in my genes, they used to hang us up with ropes
Civil rights came so they flood the hood with coke
Breakin’ down my people, tryna kill our faith and hope
They killed Martin Luther King and all he did was spoke
Welcome to the hood, yeah where niggas dyin’ at
Same place where the best chicken gettin’ fried at
Same place where the police killin’, tellin’ lies at
It ain’t just the babies, man, I swear the mama’s cryin’ now
Another nigga made the news, it ain’t nothin’ new
He done dropped outta school, it ain’t nothin’ new
He done got his first tool, it ain’t nothin’ new
Mama on that dog food, it ain’t nothin’ new
He smokin’ weed and he changin’, it ain’t nothin’ new
All his friends gang bangin’, it ain’t nothin’ new
Got a pocket full of hundreds and they all blue
Another nigga from the hood tryna ball too

Tags Black Lives Matter, MAC, Martin Luther King, Poppin Percocets

Lyrics

Attention – Kevin Gates lyrics

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date September 23, 2017
No Comments on Attention – Kevin Gates lyrics

Lyrics Kevin Gates – Attention

Walk without an entourage in which I won’t discuss
Killers in New York in the clink, they know enough
My celly spit in the sink, one blink, I’m sheddin’ blood
If we was in the street, one squeeze would wet him up
Acceptin’ no disrespect, wait, who am I to budge?
Quarter million dollar mouth, who am I? The plug?
Nothin’ that can save you, your life is now above
I wouldn’t even give a f**k if you and I were blood
No one lent their helpin’ hand, got it out the mud
Rappers in the industry see me and give me hugs
Then they gossip with their partners in private, I’ve seen it done
Fat boy you a b***h, you know how I come
MAC 11 rangin’, slangin’, cuddles with the drum
Keep my name out your fuckin’ mouth, endin’ off your tongue
Double 0, 17, my BGs sellin’ drugs
Drought ’round Hollygrove, key need me to flood.(attention)

Attention, you are in the presence of a gangsta
Please don’t be alarmed, for the money I’m impatient
Attention, you are in the presence of a gangsta
Goin’ hard or you starve, I don’t see no sense in waitin’
A gangsta, all this pain, it get rough
No retreat, we don’t sleep, when it’s beef we gon’ hunt
And I’m lookin’ for some niggas with some b***h ways

King Leonidas at his finest, no witness so who assaulted you?
Talk to God, go to war, think, consult with the oracle
Kevin Gates’ face front page in the article
Lawyer paid, dismissed the whole case, they’ll slaughter you
Run and I observe, ain’t no sense in bein’ audible
Quarterback call the audibles, switch the play on the blitz
Harlem at the Rucker, dick suckers watchin’ the kid
Rust color Timbs with a gun up under my gear
Thump through the slums and slump me somethin’ forreal
Cut off one of your fingers and puncture one of your ribs
Youngin’ really thuggin’, guerilla hustlin’ for real
Body tatted, DJ Drama, that gangsta sh*t in my grill
Lay loose with a Llama or stank a b***h if he squeal
Set outside the store that my gangsta b***h just went in
At the pharmacy poppin’ ‘scripts, my prescriptions is gettin’ filled
I love her, took her name and encrypted it in my ear.

Attention, you are in the presence of a gangsta
Please don’t be alarmed, for the money I’m impatient
Attention, you are in the presence of a gangsta
Goin’ hard or you starve, I don’t see no sense in waitin’
A gangsta, all this pain, it get rough versuri-lyrics.info
No retreat, we don’t sleep, when it’s beef we gon’ hunt
And I’m lookin’ for some niggas with some b***h ways
I ain’t sh*t, shaved or bathed in like six days.

Appreciate the help that’s been comin’ on nothin’ will I depend
When asked about the pen, if I’m goin’ back that depends
Faucet water brought me to places to say I ventured
Older I can cope with soda, pull off in the grey Avenger
I want her, she pushin’ kids in the stroller, who? For her sister
The purchase skirts with some purses but couldn’t flirt with her friendship
Jewels, DVD, Raheem murdered by Bishop
Paid in full, no disappearance, dealers be switchin’
.. clip rich then snitch, tellin’ the business
I see this every day, deceit, failure to mention
Ten toes deep, want my money on fleek
Section 8 voucher and public housin’, we livin’
Mama callin’ Meals on Wheels, they won’t deliver
Came up quick in the trenches when we was little
Call a pizza man and rob him when they deliver
I should write a book entitled, I Promise I Really Did It.

Tags DVD, King Leonidas, MAC, Video Kevin Gates

Lyrics

$UICIDEBOY$ – FROM THE BEGINNING OF TIME UNTIL THE END OF TIME Lyrics

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date September 12, 2017
No Comments on $UICIDEBOY$ – FROM THE BEGINNING OF TIME UNTIL THE END OF TIME Lyrics

[Verse 1: Yung Plague]
Rip out a piece of my rib and give it to a bitch
As the snake whispers to her “Ruby does not fucking exist”
So I bit off the head then I chewed it and spit it out
Fell to the ground as I puked up and flipped around
Scales started forming I think that now i am the snake
I am the one they call plague who will never escape
Will forever remain
The omega
The alpha
The chosen one sent here to reign
Who saves all the slaves?
Lil Plague breaking chains
Jesus christ was never raised from the dead
He rots away
Burn a church and watch the flames
Autumn embers turn to grey
Wooden crosses in decay
The flock of sheep now fucking slain

{Verse 2: Lil Remains]
Run up with the motherfucking MAC
On attack
Shoot back
Gat gat
He flat
Leave them bodies where they lay
Let they mothers cry and pray
Nina nina
Oh nina
I need you bad up in my life
Them heathens that scheming they breathing
Look dead or something like demons, woah
Smash a 40oz on the cop cars
Probably just popped ’bout five bars
Sipping hydro
Got a bad cough
Indica dripping down the cigar
It’s that dope head
Drug fiend
Mug mean
Lonely
Shut the fuck up
Y’all annoy me

Tags Lil Plague, MAC

Lyrics

Lil Durk – Goofy (feat. Future & Jeezy)

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date September 7, 2017
No Comments on Lil Durk – Goofy (feat. Future & Jeezy)

[Intro: Future]
Southside
Yeah, Super
Yeah, what we doin’?

[Chorus: Future]
Only the family involved
I don’t fuck with none of these goofy, goofy, goofies
I don’t fuck with none of you goofy, goofies
Only the family involved
I don’t fuck with none of these goofy, goofy, goofies
I don’t fuck with none of you goofy, goofies
Young nigga thought I was trippin’
Had to cut ’em off ’cause you wasn’t gettin’ no money
Young nigga thought I was trippin’
Had to cut it off ’cause you wasn’t catching no hundreds
Shit, I bought the goon from Russia
Shit, I bought the goon from Russia

[Verse 1: Lil Durk]
Took the string off the MAC, you a goofy
Switch up for some pussy you coochie (lean)
How you bad and boujee? (bitch)
No car, no house, lil’ bitch you goofy (goofy)
I wouldn’t mind fuckin’ in the coupe (in the coupe)
I wouldn’t mind fuckin’, no groupies (no groupies)
I wouldn’t mind fuckin’ with goofies (lame)
Send his ass off he a goofy (pussy)
Left his ass stretched on the stretcher (goofy)
Fucked the bitch left her in the huncho (groupie)
Lamborghini price go skrt skrt
Young nigga caught a body got right out
In my neighborhood I’m like Tookie (6-0)
Set it off, uzi
Your jewelry gang, fufi (fake!)
You thinking we goofy we hop out and shoot

[Verse 2: Jeezy]
Coupe from Italy though
I got two of them Rollies
That mean I’m goin’ to Boosie
All that dick ridin’, no lyin’
Don’t know if they’re gangstas or groupies
I can’t give a fuck ’bout these niggas
Def ain’t textin’ these hoes
Sleep with a million in cash
Them my relationship goals
I’m on the phone with a sheik
I’m tryna cop me some gems
I’m in the coupe with a mink
I’m ridin’ facto the rims
D.A. know who I am
Galore is I don’t give a damn
Open my top like a clam
Bentley as white as them grams

Tags Italy, MAC, Russia

Lyrics

Desiigner – Liife (feat. Gucci Mane)

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date August 23, 2017
No Comments on Desiigner – Liife (feat. Gucci Mane)

Taz countin’ all this fuckin’ money
CashMoneyAP
Git, git, grrah
Git, git, grrah
Desiigner
Let me tell you how it is
I’m on some real life, shit life, real life shit
Never satisfied when you’re goin’ past rich
Throw a lot of money, put some bread on caskets
They don’t wan’ see you ball, they just want a draft pick
I’m on some real life, shit life, real life shit
Never satisfied when you’re goin’ past rich
Throw a lot of money, put some bread on caskets
They don’t wan’ see you ball, they just want a draft pick
Told me stay away from the bullshit
Stay focused, here the rhymin’
Shout to Big Blood, fuck the police
Heard Trump in the county
I seen niggas Feds
When I pulled up, yeah and he’s frownin’
Yeah niggas get bounties here
Hit the ocean, (grrah) he drownin’
Bounce bitch, beat bouncin’
Hashtag, click, pound
Niggas talk shit or freestyle
Fuck them, everybody stylin’
Hot 97 turn to 9/11
When the MAC 11, streets rhymin’
Pop off these diamonds
Make a DJ get down with it
I’m on some real life, shit life, real life shit
Never satisfied when you’re goin’ past rich
Throw a lot of money, put some bread on caskets
They don’t wan’ see you ball, they just want a draft pick
I’m on some real life, shit life, real life shit
Never satisfied when you’re goin’ past rich
Throws a lot of money, put some bread on caskets (it’s Gucci)
They don’t wan’ see you ball, they just want a draft pick
I’m on some real life
Real ice, this my real wife
I did real time and I lost my mind twice
On the interstate, gamblin’ like I’m shootin’ dice
I’ll drive the whole night just to get that low price (skrrt)
Everybody rootin’ for the underdog
But when you on the top, they wanna see you fall (fall)
But fuck ’em all
I put my back against the wall (wall)
They hate to see you ball
They wanna see a nigga crawl (fall)
Shout out to Desiigner, he be killin’ shit (Desiigner)
You gotta be a hater, you not feelin’ it (fuck ’em)
G.O.O.D. Music but we make that hood music (han)
And we ain’t gotta brag ’cause we used to it (it’s Gucci!)
I’m on some real life, shit life, real life shit
Never satisfied when you’re goin’ past rich
Throw a lot of money, put some bread on caskets
They don’t wan’ see you ball, they just want a draft pick
I’m on some real life, shit life, real life shit
Never satisfied when you’re goin’ past rich
Throw a lot of money, put some bread on caskets
They don’t wan’ see you ball, they just want a draft pick
Finest (git, grrah)
Desiigner
Hard to find
Fill up the shooters
Man this boy gettin’ money
I’m in love with the money
[?]
Ayy, huh
I’m on some real life, shit life, real life shit
Never satisfied when you’re goin’ past rich
Throw a lot of money, put some bread on caskets
They don’t wan’ see you ball, they just want a draft pick

Tags Big Blood, DJ, Heard Trump, MAC

Lyrics

Chip – Honestly (feat. 67) (League Of My Own II Album)

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date August 22, 2017
No Comments on Chip – Honestly (feat. 67) (League Of My Own II Album)

[Intro: TTC Subway Announcer]
The next station is Don Mills
Don Mills Station

[Chorus: Chip]
You should be honest, G (you should be honest, G)
Honestly, honestly (honestly, honestly)
Admit it, you’re onto me (admit it, admit it)
Honestly, honestly (honestly, honestly)
What made you turn on me? (What made you turn on me?)
Honestly, honestly (honestly, honestly)
Cash Motto policy (policy, policy)
Honesty, honesty (yeah, yeah)
I got a pack on me (I got a pack on me)
I got a stack on me (I got a stack on me)
Get money by honest means (money, more money)
Honestly, honestly (yeah, yeah)
She used to front on me (she used to front on me)
But now she in front of me (now she in front of me)
It’s funny how things have changed (ever so funny)
Honestly, honestly

[Verse 1: Chip]
I got the world on me (I got the world on me)
I got your girl on me (I got your girl on me)
Yo, what’s that smell on me? (Yo, what’s that smell on me?)
Could be Chanel on me (could be Chanel on me)
Could be the weed on me (could be the weed on me)
Green be my scenery (green, green)
You rollin’ cigaweed (you rollin’ cigaweed)
You ain’t as lean as me (lean, lean)
I got the quality (I got the quality)
I got the quantity (I got the quantity)
I’m way too sure in me (I’m way too sure)
And nobody hot for me (no, no)
They took their shots at me (they took their shots at me)
But that wasn’t stoppin’ me (that wasn’t stoppin’ me)
Honestly, honestly (oh, God)
It’s over, don’t bother me (leave me alone)
Labels wan’ talk to me (labels wan’ talk to me)
But what you wan’ offer me (what you wan’ offer me)
Right now, I sign myself (Cash Motto)
Ain’t nobody droppin’ me (own boss)
Deal with me properly (deal with me properly)
Honestly, honestly (honestly, honestly)
If I ain’t your cup of tea (I ain’t your cup of tea)
Still ain’t no muggin’ me (yeah)

[Verse 2: Dimzy]
Alright, honestly, honestly (honestly)
These hookers don’t bother me (bother me)
Got a rusty spinners and [?] with bells
I will smoke man, honestly (bah, bang)
Man’s fuckin’ up the music ting
But feds wanna lock me properly (wanna lock me)
My nigga spent racks on his wrist
Just so he can see the time properly (flexin’)
Honestly, honestly
These niggas rat for a bit of cheese (snitchin’)
My nigga put Luger nines in the MAC
And he crashed that properly (grrah, grrah)
Walk in the club and they clockin’ me (clockin’ me)
Bare iPhones snapshottin’ me (flash)
Ciroc in my cup and I’m faded
Tell bro roll up the broccoli (oi, bill it for me)
I got shooters and we serious
Machinery that’s on deck (big ones)
From a dotty to a mock
Man’s street-sweepin’ in sets (grah)
So we’re chartin’, got an award
But the feds wanna put it to an end (fuck ’em)
I want big bags of that bread
Gotta give mum slices of bread (money)

[Verse 3: LD]
Beg gemmin’ it
Wanna act like you bang for the girls
You’re a fraud and a damn shame (gem)
I still lurk, I still serve
I still get harassed by these damn jakes (these pigs)
Approach this G with caution
Know how to stand in a man’s face (trust)
But it’s calm, we can all be rude (we can do it)
I just smash man up in my Loubs (smash)
Keep thinkin’ that you’re safe at these shows
And awards ’til my 67 gang intrude (gang)
I make mum so proud (mum)
She used to hate all the things that I do (trust)
She don’t even know what I rap about
But it’s legally payin’ my dues (legally payin’ my gang)
I get love from the bluefoots
Cocos, lighties, and Asians too (yeah, all of dat, all of dat)
They’re in love with my violent past
And the music too (yeah, all of dat, all of dat)
I get Ps from the boxes I bruk down
And the show life too (aight)
And honestly I’m still in the field
Two Ls with a four four two (let’s lurk, gang)

Tags Cash Motto, Don Mills Station, MAC, Two Ls

Lyrics

Genuine American Girl Lyrics – Alice Cooper

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date August 1, 2017
No Comments on Genuine American Girl Lyrics – Alice Cooper

I do my hair, I paint my nails
It pours outside, it never fails
So the makeup runs, down my pretty face
I’m a muddy mess, a MAC disgrace

But when I leave this room tonight
I’m gonna look and feel alright
‘Cause my mama says the world’s an oyster
And I’m the pearl

I’m a genuine American girl
A bonafide beauty in an ugly world
My vision of pure femininity
Yeah, I’m a genuine American girl
From my ruby red lips to my bleached blonde curls
I’m everything I hoped to be

I look in the mirror and what do I see?
That a modest little girl is looking back at me
The boys all whistle when I walk by
So I toss my hair and wink my eye

And when I hit the floor tonight
I’m gonna look and feel alright
‘Cause my mama says the world’s an oyster
And I’m the pearl

I’m a genuine American girl
I’m a rock and roll queen in a hip-hop world
My vision of pure femininity
Yeah, I’m a genuine American girl
From my ruby red lips to my bleached blonde curls
I’m everything I hoped to be

Tags MAC

Lyrics

Yns – Yg feat. Blac Youngsta & Yfn Lucci lyrics

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date July 30, 2017
No Comments on Yns – Yg feat. Blac Youngsta & Yfn Lucci lyrics

Lyrics Yg – YNS

Nigga, we don’t give no f*ck
Uh, nigga
Nigga, we gon’ come through with that hundred round, hoe
And, nigga, your baby gon’ be whining
That’s yours, nigga
Yeah, I don’t give no f*ck, nigga
Gangster s**t
One, one, one, huhhh.(yns)

Shoot up the spot
Run from the cop
F*ck on a thot
Go rob the spot
Go buy a watch
Young nigga s**t, we all we got, yeah (4Hunnid)
Buy a drop versuri-lyrics.info
Whippin’ the rock, stash the dope, white in my sock
I hope my ex get hit by a car
F*ck that b***h, yeah
I’ma burn your cap and f*ck your friend, hoe
I don’t really smile, I just grin, hoe
Touch you toes, bend it over
I gotta burn your throat, or you gotta roll.

Ouuuu, what’s up with that neck, hoe?
Ouuuu, suck it ’till she got that strep throat
Ouuuu, what’s up with that check, hoe?
I got it, main reason why I flex, hoe
I’m with it all, always involved, pistol by my draws
Hood nigga, in love, pistol with my broad
Shake my head, I mean that nigga trip my car alarm
Off that Patron, I be feelin’ like, “F*ck all y’all!”
Told that b***h don’t trust me
Told that b***h don’t love me
Told that b***h I’m ratchet
Told that b***h just f*ck me
These popos and these rap niggas f*ck with gangbangers and trap niggas
I don’t shake hands, I don’t dap niggas
I just hold this MAC, nigga.

Shoot up the spot
Run from the cop
F*ck on a thot
Go rob the spot
Go buy a watch
Young nigga s**t, we all we got, yeah (4Hunnid)
Buy a drop
Whippin’ the rock, stash the dope, white in my sock
I hope my ex get hit by a car
F*ck that b***h, yeah
I’ma burn your cap and f*ck your friend, hoe
I don’t really smile, I just grin, hoe
Touch you toes, bend it over
I gotta burn your throat, or you gotta roll.

Go cath a body, lil’ nigga, go hit a lick
How the f*ck you poppin’ and ain’t never pop s**t?
Either or, we ain’t rockin’ with it
Get your noggin split
Have your s**t lookin’ like a whip with no top on it
Hopped right out on it
Watch me take your hoe, nigga, it’s a robbery
Niggas sounding like me, why the f*ck they mocking me?
And I’ve been chasing dough and I can’t let them follow me
And if they go, we gon’.

You scared, I’ma bust your a*s
I make my haters mad
They wish I was dead
Run in the house, run in the house, run in the house
Run up your bands, yeah
Go put a scam, yeah
.40 hangin’ out my pants, yeahhhh.

Tags MAC, Video Yg

Lyrics

Levels – Mango Foo lyrics

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date July 20, 2017
No Comments on Levels – Mango Foo lyrics

Lyrics Mango Foo – Levels

It’s levels when you gettin’ cheddar
Bigger watch, bigger bezel
Gold chains, heavy metal
b*tches dig me like a shovel
I never been to Coachella
But my trap look like a rave
And my neck look like a slave
I been gettin’ money, I’m straight
It’s levels when you gettin’ cheddar
It’s levels when you gettin’ cheddar
It’s levels when you gettin’ cheddar
Bigger watch, bigger bezel
It’s levels when you gettin’ cheddar
It’s levels when you gettin’ cheddar
It’s levels when you gettin’ cheddar
I never been to Coachella.

I never been to Coachella
But my trap look like a rave
I been getttin’ money, I’m paid
I got chains on me, no slave
Big rocks in the bezel
Versuri-lyrics.info
Young nigga get on my level
Scrape the pot for the extras
Trap laboratory, no Dexter
Do a drive-by in a Tesla
Ballin’ like I’m Clyde Drexler
Get my codeine from the medical
I would never put a b*tch on a pedestal
These b*tches be feelin’ me
You can’t imagine what I’m finna be
You can’t imagine what I’m finna do
I’m blowing up like an inner tube
All of my niggas is riders
We locked in, can’t divide us
These b*tches lost tryna find us
Spread the money like a sinus
Bando he trappin’ in the back
Dealin’ hand in hand, no pitty pat
If we run off on you, you can’t get it back
We might run up on you with the mini MAC
She put the dope in her kitty-cat
I keep the Glock in the front seat
f*ck 12 so I’m serving on front street
All of these niggas is lunch meat
How you go big on big?
Meek Mill, I done leveled up
Old rappers need to give it up
No Milwaukee, I got plenty bucks
We know your bag ain’t big enough
You niggas’ face card outdated
Still rappin’ but you ain’t made it
Havin’ debt but you ain’t paid it
I got the streets behind me
All of my niggas is gon’ eat
I got some real diamonds on me
I really came from the concrete.

It’s levels when you gettin’ cheddar
Bigger watch, bigger bezel
Gold chains, heavy metal
b*tches dig me like a shovel
I never been to Coachella
But my trap look like a rave
And my neck look like a slave
I been gettin’ money, I’m straight
It’s leveeels when you gettin’ cheddar
It’s leveeels when you gettin’ cheddar
It’s leveeels when you gettin’ cheddar
Bigger watch, bigger bezel
It’s leveeels when you gettin’ cheddar
It’s leveeels when you gettin’ cheddar
It’s leveeels when you gettin’ cheddar
I never been to Coachellaaa.
Mango Foo lyrics
Video Mango Foo

Tags Clyde Drexler, MAC, Meek Mill, Video Mango Foo

Lyrics

Desiigner – Liife Lyrics (feat. Gucci Mane)

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date July 15, 2017
No Comments on Desiigner – Liife Lyrics (feat. Gucci Mane)

DESIIGNER
Liife Lyrics (feat. Gucci Mane)

Taz countin’ all this f**kin’ money
CashMoneyAP
Git, git, grrrrrah

Git, git, grrrrrah
Desiigner
Let me tell you how it is

I’m on some real life, shit life, real life shit
Never satisfied when you’re goin’ past rich
Throws a lot of money put some bread on caskets
They don’t wan’ see you ball they just want a draft pick
I’m on some real life, shit life, real life shit
Never satisfied when you’re goin’ past rich
Throws a lot of money put some bread on caskets
They don’t wan’ see you ball they just want a draft pick

Told me stay away from the bullshit
Stay focused, here the rhymin’
Shout to Big Blood, f**k the police
Heard Trump in the county
I seen niggas Feds
When I pulled up, yeah and he’s frownin’
Yeah niggas get bounties here
Hit the ocean, he drownin’
Bounce bitch, beat bouncin’
Hashtag, click, pound
Niggas talk shit or freestyle
f**k them, everybody stylin’
Hot 97 turn to 9/11
When the MAC 11, streets rhymin’
Pop off these diamonds
Make a DJ get down with it

I’m on some real life, shit life, real life shit
Never satisfied when you’re goin’ past rich
Throws a lot of money put some bread on caskets
They don’t wan’ see you ball they just want a draft pick
I’m on some real life, shit life, real life shit
Never satisfied when you’re goin’ past rich
Throws a lot of money put some bread on caskets (It’s Gucci)
They don’t wan’ see you ball they just want a draft pick

I’m on some real life
Real ice, this my real wife
I did real time and I lost my mind twice
On the interstate, gamblin’ like I’m shootin’ dice
I’ll drive the whole night just to get that low price
Everybody rootin’ for the underdog
But when you on the top, they wanna see you fall
But f**k ’em all
I put my back against the wall
They hate to see you ball
They wanna see a nigga crawl
Shout out to Desiigner, he be killin’ shit (Desiigner)
You gotta be a hater you not feelin’ it (f**k ’em)
G.O.O.D. Music but we make that hood music
And we ain’t gotta brag ’cause we used to it
(It’s Gucci!)

Funny
Desiigner
All the finest
Fill up the shooters
Man this boy gettin’ money
I’m in love with the money
Threw the hate in the fire

Tags Big Blood, Heard Trump, Liife Lyrics, MAC

Lyrics

Dae Dae – New Wave

[Intro]
Boy they already know what it is when I talk this shit here
Dae Dae let’s go and give it to ’em boy
Let’s go’n get ’em out the way, it’s a new wave nigga

[Verse 1]
Neck piece too lit, this bitch too lit
AP two bricks, bad bitch too thick
Fashion, oohwee, backend, oohwee
Kardashian, two piece, MAC or that Uzi
Trappin’ by pool creek, action when it’s ’bout me
They say you not the man in the streets
I’m flashy, now you got with the key
I crashed it, now I’m in that new straight A Jeep
It’s happenin’, they finally freed my fuckin’ brother D
Don’t panic, man time to turn up on them beats
I’m dangerous, oh you actin’ hard? nigga please
Gang with me, and we in the club one hundred deep nigga

[Chorus]
This bitch too lit, thug bitch, Ruth Chris
Dark bitch, dark shades, dark pay, okay
Red bitch, Charday, red bottoms, two K
Yachtmaster forty K, Atlanta new wave
This bitch too lit, thug bitch, Ruth Chris
Dark bitch, dark shades, dark pay, okay
Red bitch, Charday, red bottoms, two K
Yachtmaster forty K, Atlanta new wave

[Verse 2]
Atlanta new wave, I got Bluray, woo
Still in the burbs, bitch I’m too paid
The Forgis make me swerve when I’m cruisin’
I know I make ’em nervous how I do this shit nigga
Pop the donk on Irving, leave the keys in the ignition
And I’m shooting like Curry nigga, try me I’ma swish it
My big chain nervous, I got racks and I got glizzy
In that blue excursion, I’m in traffic sitting on inches
I might go to Follies, go to Flame and throw a twenty
I might take her shopping buy her that but ain’t no feeling
She still go to college but her daddy don’t be tripping
And I’m with my partners, time to turn up with my niggas

[Verse 3]
It’s the new wave, I got blue rays
Might pull out the garage in the new Wraith
Fuck ’em if they hatin’, bitch I’m too paid
I’m clutchin’ ’cause they hatin’ but it’s cool, hate
My bitch too lit, your bitch my bitch
Big rim, big crib, four-fifth, right here
I won’t let you try me ever ever again
This lil bitch want molly, she want percs and shit (molly percocets)
You know it ain’t no problem, we gon’ work the shit
Order up them bottles, Dae Dae got this bitch lit
And we want them hoes that bring all her friends
We got this bitch loaded, go’n and turn up, yeah

Tags AP, Dae Dae, MAC, Ruth Chris

Lyrics

21 Savage – Nothin New (Issa Album)

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date July 7, 2017
No Comments on 21 Savage – Nothin New (Issa Album)

[Verse 1]
They thought I only rapped about murder and pistols
I’m tryna feed my family, I ain’t being political
You ain’t givin’ out money then they look at you pitiful
You make a couple million, niggas greedy, they envy you
Ayy, fuck that other side, we gon’ shoot up your Sprinter
I used to sell that crack and spray that MAC out that rental
Niggas run and hide when we roll down the window
Got a extendo and a hoodie, he can’t wait ’til December
Got a extendo and a hoodie, he gon’ shoot you on camera
Lost his faith in Jesus Christ, he prayin’ to a bandana
Police gunned his brother down, this shit too hard to handle
Loading up his chopper, he gon’ show ’em black lives matter

[Chorus]
Another nigga made the news, it ain’t nothin’ new
He done dropped outta school, it ain’t nothin’ new
He done got his first tool, it ain’t nothin’ new
Mama own that dog food, it ain’t nothin’ new
He smokin’ weed and he changin’, it ain’t nothin’ new
All his friends gang bangin’, it ain’t nothin’ new
Got a pocket full of hundreds and they all blue
Another nigga from the hood tryna ball too

[Verse 2]
Shit gettin’ outrageous
Treat us like slaves then they lock us up in cages
Young, black, poor, ain’t had a father since a baby
Why you think we skip school and hang out on the pavement?
Why you think we ridin’ ’round with choppers off safety?
Streets cutthroat, nigga, so I’m cutthroat
I used to sell dope, nigga, now I can’t vote
Poppin’ Percocets to kill the pain, I can’t cope
Anger in my genes, they used to hang us up with ropes
Civil rights came so they flood the hood with coke
Breakin’ down my people, tryna kill our faith and hope
They killed Martin Luther King and all he did was spoke
Welcome to the hood, yeah where niggas dyin’ at
Same place where the best chicken gettin’ fried at
Same place where the police killin’, tellin’ lies at
It ain’t just the babies, man, I swear the mama’s cryin’ now

Tags Jesus Christ, MAC, Martin Luther King, Poppin Percocets

Lyrics

Liife – Desiigner feat. Gucci Mane lyrics

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date July 6, 2017
No Comments on Liife – Desiigner feat. Gucci Mane lyrics

Lyrics Desiigner – Liife

Let me tell you how it is
I’m on some real life, s**t life, real life s**t
Never satisfied when you’re goin’ past rich
Throws a lot of money put some bread on caskets
They don’t wan’ see you ball they just want a draft pick
I’m on some real life, s**t life, real life s**t
Never satisfied when you’re goin’ past rich
Throws a lot of money put some bread on caskets
They don’t wan’ see you ball they just want a draft pick.(liife)

Told me stay away from the bullshit
Stay focused, here the rhymin’
Shout to Big Blood, f**k the police
Heard Trump in the county
I seen niggas Feds
When I pulled up, yeah and he’s frownin’
Yeah niggas get bounties here
Hit the ocean, (grrrrrah) he drownin’
Bounce b***h, beat bouncin’
Hashtag, click, pound
Niggas talk s**t or freestyle
F**k them, everybody stylin’
Hot 97 turn to 9/11
When the MAC 11, streets rhymin’
Pop off these diamonds
Make a DJ get down with it.

I’m on some real life, s**t life, real life s**t
Never satisfied when you’re goin’ past rich
Throws a lot of money put some bread on caskets
They don’t wan’ see you ball they just want a draft pick
I’m on some real life, s**t life, real life s**t
Never satisfied when you’re goin’ past rich
Throws a lot of money put some bread on caskets (it’s Gucci)
They don’t wan’ see you ball they just want a draft pick.

I’m on some real life
Real ice, this my real wife
I did real time and I lost my mind twice
On the interstate, gamblin’ like I’m shootin’ dice
I’ll drive the whole night just to get that low price (skrrt)
Everybody rootin’ for the underdog
But when you on the top, they wanna see you fall (fall)
But f**k ’em all versuri-lyrics.info
I put my back against the wall (wall)
They hate to see you ball
They wanna see a nigga crawl (fall)
Shout out to Desiigner, he be killin’ s**t (Desiigner)
You gotta be a hater you not feelin’ it (f**k ’em)
G.O.O.D. Music but we make that hood music (haaan)
And we ain’t gotta brag ’cause we used to it
(It’s Gucci!)

I’m on some real life, s**t life, real life s**t
Never satisfied when you’re goin’ past rich
Throws a lot of money put some bread on caskets
They don’t wan’ see you ball they just want a draft pick
I’m on some real life, s**t life, real life s**t
Never satisfied when you’re goin’ past rich
Throws a lot of money put some bread on caskets
They don’t wan’ see you ball they just want a draft pick.

Funny,
Desiigner
All the finest
Fill up the shooters
Man this boy gettin’ money
I’m in love with the money
Ayyyy, huhhh.

I’m on some real life, s**t liife, real life s**t
Never satisfied when you’re goin’ past rich
Throws a lot of money put some bread on caskets
They don’t wan’ see you ball they just want a draft pickkk.
Desiigner lyrics
Video Desiigner

Tags Big Blood, Gucci Mane, Heard Trump, MAC

Lyrics

OG Maco – Pigs Lyrics

[Intro: OG Maco]
Let the bodies hit the
Let the bodies hit the floor, let the bodies hit the floor
Let the bodies hit the
Let the bodies hit the floor, let the bodies hit the floor
Let the bodies hit the
Let the bodies hit the floor, let the bodies hit the floor
Let the bodies hit the floor

[Verse 1: OG Maco]
Never talk to pigs, I ain’t Charlotte
It’s a web of lies and I gotta dodge ’em
Collared for a crime and the system dog ’em
Niggas’ fleas off ’em, coppin’ pleas often
Freedom seem certain
And if he ain’t talkin’ he your real partner
Got a couple shottas with a rat problem
Put some cheese on em, got a gat callin’
Glock 40, hot lead on ’em
Blood bed for ’em
Really love life, he’ll beg for it
Niggas so trife, pat your back with a knife
From the dark, never seen a face
Barely seen a spark
Bark bark, it’s a dog in the night
Hawk watch on the birds servin’ white
He ain’t really got the nerves for the curb
Lil homie hit his head when he Gurb
Sprayin’ hollows in the turn with the swerve
Sipping sipping, hit the cup with the syrup
In the field with a MAC and my word
Walls talkin and the calls dropping
Got the Feds plottin’, dirty cops rockin’
And the opps watchin, thinkin’ all profit
And they all talkin’ ’til the dog barkin’
ADVERTISEMENT

[Hook: ManMan Savage]
Every day niggas out here catching bodies
Keep a bad bitch with me, look at her body
Moving in silence like I’m ‘luminati
Give her a xan, she give me her body
Al Capone shit, I ride with the shotty
I’m hearing voices, I might kill everybody
Don’t talk to me bitch, I don’t talk to nobody
Don’t talk to me bitch, I don’t talk to nobody
Every day niggas out here catching bodies
Keep a bad bitch with me, look at her body
Moving in silence like I’m ‘luminati
Give her a xan, she give me her body
Al Capone shit, I ride with the shotty
I’m hearing voices, I might kill everybody
Don’t talk to me bitch, I don’t talk to nobody
Don’t talk to me bitch, I don’t talk to nobody

[Verse 2: XVL Hendrix]
I don’t talk to nobody
Seven days I been geeking off molly
She rub on my body
Then she wanna come and hold me scotty
I get that money then double up, double up
Get whacked off for a cheap price
I fuck with a lot of my country niggas
They like to get geeked up on ice
Twenty-twenty vision, I can see this shit right
Got a stick on the seat and it’s sitting nice
Can’t fuck with these niggas, they probably police
They’ll cut they ties just to get you life
Fuck ’em, I ain’t seein’ niggas live life
First up, nigga I paid the price
Sipping that mud, I do not like ice
Young Hendrix, I can get whatever you like
Young nigga, man I earned my own stripes
Stacking chips just for me to get right
Fuck her feelings, man I’m catching a flight
Run the racks up all day and all night
Chasing these deals while I’m poppin’ these ‘cets
Before I hit twenty-five I’ma see a mil
Got the [?] jawn, that shit for real
In my city man it’s kill or be killed

[Outro: OG Maco]
Let the bodies hit the
Let the bodies hit the floor, let the bodies hit the floor
Let the bodies hit the floor

Tags ADVERTISEMENT, Al Capone, MAC, Young Hendrix

Lyrics

Doe Boy – 956 Nights (feat. DJ Esco)

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date April 17, 2017
No Comments on Doe Boy – 956 Nights (feat. DJ Esco)

[Intro: Doe Boy]
If Esco don’t trust you, I’m gon’ shoot you
If young Metro don’t trust you, I’m gon’ shoot you
You know how we rockin’ for young Future man

[Hook: Doe Boy]
I got 56 shots, nigga play with Esco
Choppers start boomin’, nigga play with Metro
But nah this ain’t no Metro, this a beat by Lex though
FBG the gang, bitch come sign to Death Row

[Verse: Doe Boy]
This ain’t gangsta rap, I’m just bringing hood back
Let a savage in the game, I make ’em feel like Suge back
All my niggas shoot straps, sell dog and cook crack
He a pussy with some money so you know we took that
9-1-1, the streets need me
The streets love Beezy ’cause the streets believe me
Bitch my hoe card don’t exist
Cross and you gon’ meet the stick
Bitch we riding like a Lyft
Wit guns we can barely lift
Bitch I’m flexin’, I’m cappin’, you lackin’, I’m jackin’
I pull out this cannon, demanding, not asking
You rappin’, not trapping, I’m savage, you acting
You taxing, they snatching, they pull up, get active
Why these pussies tryna beef, I’m not even in they reach
Got some youngins tryna eat, I’ll feed you to the streets
Oh these niggas think it’s sweet? where you at, I’m tryna link
Got that draco on the seat, make ’em JuJu on that beat
Hopped in da Audi, shooting then I’m outty
Niggas at my neck but I got all these goons around me
Broke niggas bore me, you can fight this .40
Magazine clip, I’ll let it tell a story
Ridin’ through the trenches but we pulling up in Porsches
Shooter on the streets but go to jail and get extorted
That’s why I don’t need the MAC
This the truth, it ain’t a rap
Last nigga ran up on me on the Fam, he took a nap
He ain’t really ’bout that life that pussy boy just talk that
Fifty thousand ’round my neck, I swear yo life don’t cost that
I can’t pay that boy attention ’cause he ain’t no boss yet
I got niggas that catch bodies they just ain’t get caught yet
Hold on

[Hook: Doe Boy]
I got 56 shots, nigga play with Esco
Choppers goin’ boomin’, nigga play with Metro
But nah this ain’t no Metro, this a beat by Lex though
FBG the gang, bitch come sign to Death Row

[Outro: Doe Boy]
Streets need me nigga
Gang gang
Doe!

Tags Death Row, FBG, MAC

Lyrics

GoldLink – Crew (feat. Brent Faiyaz & Shy Glizzy)

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date March 3, 2017
No Comments on GoldLink – Crew (feat. Brent Faiyaz & Shy Glizzy)

[Hook: Brent Faiyaz]
She see money all around me
I look like I’m the man, yeah
But I was down and out like last week
Tell me where have you been?
You came out of hiding, girl
Don’t act like I’m your man
You just a fan, you don’t hold rank
Don’t hold no rank

[Verse 1: GoldLink]
Bet against a real ass nigga with a sick ass mouth
And a slick ass flow
Catch-a-bullet-’round-me-nigga and a player when
I’m comin’ for the kitty, I’m a fool, goddamn
Do it for my niggas in the ghost right there
Do it for my niggas in the ghost right now
Niggas got killed for the boy living dreams in the hills
And it wasn’t for the boy right now
Goddamn, what a time, what a year
We are what them young boys fear
I kill, never been killed, that’s real, no lies
You can tell that from our pulse right now
Bet you wanna fuck me now
Bet you wanna love me down
Girl, you can’t tie me down like Ray J said
But know I’m down
Trigger nigga show me something
Shake it like you owe me something
Pushin’ on the pussy like a button
Came four times, fifth time you bustin’
Still gettin’ rowdy in the function
Bitches on my dick like it’s nothing
Everywhere I go now, always got shit bumpin’, jumpin’, bumpin’, jumpin’, yeah

[Verse 2: Shy Glizzy]
Hey, nice to meet, I’m Young Jefe, who you be?
Got the beast in Southeast, thousands clappin’ to this beat
She invite me to her crib, I walk in she see my heat
She said "But I live in the hills" bitch, that’s just the way I sleep
Stop that madness, I’m a savage
In traffic with MAC 11’s
Baddest bitch and she Spanish
I fly her to Calabasas
We get nasty, I’m her daddy
Does she know a nigga ain’t average?
Ain’t nothing wrong with fake asses
Bitch, turn around let’s make magic
I’m geekin’, uh huh I’m on it
Don’t look at me like you want it
Tell ’em that we ain’t stuntin’
In fourth down we ain’t puntin’ it
King of District of Columbia
Can’t come here without a permit
This shit really a jungle, gorillas and anacondas

Tags MAC, Young Jefe

Lyrics

Future – Flip (Future Album)

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date February 17, 2017
No Comments on Future – Flip (Future Album)

[Intro]
If you gang, gang, gang, that’s what’s up with me
Freebandz
Fire Marshall

[Chorus]
Love a tool only ’til I swap it out
We got papers, flip my stones, it ain’t no clouds
Snatch a brand new Range Rover with the captain seats
And I keep a MAC on me like I’m Master P
Captain seats in my Maybach, in my Range Rover
Then I flip, flip, flip, flip, game over (game over)
Captain seats in the Maybach, in the Range Rover
Then I flip, flip, flip, flip, game over (game over)

[Verse 1]
2017 with the captains (flip)
The price too high, you must be cappin’ (flip)
All these Franklins got me trappin’ (flip, flip)
Sippin’ on Screw, I’m very active (flip, flip)
A half a milli, got matted
Your main bitch got batted
Got a clear view, no static
That’s a VVS on my fabrics
Chanel drapes one of one
I pay the rates to the Lord
Blitz, nigga, I’m a boss
Had the mail with me, I’m a star

[Verse 2]
I’m gone past the moon, what you tellin’ me?
That nigga’s a goon, what you tellin’ me?
The bitch in the room, what you tellin’ me?
I’m hotter than the sun, what you tellin’ me?
These niggas my sons, what you tellin’ me?
They eat up my crumbs, what you tellin’ me?
Your brother a bum, what you tellin’ me?
Straight out the slums, what you tellin’ me?
I came out the mud, I’m stashin’ the drugs
Gotta bring out the tub of Ace
I was never in love with the Wraith
Got a new Panorama on the way
Went to Pluto, beyond with my cape
Can’t run when the drum in your face
I’m the mothafuckin’ don, why you hatin’?

[Outro]
Host: Hahahaha, we back, baby! Yeah, listen, once again this is Got It All Cap City Podcast, internet broadcast. Our credibility and validity is in… listen, man! If you ain’t fuckin’ with us, man, you ain’t fuckin’ with the industry, man. Okay we got the next caller from Vienna. Uh oh, hello?
Woman: Hello!?
Host: Oh she from Campbellton. Okay we got our next caller from Campbellton. You are the winner! Yes!
Woman: You can hear me on the radio?
Host: Yes!
Woman: I’m finna get you a new daddy, fuckin’ we gonna get me a baller, fuckin’….
Host: Yes, you have won the one and only Cap City baller rapper kit
Woman: And I’ve been workin’ too, man, I’ve been drinkin’ this, some flat tummy, see, so I can get me a baller
Host: Okay the flat, but listen, baby, you have somethin’ more important than a flat tummy, you are gonna win a lifetime supply of the Asian Kung Pao saran wrap condoms
Woman: Ooh I need them
Host: Yes they’re guaranteed to pop. And look we’re also gonna throw in, listen, this is special. We got the two millimeter geo globe tracking device system so you can…
Woman: So I’ma know how to pull up on him to tell him this his baby too
Host: Yes, yes, yes, baby! That is free game from Cap City Records, baby, we appreciate you callin’, we gon’ put you on hold
Woman: Hold on, hold on you did not tell them to follow me on Instagram, I’m tryna get my followers up
Host: Uh huh okay tell ’em where to follow you at
Woman: Y’all, please, ballers only, dudes who got the bag, who got the check, I need all y’all to follow me on T Hot Pocket underscore—y’all got that?
Host: Yeah okay we got it
Woman: I said it real slow so make sure y’all got that
Host: We got that, baby, we got that, baby
Woman: Follow me! What’s up!?
Host: Okay Cap City Records
Woman: Ballers only, no broke niggas
Host: Okay but Cap City, we gon’ to break, go to break!

Tags Host Uh, Host Yes, MAC, Range Rover

Lyrics

Future – Flip lyrics

If you gang, gang, gang, that’s what’s up with me
Freebandz
Fire Marshall

Tags Host Yeah, Host Yes, MAC, Range Rover

Lyrics

Solo 45 – 5ive (feat. Stormzy)

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date February 9, 2017
No Comments on Solo 45 – 5ive (feat. Stormzy)

[Verse 1: Solo 45]
Rah
Alright, roll, roll, roll
Space between the cars, go, go, go
Some of us are dench yo
I don’t give a flying fuck
Pagans gotta go, go, go
Keep it on the low, low, low
Nosey bastards askin’ questions
Tell them niggas “I said so”

[Bridge: Solo 45]
Five guns, five whips, five guns, five whips
Five guns, five whips, five guns, five whips
Five guns, five whips, five guns, five whips
Spot any antennae, switch ‘em off

[Hook: Solo 45]
Let the MAC ring, ring, ring, ring
Ring, ring, ring
Let it ring, ring, ring, ring
Ring, ring, ring
Let it ring, ring, ring, ring
Ring, ring, ring
Let it
Spot any antennae
Switch ‘em off, let the MAC ring

Let it ring, ring, ring, ring
Ring, ring, ring
Let it ring, ring, ring, ring
Ring, ring, ring
Let it ring, ring, ring, ring
Ring, ring, ring
Spot any antenna
Switch ‘em off, let the MAC… Five guns, five whips
Five guns, five whips
Five guns, five whips
Five guns, five whips
Five guns, five whips
Five guns, five whips
[Verse 2: Stormzy]
See you got goons and I got goons
But I swear down, you don’t wanna see mine vex
I don’t care if you bang weights
When I run up on you when you’re doing [?] chest
Them boy there been copying bars
So don’t be alarmed when he thief mine next
I don’t sneak diss, fuck that sneak shit
Tell a little nigga “look, be direct”
Who are you? What you sayin’? What you on?
Yeah, fuck that, what you doing? Where you from?
Beg man don’t say my name cuh’ I [?]
Walk in, slap mans face then I’m gone
I can tell that they feel I’m dumb
Chattin’ ‘bout views like it’s all that I’ve done
Hatin’ pricks wanna chat about L’s
Come we discuss all the wars that I’ve won
Big bro’s here, tell 45 come
Rinse that kick ‘til the 45’s done
He was like “I wanna try draw for the MAC”
I was like “yeah, but the 45’s dumb”
Said “bring your choice, bring four, five guns”
The MAC-10 rings, but the 45 hums
He said I’m gonna bring a 45 too
So then we attack like a 4-5-1
Boy

[Bridge: Solo 45]
Five guns, five whips
Five guns, five whips
Five guns, five whips
Five guns, five whips
My nigga five guns, five whips, five guns, five whips
Five guns, five whips, five guns, five whips
Five guns, five whips, five guns, five whips
Spot any antennae, switch ‘em off

Let it ring, ring, ring, ring
Ring, ring, ring
Let it ring, ring, ring, ring
Ring, ring, ring
Let it ring, ring, ring, ring
Ring, ring, ring
Spot any antennae
Switch ‘em off, let the MAC… Five guns, five whips
Five guns, five whips
Five guns, five whips
Five guns, five whips
Five guns, five whips
Five guns, five whips

Tags MAC

Lyrics

Wiley – P Money (Remix) (feat. P Money) (Godfather Album)

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date January 30, 2017
No Comments on Wiley – P Money (Remix) (feat. P Money) (Godfather Album)

[Hook: Wiley]
I tell a don it ain’t funny
That’s why I practice, so I stay on point like P Money
I tell a don it ain’t funny
That’s why I practice, so I stay on point like P Money
I tell a don it ain’t funny
That’s why I practice, so I stay on point like P Money, P Money
I tell a don it ain’t funny
That’s why I practice, so I stay on point like P Money, P Money

[Verse 1: Wiley & P Money]
I ain’t never been the type of spitter on a track
To have a donny murk me and never murk back
‘Cause all I wanna do is see my name at the top
That’s why I can’t act like I never heard that
I’ve got ears, am I hearing, any pussy test, I will spear him
Them man have got one bag of chat
They’ve got one bag of Ps, what you bringin’ round here?
Ask them what they’re doin’ round here
Cuh if they want a bit of mine, tell a man I want to get rid of guys
I’m known for rollin’ with man that’s clearly uncivilised
Man will fill in these pitta guys
About they wanna take man for a mouse
‘Til I press a button and get your fanpage minimised
Every single one of their flows are opitimised
Everyone’s sick ’til I realised
Nobody’s sicker than the sickest MC
When you realise nobody’s slewin’ ’em again
I ain’t Skepta, but man’s been there, done that
And now man is on doin’ it again
Don’t touch my set, you’ll ruin it again
There he goes offbeat, you’re doin’ it again
Mad, man can’t diss my mum
Every clash I’ve had, I’m on bringin’ in a skeng
Oi, Wiley, tell them again

[Verse 2: Wiley]
When I was broke, I was better at this
My money got me couple iceberg sweaters and this
When I started, I didn’t know I’d get on the list
Of MCs who were top flight, sprayin’ on the top mic
Ain’t done the work but you boast that it’s not right
Used to waste grands on garms but now I shop right
First ten years, G, I was on a block hype
Some MCs are alike but I’m not like
None of them, and I’ve had wars with a ton of ’em
Nobody’s ever gonna do what we done again
Put me in any scene, I end up runnin’ it
My crew are winners, we end up sonnin’ them
Cuh my dons stand on the frontline
Ready for the war in the cold or the sunshine
You wanna flop in your game but I run mine
I be in the skillzone, bullseye, one time

[Hook: Wiley]
That’s why I practice, so I stay on point like P Money (I’m telling you)
I tell a don it ain’t funny
That’s why I practice, so I stay on point like P Money (brap, brap)
I tell a don it ain’t funny
That’s why I practice, so I stay on point like P Money, P Money
I tell a don it ain’t funny (hey)
That’s why I practice, so I stay on point like P Money, P Money

[Outro: P Money sample]
Yo, a lot of these MCs think they’re bad
I held the MAC and the MAC went mad
This something screaming ratatat
And now you’re a myth nobody know, blam
Everybody scatters, nobody look back
Don’t drink loads and think that you’re rough, blud
I will show you Jack and Daniels gassed

Tags MAC

Lyrics

What the price – Migos lyrics

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date January 21, 2017
No Comments on What the price – Migos lyrics

Lyrics Migos – What the price

Tell me the price
Tell me the price
Tell me the price
Tell me the price
No surprise.(what the price)

What’s the price?
Prices, prices, going up
Prices, prices (price)
The bitch bad, I slide
Prices, prices, going up
Hold on, yeah
Prices, prices (price)
What’s the price?
What’s the price?
Prices going up, prices
Hold on
(Price, going up yeah)
I slide
(skrrt skrrt, skrrt skrrt, going up)
Hold on
(Woo woo woo, priceee).

Bad Mona Lisa
Slide with my people
Pink slip for the ride
But what’s in the trunk, it’s illegal
Came from dimes, no cosigns
You can read between the lines
Like a pro skater did my own grinds.

Tell me what the preacher preach about (preacher)
Tell me what the teacher teach about (teacher)
I’ma go find me a better route
That bullshit and cap you can leave it out (cap)
They talking but ain’t tryna hear me out
Won’t open the door, tryna leave me out (open)
I’ma pull up and just empty out (brrr)
Come through, just make sure you clear me out (brrr).

Oohhh
Clear me out, clear me out
Just clear me out
Clear me out.

What’s the price?
Prices, prices, going up
Prices, prices (price)
The bitch bad, I slide
Prices, prices, going up
Hold on, yeah
Prices, prices (price)
What’s the price?
What’s the price?
Prices going up, prices
Hold on
(price, going up yeah)
I slide
(skrrt skrrt, skrrt skrrt, going up)
Hold on (shit goin’ up, you know what I mean)
(Woo woo, price)
Offset!

I do not care what the tag will say (I don’t)
I done brought out a big bag today (bag)
I just pulled up with the MAC today (brrr)
I don’t plan on going out sad today (brrr)
Pay what you owe, eighty a show (eighty)
Close the curtain and smoke in the Ghost (gas)
Hop in the i8 and lift up the door (skrrt)
Young rich nigga, more money than I owe (hey)
Got your hoe at the condo, no clothes, yeah
Climb on a young nigga pole, yeah
You don’t wanna go there (nah)
Sticks and the dracos in here (brrr)
Got racks in the back of my pants (racks)
Got racks in the bachelor pad (racks)
These bitches they fuck for a bag (smash)
And you niggas gon’ go out sad.

Bad Mona Lisa (bad)
Slide with my people (skrrt skrrt)
Pink slip for the ride (skrrt skrrt)
But what’s in the trunk, it’s illegal
Came from dimes (dimes), no cosigns (no cosigns)
You can read between the lines
Like a pro skater, did my own grinds, yeah (grinds).

What the price?
What’s the price?
Prices going up, prices
Hold on
(price, going up yeah)
The bitch bad, I slide
(skrrt skrrt, skrrt skrrt, going up)
Hold on
(Woo woo woo, price, yeahhh!)
Migos lyrics
Video price

Tags Bad Mona Lisa, MAC

Lyrics

MIGOS – What The Price lyrics

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date January 20, 2017
No Comments on MIGOS – What The Price lyrics

Tell me the price
Tell me the price
Tell me the price
Tell me the price
No surprise

What’s the price?
Prices, prices, going up
Prices, prices (price)
The big bag, I slide
Prices, prices, going up
Hold on, yeah
Prices, prices (price)
What’s the price?
What’s the price?
Prices going up, prices
Hold on
(price, going up yeah)
The big bag, I slide
(sker sker, sker sker, going up)
Hold on
(Woo woo woo, price)

Bad Mona Lisa
Slide with my people
Pink slip for the ride, but what’s in the trunk, it’s illegal
Came from dimes, no cosigns
You can read between the lines
Like a pro skater did my own grinds

Tell me what the preacher preach about (preacher)
Tell what the teacher teach about (teacher)
I’ma go find me a better route
That bullshit and cap you can leave it out (cap)
They talking but ain’t tryna hear me out
Won’t open the door, tryna leave me out (open)
I’ma pull up and just empty out (brrr)
Come through, just make sure you clear me out (brrr)

Ooh
Clear me out, clear me out
Just clear me out
Clear me out

I do not care what the tag will say (I don’t)
I done brought out a big bag today (bag)
I just pulled up with the MAC today (brrr)
I don’t plan on going out sad today (brrr)
Pay what you owe, eighty a show (eighty)
Close the curtain and smoke in the Ghost (gas)
Hop in the iron and lift up the door (skrrt)
Young rich nigga, more money than I owe (hey)
Got your hoe at the condo, no clothes, yeah
Climb on a young nigga pole, yeah
You don’t wanna go there (nah)
Sticks and the dracos in here (brrr)
Got racks in the back of my pants (racks)
Got racks in the bachelor pad (racks)
These bitches they fuck for a bag (smash)
And you niggas gon’ go out sad

Bad Mona Lisa (bad)
Slide with my people (skerr skerr)
Pink slip for the ride (skerr skerr)
But what’s in the trunk, it’s illegal
Came from dimes (dimes), no cosigns (cosigns)
You can read between the lines
Like a pro skater, did my own grinds, yeah (grinds)

What’s the price?
What’s the price?
Prices going up, prices
Hold on
(price, going up yeah)
The big bag, I slide
(sker sker, sker sker, going up)
Hold on
(Woo woo woo, price, yeah!)

Tags Bad Mona Lisa, MAC

Lyrics

Migos – What The Price

[Intro: Quavo]
Tell me the price
Tell me the price
Tell me the price
Tell me the price
No surprise

[Hook: Takeoff & Quavo]
What’s the price?
Prices, prices, going up
Prices, prices (price)
The big bag, I slide
Prices, prices, going up
Hold on, yeah
Prices, prices (price)
What’s the price?
What’s the price?
Prices going up, prices
Hold on
(price, going up yeah)
The big bag, I slide
(sker sker, sker sker, going up)
Hold on
(Woo woo woo, price)

[Refrain: Quavo]
Bad Mona Lisa
Slide with my people
Pink slip for the ride, but what’s in the trunk, it’s illegal
Came from dimes, no cosigns
You can read between the lines
Like a pro skater did my own grinds

[Verse 1: Takeoff & Quavo]
Tell me what the preacher preach about (preacher)
Tell what the teacher teach about (teacher)
I’ma go find me a better route
That bullshit and cap you can leave it out (cap)
They talking but ain’t tryna hear me out
Won’t open the door, tryna leave me out (open)
I’ma pull up and just empty out (brrr)
Come through, just make sure you clear me out (brrr)

[Bridge: Quavo]
Ooh
Clear me out, clear me out
Just clear me out
Clear me out

[Hook: Takeoff, Quavo, & Offset]
What’s the price?
Prices, prices, going up
Prices, prices (price)
The big bag, I slide
Prices, prices, going up
Hold on, yeah
Prices, prices (price)
What’s the price?
What’s the price?
Prices going up, prices
Hold on
(price, going up yeah)
The big bag, I slide
(sker sker, sker sker, going up)
Hold on (shit goin’ up, you know what I mean)
(Woo woo, price)
Offset!

[Verse 2: Offset]
I do not care what the tag will say (I don’t)
I done brought out a big bag today (bag)
I just pulled up with the MAC today (brrr)
I don’t plan on going out sad today (brrr)
Pay what you owe, eighty a show (eighty)
Close the curtain and smoke in the Ghost (gas)
Hop in the iron and lift up the door (skrrt)
Young rich nigga, more money than I owe (hey)
Got your hoe at the condo, no clothes, yeah
Climb on a young nigga pole, yeah
You don’t wanna go there (nah)
Sticks and the dracos in here (brrr)
Got racks in the back of my pants (racks)
Got racks in the bachelor pad (racks)
These bitches they fuck for a bag (smash)
And you niggas gon’ go out sad

[Refrain: Quavo & Takeoff]
Bad Mona Lisa (bad)
Slide with my people (skerr skerr)
Pink slip for the ride (skerr skerr)
But what’s in the trunk, it’s illegal
Came from dimes (dimes), no cosigns (cosigns)
You can read between the lines
Like a pro skater, did my own grinds, yeah (grinds)

[Hook: Takeoff & Quavo]
What’s the price?
What’s the price?
Prices going up, prices
Hold on
(price, going up yeah)
The big bag, I slide
(sker sker, sker sker, going up)
Hold on
(Woo woo woo, price, yeah!)

Tags Bad Mona Lisa, MAC

Lyrics

Migos – What The Price lyrics

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date January 20, 2017
No Comments on Migos – What The Price lyrics

Tell me the price
Tell me the price
Tell me the price
Tell me the price
No surprise

Bad Mona Lisa
Slide with my people
Pink slip for the ride, but what’s in the trunk, it’s illegal
Came from dimes, no cosigns
You can read between the lines
Like a pro skater did my own grinds

Ooh
Clear me out, clear me out
Just clear me out
Clear me out

I do not care what the tag will say (I don’t)
I done brought out a big bag today (bag)
I just pulled up with the MAC today (brrr)
I don’t plan on going out sad today (brrr)
Pay what you owe, eighty a show (eighty)
Close the curtain and smoke in the Ghost (gas)
Hop in the iron and lift up the door (skrrt)
Young rich nigga, more money than I owe (hey)
Got your hoe at the condo, no clothes, yeah
Climb on a young nigga pole, yeah
You don’t wanna go there (nah)
Sticks and the dracos in here (brrr)
Got racks in the back of my pants (racks)
Got racks in the bachelor pad (racks)
These bitches they fuck for a bag (smash)
And you niggas gon’ go out sad

What’s the price?
What’s the price?
Prices going up, prices
Hold on
(price, going up yeah)
The big bag, I slide
(sker sker, sker sker, going up)
Hold on
(Woo woo woo, price, yeah!)

Tags Bad Mona Lisa, MAC

Lyrics

AJ Tracey – Pasta

[Hook]
Girls going wild in the water (wild)
Girls going wild in the water (splash)
Made a couple halves from a quarter (chef it)
Tryna turn a kid into a baller (swish)
Cooking up a jawn like pasta (cook it)
Cooking up a jawn like pasta (cook it)
All these broke niggas need a BAFTA (BAFTA)
You ain’t in the field, you’re an actor (nah)
Girls going wild in the water (wild)
Girls going wild in the water (splash)
Made a couple halves from a quarter (swish)
Tryna turn a kid into a baller (balling)
Cooking up a jawn like pasta (chef it)
Cooking up a jawn like pasta (chef it)
All these broke niggas need a BAFTA (BAFTA)
You ain’t in the field, you’re an actor (nah)

[Verse 1]
In and out of flats for the floos (guala)
You ain’t with the dogs, you’re a puss (meow)
Tell ’em "domme jongens in je stad" (ayy)
My Dutch bruddas bun ’em like kush, ayy
Who can kick the riddim like man? (who?)
Rich, living lavish, that’s the plan (by 25)
Jakes see me winning, they’re vexed (they’re vexed)
They just want a brudda in the can, nope
You ain’t cool if you ain’t in a gang (gang)
Hours and them hours like Stan (up there)
Always got my hood up like Kenny (got my hood)
No killing me, though, I’m the man (you can try)
Fader said I’m doing up shows (that’s real, you know)
Complex said I’m gonna blow (Complex)
The papers said that you should come and watch man (Guardian)
My mama said to leave my bro alone (haha)
Still up in the manor, that’s Grove (West 10)
Cruising through the music, I drove (skrrr)
White up in the tees like Hov (skrrr skrrr)
All my niggas whip it on the stove (whip)
No one ever helped in my zone (no one)
Bro, I had to do it on my own (on my ones)
Old girls didn’t wanna fuck me, now
I don’t even fuck them and they still moan (they’re moaning)
Hit a bitch once, then I skate (I’m gone)
Never let a Jezebel stay (never)
Drunk, seeing life through my Ray-Bans
I don’t even sleep till the day (I’m out here)
Tell a model bitch come play (come)
Give a couple beats like Dre (boo-boof)
Wetting up the pussy like clay, ayy
Now she’s tryna call a nigga bae

[Verse 2]
Every time I step up in the place (hey)
Girls all tryna get up in my face (wah?)
"Oh my god, it’s AJ Trace (oh my god)
Baby boy, I wanna be your mate" (hey)
No, bitch, man are on the chase (on the chase)
Chase for the guala and the papes (bread)
Bro fresh home from a case (yeah)
Let him hold a badders called Stace (hit that)
I just wanna make bare dough (leave me alone)
Beg you give a young nigga space (OK), ayy
Cooking up a jawn, get a plate (plate)
Eating, I ain’t even saying grace (my bad)
Henney going straight to my face (to my face)
Spilling liquor when I’m onstage (splash, splash)
Probably spilt the liquor on Paige (probably), ayy
Probably spilt the liquor on Paige (probably)
Alex to my pals, I’m Age (I’m Age)
Feds have got my bruddas in the cage (free ’em)
Couple opps out here all brave (OK), yeah?
I’mma slide with the MAC on rage
Gat long like a twelve gauge (nah)
Catch a corn or you’re gonna catch a shave (dip, dip)
Get a nigga down for the brodies (bros)
Get a nigga down in the grave (ahh)
Nike Air Max on my coat (on my coat)
Masked up when I do the roads (skrrr skrrr)
Girls can’t stay up in my hotel (nope)
Give a couple rounds, then I’m gonna ghost (I’m gone)
For the game, I’m tryna get the codes (them codes)
You’re broke but you wanna talk loads (you chatty)
When I see these guys, they’re running, running
Jumping over fences like a toad

Tags Grove West, MAC, Nike Air Max

Lyrics

Lil Durk – Too Late Lyrics

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date November 28, 2016
No Comments on Lil Durk – Too Late Lyrics

[Intro: Lil Durk]
Gang!
Yeah
2 times, 2 times!

[Hook: Lil Durk]
Purple water, pour up that berry that’s blue ring
Diamond water Tity Boi 2 times, that’s like 4 chains
Boss shit, I fucked yo’ baby mama in Mulsanne
Fashion (?) fashion week, you should peep my shoe game
Hoes wanna fuck ’cause the fame, Ay! Ay!
I think I wear more Yeezys than North West and Kim K
Private jet, fuck a key I tell the clip boys that I’m late
.40 on me, if you reading this message you too late

[Verse 1: Lil Durk]
The streets left me hangin’ with niggas I can eat with
Ridin’ through with Chicago with some boys on some street shit
Fuck a lot niggas’ hoes ’cause I’m on some me shit
Do a hit, don’t go by for yo’ mans, he know he hit
(?), you a fool you thinkin’ I drink hit
Pull up on yo’ bitch i8 drop I might hit the swift
Dab on ’em, AP in the trap I might jab on ’em
AP, I know them well I spend a couple thou on them
3 pills, they don’t mean shit don’t put no time in it
I ain’t talkin’ college with these dudes, I put like 5 in it
5 for glasses, pussy niggas I see 5 men
Slide with me, crippin’ with homie free the guys nigga
2 times for (?) that’s they trippin’
2 times from this henny I can feel it
We come for niggas yeah we know the business
Rob me pussy niggas was the endin’, like
I stunt, gotta open trunk to the edges
I bust, get up close to me and see that .50
Like I must, get a 100 M’s before I’m 50
Like pie crust, sip so much lean that I broke my kidneys

[Verse 2: Lil Durk]
MAC is on me, niggas so doo-doo MAC go in the (?), ay!
Two seater, me and my main fuck I eat her, ay!
Cool nigga, a pair of yeezys some Adidas, ay!
15 thousand, go up to 20 for a feature, ay!
2 pints, I was underseas gettin’ it too high
Too fly, I can get a mansion up in Dubai
Drive by, only one I land up in the Chi
Feds on me, and these niggas prayin’ I get 10 lives
Opps cast, and I know for sure they ain’t got 10 lives
Catch ’em down (?) tell a pussy nigga bye bye
Street nigga, way before Pac I was thug life
Got up, it fell down twice I was drugged twice
K snitch, bitch I’m gang gang hoe I can’t switch
Grey hits, I ain’t talkin’ music bitch I’m Ape shit
Fake shit, only come around ’cause we stay lit
Take shit, call a (?) we gon’ tape shit
Man down, bitch my city lit, we don’t play ’round
Beefin’ with my boys, tell them pussy niggas stand down
Choppas mad rugers good night heard that gun sound
Gonna shoot a nigga and the shit watch the gun sound

Tags AP, MAC, North West, Tity Boi

Lyrics

Lil Durk – Shooter2x Lyrics

Post author By Azlyrics
Post date November 24, 2016
No Comments on Lil Durk – Shooter2x Lyrics

[Intro: Lil Durk & 21 Savage]
I’mma say it 2 times with this money, money, on me, on me Gang!
We ain’t playin’ with this niggas man
Ay we different nigga
Boss shit!

[Hook: Lil Durk]
I just say it 2 times with this money, money and it’s on me, on me
Why you tweakin’ ain’t my homie, homie (Gang!)
Get this cash, cash, I just want it fast, fast
I’mma spaz, spaz, get on yo’ ass, ass (Gang! Gang!)
No need for vest, vest
Aim, aim, hit, hit, a chance, chance yes, yes (Dope)
Shooters, shooters with me, with me
Why you playin’ 50s, 50s, 50s, 50s, 50s, 50s (Gang!)

[Verse 1: 21 Savage]
Get the shots nigga, woah (21)
That stick gon’ sweep a nigga up, you better not hit the floor
SWAT team, Miles Burke, comin’ through the door (21)
Tommy gun woah
Trench coat woah
Lil’ bitch I know you heard how Young Savage scrap the bowl (skrt)
Motorola beepin’ (21)
VVSs fleekin’ (fleek)
Lil Durk he got the 30 on him, he might get to tweakin’ (21)
I just pulled up on yo’ main bitch and you know she freaky (ya dig)
She know I ain’t no sleeper (I dig)
Time to call a uber (21)
Young Savage man I bought a draco for my shooter (21, 21)
MAC 11 smoke yo’ baby daddy like some hookah (ya dig)
We got Glocks, Ks, TECs, nigga and bazookas (straight up)
Clip long like a ruler (straight up!)

[Verse 2: Lil Durk]
Me I just came out of poverty
I just spend 50 on property
I’m from the streets to the gun violence
Glocks annihilate you probably
I pour up a four for my dead guys
My hood is more than a block to me
I keep a jock on me, a couple killas ain’t no opps with me
Bitches want sex I want all mouth
We be them niggas they talkin’ ’bout
I’m saucin’ I’m walkin’, I’m Wayne now
Don’t treat I’m coolin’ with gang now
Overdose I’m like Wayne now
Before we was strapped like Girbaud jeans
Now we spend 50 on chains now
And we put 50 on things now
Booty died from dialysis
Opp niggas was the happiest
The city know we be wacking shit
Real killa, ain’t know accident
Crackin’ calls with the MACs and shit
Got the pounds and I’m matchin’ shit
Guns and dope in the mattress shit
Fuck nigga with the actin’ shit
Gang!

Tags MAC, Miles Burke, SWAT, Young Savage