[Intro: Quavo] 3 way 3 way 3 way Migo 3 way Quavo!
[Verse 1: Quavo] I'm attached to the stacks Still having big straps Phone tap running laps cross the map hot trap 50,000 on craps Plug got that baby powder These niggas out here sour 80k perform for an hour Should of played for the Dolphins Should of played for the Saints Nigga saying it's a drought Takeoff still having pints Still playing with that oil Still playing with that dope Might catch me on the nawf Still chopping it up with Bo I got bitches out in Florida Having bitches out in Georgia New bitch hit my phone said she wanna give me dome Cutting dope by Georgia dome High school no diploma Remember days on the nawf Now I'm quarterback a coach Better watch your approach when you pull up on the 'chos Yeah my niggas having sticks Mama didn't raise a bitch Now your bitch always call my phone for motherfucking snow Today I just met the plug put him in the figure four Old Quavo might just pull up and just kick a door nigga Free my nigga Westside got 5 to the dope nigga Free my nigga Kobe got 15 to the net Now I got some hired shooters with the coolants on the TECs I don't mean no disrespect but I came for the checks They free'd the savage Set Concerts in Quebec Put her on the grits Young nigga hitting them licks No Label 3 Independent signed for bricks
[Verse 2: Offset] (huh-huh) Jumped off the porch (huh-huh) Picked up the fork (huh-huh) Stay with the torch (huh) We did this shit from the nawf (huh) Niggas be thinkin I'm actin' tough I'm with the shit I don't give a fuck Slaughter your daughter get passed to my partner we fuck her then call up an Uber truck Fuck it up (fuck it up) Fuck it up (fuck it up) Getting that pot do an uppercut Get in that pussy like cootie cutters Get you some money then live it up Pull out that stick he start hiccing up You see the ski start bitching up Stand on the stage and pipe it up Fucking your hoe while you wife her up I got the birds like Mighty Duck Swerve on the curb in the Bentley truck Fuck what you talking we pulling up Your face on the ground nigga pick it up No Label (huh-huh) No Label (huh-huh) No Label (nah) I'm getting my own paper I get your bitch and slay her I'm the president I'm not the mayor Diamonds got my body cold I got em' bout four layers I need a bitch that look like Draya Catching bricks off in the mail Nudie jeans Ice creams from Pharrell I'm a player
[Verse 3: Takeoff] Came in the game Knock at the door Nobody answered had to do a kick door My niggas they on the same shit Had to tell em' what that bando was for I know that we not from Atlanta nigga what you think them two fingers and thumb for And they been hating on me since I was a lil' boy tell me something I don't know It's been a long road I put in work but no cheat code Pen on paper like kinko Never look back and won't sell my soul Real niggas never fold Say you a hundred but you told It's hot outside it ain't cold Nigga seen the Draco and froze Nigga acting bold I'm a fuck around and wipe the pussy nigga nose Strip a nigga out his clothes Don't like it then pay what you owe Bigger back end at the shows Spanish for Telemundo I got the Act in the bag right now But I won't send you a four Dope dressed up in saran it look like the pope And get smoked from the gas bags it'll make you choke If you pour up, smoke or snort coke That what float your boat This No Label not uno not dos Come from the goats (Takeoff!)Teksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
