[Tory Lanez:] Hop in that bitch and I go I cannot stress this bitch no more Fifty racks came outside from the mall Still come kick down your door I don't got no time for no fuck shit All in the packet, little baby gon' bust it All of my hunnids, they printed out blue And they knew and I knew it as soon as I touch it Bad joint, hop out the whip Let a nigga up it, I'ma up out the stick Say you finna catch me in traffic But little nigga in the backseat, shoot an opp out the whip I ain't finna fuck shit, nah, nah, hop in that Scat and that's that I made her put a whole ten in her bag Used to talk real crazy to a nigga but I made her put it back in her track 703, put the dice back down to the ground But you know a nigga bettin' on me Broke boy, he ain't got nothin' on me I hop out the whip, I'm stuntin' on three Niggas on dick and they hoverin' I'm poppin' so hard, that bitch let my brother hit Tropical water on me like I'm Fiji I used to set that shit up on a PG I know the scammers, the trappers, the killers Tryna cop baby Pampers and some pillows I'm with the Ace, smokin' gorilla You see my jacket? This shit chinchilla I just got back on road, now I'm iced up Like I just got fifty outta DR Sendin' you fuck boys to the ER They say nobody poppin', bitch, well we are Bitch, I might land in the strip in Miami My bitch is gon' fuck me and never gon' dump me Right out the dealer, I'm sendin' these pictures Girl, and I know that they never gon' touch me Bitch is go-happy, go-lucky All of my niggas, they don't care, stand with no ducky All of my rap friends, don't y'all come around shinin' that ice, my man might buck it Now that I'm all independent, I'm out of my label I promise I play about nothin' Ain't got no label restrictions or politics niggas They talk and they play? I'ma bust it, ayy Like how I jugg and I stick it though I got that green on my body like Piccolo She wanna fuck with a gigolo I'm hittin' these ho, 'bout to deuce like Bigalow, ayy Granted, I came out the dirt Doin' Aventadors, slam it, I came out, I skrrt Nigga, don't play on my turf Play with this choppa, I bet this shit rain on your Earth You want a wifey? You said that you'll give her your worth I hit that shit, it was dirt Then I slid off in a flirt Felt like Convertible Burt, ayy, ayy
[Kevin Gates:] Air Force 1s, NFL trainin' In the game with an NFL trainer Movin' pale, tracker on a trailblazer Caught a sale, what a major bill changer I'm in the lead, in a league of my own Supplyin' the peace, get a piece of me gone I'm in the streets and they ringin' my phone Surprisin' to me, I can't leave it alone I'm in a sports car Roll down the window and then I advance in a sports bra Don't tell me you love her Permanent stain in the streets, I got love thoughts I get a hand full of mushrooms, I take some to recharge Iced out, leave the clip in the stainless Lifestyle of the rich and the famous Close quarters in the whip with a gangster Pipe down up in here 'fore I spank you Pull up, corner round the bend I walk down, never slid, yeah I got power, no pretend, yeah Only cowards like to spend, yeah Barbershop we for real, yeah Grip the clippers, split a wig, yeah Caught a clip, you're in a wheelchair We gon' to war in this time Put it on party time Turnin' your party down And I'ma walk 'em round Know I'm a God nowTeksty umieszczone na naszej stronie są własnością wytwórni, wykonawców, osób mających do nich prawa.
