Collegrove
Checkerboard luggage
Ramen in the cupboard
I left Art Basel with a sculpture
You listening to the lyrical nunchuck
Chuckling dumbf*cks
Vocals warmed up, beyond Ford tough
I kept my lawn cut
This felon conduct
I got my arm out the window of an armed truck
It's Teamster Union when you hear the trucks roll up
On Cleveland Avenue made plays at the Kroger
Came up on cold cuts
Heart got a hole in it
Bank got a roll in it
The Cessna Citation came with a pole in it
The Cullinan so big it need a stove in it
Now that's deep, I just dove in it
The closet came with garage doors
The Goyard is on all fours
I do this shit for encores
I did this shit in Tom Ford
They said I'm wrong for it
I'm so fly I looked up and said get on boy
It's the man, it's the myth, in the midst of the minks
With the M's on my mind in Maui taking pics
Motivated by more that mean
I want more of this, I want more jewelry
More cars, I want more cribs
What you expect from a kid
That grew up with his stomach touching his rib
Echos coming from out the fridge
Now papa was a rolling stone, I thought you knew that
Don't smoke no cig' but I'll shoot that, true facts
Nah I mean?
My lighter St. Laurent
Yeah
That's St. Laurent fire
You gotta hold your hand mid-air when you do a verse like that
Uh, hoppin' out a slide out
Runnin' through a walkthrough
Coupe on big wheels like a pony wearin' horse shoes
Tall money, short fuse
Long money, long, ooh
Champagne Papi part 2
She my corkscrew
Tattoos over war wounds
Wrist look like its on zoom
Neck look like anime or cartoons, art to 'em
I got the spikes on the Gucci look like Bart to 'em
Gimme the Nikes, lemme add some Comme Des Garcons to 'em
Stunt man
Verses in my lunch bag
Rappers on my launch pad
Chopper make 'em do the Kriss Kross or make 'em jump dance
Lump sums, lump bands
What's a young man without a check?
Just a Jumpman
F*ck that, Jordan meme
I'ma sip some lean, get a ting and go quarantine
I'ma get some bling, let it bling like some Oil Sheen
I'ma put some f*ckin' princess cuts on the queen
And I keep all of the chin check stubs I redeem
This our team, my regimen, I'ma higher being
Purple smoke fire green
Sweet 'n' sour cream
Peakin' higher now we towering
Peak position
Give my people power, now we power fiends
It's addiction
Feelin' like a boxer steppin' out the ring
You swing, you miss
Critically thinkin' 'bout the critics up in critical condition
I'm in pitiful condition
Scratch that, but who was itchin'?
Teamsters, the union did it
Tune 'n Tity, Young Money, Tru Religion
That's some Teamster shit
That's a Saint Laurent lighter, woo
I got "stoner-virus," baby
Her right there? She got "Patron-a-virus," hmm-mm
And her over there? She wouldn't let me f*ck so now she got "loner-virus", alright
Ayy, stop leasin' niggas
We gotta get that "homeowner-virus" like me
Yo
They was laughin'
But we was smart drug trafficking
We was sharks (uh-huh)
I had to chase the paper down 'til we trapped the money in vaults
Kinda crazy
My last bid was the shortest and she ain't wait for me
Spent half my 20s in prison and aged gracefully
For paper, you know we grind, place a wager
And you'll be fine (uh-huh)
I put my fork down, now every major want me to sign
Left the hood for Hollywood
It wasn't worth being famous (it wasn't worth it)
Bro, every chick got a beamer and a personal trainer
I'm into business moves, she into Paris fashion (uh-huh)
It cost me at least twenty grand a year on her hair and lashes
Love I done inherited, music was both of my parents' passion
My name come up when you talkin' dope or comparin' classics (uh-huh, uh-huh)
Stare at me good, 'cause this how pressure look
They want my spot but tryna skip every step I took
I wish 'em the best of luck
I asked a question, and he gave me an answer
That still left a nigga confused like Brady in Tampa
Back home, I'm one of the narcos, semi autos
Dodge fans like New York City potholes
Yeah, the OGs think that it's funny
Money made me more hungry
'Cause majority wait 'til they chubby
And then get comfy, nah
You get that first taste then you learn to appreciate
All the risks you gotta take
To turn a Ford to a Wraith (uh-huh)
I'm checkin' in on my hood
Like I hope all is well
I'm still close to my scale
We like Oprah and Gayle
You get a Rollie
You get a Rollie
You get a Rollie
You get a Rollie
Everybody gets a Rollie
You get a Rollie
You get a Rollie
You get a Rollie too
Everybody gets a Rollie
2 Chainz - Oprah and Gayle Lyrics
2 Chainz - Oprah and Gayle Lyrics
Official
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
Collegrove
Checkerboard luggage
Ramen in the cupboard
I left Art Basel with a sculpture
You listening to the lyrical nunchuck
Chuckling dumbf*cks
Vocals warmed up, beyond Ford tough
I kept my lawn cut
This felon conduct
I got my arm out the window of an armed truck
It's Teamster Union when you hear the trucks roll up
On Cleveland Avenue made plays at the Kroger
Came up on cold cuts
Heart got a hole in it
Bank got a roll in it
The Cessna Citation came with a pole in it
The Cullinan so big it need a stove in it
Now that's deep, I just dove in it
The closet came with garage doors
The Goyard is on all fours
I do this shit for encores
I did this shit in Tom Ford
They said I'm wrong for it
I'm so fly I looked up and said get on boy
It's the man, it's the myth, in the midst of the minks
With the M's on my mind in Maui taking pics
Motivated by more that mean
I want more of this, I want more jewelry
More cars, I want more cribs
What you expect from a kid
That grew up with his stomach touching his rib
Echos coming from out the fridge
Now papa was a rolling stone, I thought you knew that
Don't smoke no cig' but I'll shoot that, true facts
Nah I mean?
My lighter St. Laurent
Yeah
That's St. Laurent fire
You gotta hold your hand mid-air when you do a verse like that
Uh, hoppin' out a slide out
Runnin' through a walkthrough
Coupe on big wheels like a pony wearin' horse shoes
Tall money, short fuse
Long money, long, ooh
Champagne Papi part 2
She my corkscrew
Tattoos over war wounds
Wrist look like its on zoom
Neck look like anime or cartoons, art to 'em
I got the spikes on the Gucci look like Bart to 'em
Gimme the Nikes, lemme add some Comme Des Garcons to 'em
Stunt man
Verses in my lunch bag
Rappers on my launch pad
Chopper make 'em do the Kriss Kross or make 'em jump dance
Lump sums, lump bands
What's a young man without a check?
Just a Jumpman
F*ck that, Jordan meme
I'ma sip some lean, get a ting and go quarantine
I'ma get some bling, let it bling like some Oil Sheen
I'ma put some f*ckin' princess cuts on the queen
And I keep all of the chin check stubs I redeem
This our team, my regimen, I'ma higher being
Purple smoke fire green
Sweet 'n' sour cream
Peakin' higher now we towering
Peak position
Give my people power, now we power fiends
It's addiction
Feelin' like a boxer steppin' out the ring
You swing, you miss
Critically thinkin' 'bout the critics up in critical condition
I'm in pitiful condition
Scratch that, but who was itchin'?
Teamsters, the union did it
Tune 'n Tity, Young Money, Tru Religion
That's some Teamster shit
That's a Saint Laurent lighter, woo
I got "stoner-virus," baby
Her right there? She got "Patron-a-virus," hmm-mm
And her over there? She wouldn't let me f*ck so now she got "loner-virus", alright
Ayy, stop leasin' niggas
We gotta get that "homeowner-virus" like me
Yo
They was laughin'
But we was smart drug trafficking
We was sharks (uh-huh)
I had to chase the paper down 'til we trapped the money in vaults
Kinda crazy
My last bid was the shortest and she ain't wait for me
Spent half my 20s in prison and aged gracefully
For paper, you know we grind, place a wager
And you'll be fine (uh-huh)
I put my fork down, now every major want me to sign
Left the hood for Hollywood
It wasn't worth being famous (it wasn't worth it)
Bro, every chick got a beamer and a personal trainer
I'm into business moves, she into Paris fashion (uh-huh)
It cost me at least twenty grand a year on her hair and lashes
Love I done inherited, music was both of my parents' passion
My name come up when you talkin' dope or comparin' classics (uh-huh, uh-huh)
Stare at me good, 'cause this how pressure look
They want my spot but tryna skip every step I took
I wish 'em the best of luck
I asked a question, and he gave me an answer
That still left a nigga confused like Brady in Tampa
Back home, I'm one of the narcos, semi autos
Dodge fans like New York City potholes
Yeah, the OGs think that it's funny
Money made me more hungry
'Cause majority wait 'til they chubby
And then get comfy, nah
You get that first taste then you learn to appreciate
All the risks you gotta take
To turn a Ford to a Wraith (uh-huh)
I'm checkin' in on my hood
Like I hope all is well
I'm still close to my scale
We like Oprah and Gayle
You get a Rollie
You get a Rollie
You get a Rollie
You get a Rollie
Everybody gets a Rollie
You get a Rollie
You get a Rollie
You get a Rollie too
Everybody gets a Rollie
Checkerboard luggage
Ramen in the cupboard
I left Art Basel with a sculpture
You listening to the lyrical nunchuck
Chuckling dumbf*cks
Vocals warmed up, beyond Ford tough
I kept my lawn cut
This felon conduct
I got my arm out the window of an armed truck
It's Teamster Union when you hear the trucks roll up
On Cleveland Avenue made plays at the Kroger
Came up on cold cuts
Heart got a hole in it
Bank got a roll in it
The Cessna Citation came with a pole in it
The Cullinan so big it need a stove in it
Now that's deep, I just dove in it
The closet came with garage doors
The Goyard is on all fours
I do this shit for encores
I did this shit in Tom Ford
They said I'm wrong for it
I'm so fly I looked up and said get on boy
It's the man, it's the myth, in the midst of the minks
With the M's on my mind in Maui taking pics
Motivated by more that mean
I want more of this, I want more jewelry
More cars, I want more cribs
What you expect from a kid
That grew up with his stomach touching his rib
Echos coming from out the fridge
Now papa was a rolling stone, I thought you knew that
Don't smoke no cig' but I'll shoot that, true facts
Nah I mean?
My lighter St. Laurent
Yeah
That's St. Laurent fire
You gotta hold your hand mid-air when you do a verse like that
Uh, hoppin' out a slide out
Runnin' through a walkthrough
Coupe on big wheels like a pony wearin' horse shoes
Tall money, short fuse
Long money, long, ooh
Champagne Papi part 2
She my corkscrew
Tattoos over war wounds
Wrist look like its on zoom
Neck look like anime or cartoons, art to 'em
I got the spikes on the Gucci look like Bart to 'em
Gimme the Nikes, lemme add some Comme Des Garcons to 'em
Stunt man
Verses in my lunch bag
Rappers on my launch pad
Chopper make 'em do the Kriss Kross or make 'em jump dance
Lump sums, lump bands
What's a young man without a check?
Just a Jumpman
F*ck that, Jordan meme
I'ma sip some lean, get a ting and go quarantine
I'ma get some bling, let it bling like some Oil Sheen
I'ma put some f*ckin' princess cuts on the queen
And I keep all of the chin check stubs I redeem
This our team, my regimen, I'ma higher being
Purple smoke fire green
Sweet 'n' sour cream
Peakin' higher now we towering
Peak position
Give my people power, now we power fiends
It's addiction
Feelin' like a boxer steppin' out the ring
You swing, you miss
Critically thinkin' 'bout the critics up in critical condition
I'm in pitiful condition
Scratch that, but who was itchin'?
Teamsters, the union did it
Tune 'n Tity, Young Money, Tru Religion
That's some Teamster shit
That's a Saint Laurent lighter, woo
I got "stoner-virus," baby
Her right there? She got "Patron-a-virus," hmm-mm
And her over there? She wouldn't let me f*ck so now she got "loner-virus", alright
Ayy, stop leasin' niggas
We gotta get that "homeowner-virus" like me
Yo
They was laughin'
But we was smart drug trafficking
We was sharks (uh-huh)
I had to chase the paper down 'til we trapped the money in vaults
Kinda crazy
My last bid was the shortest and she ain't wait for me
Spent half my 20s in prison and aged gracefully
For paper, you know we grind, place a wager
And you'll be fine (uh-huh)
I put my fork down, now every major want me to sign
Left the hood for Hollywood
It wasn't worth being famous (it wasn't worth it)
Bro, every chick got a beamer and a personal trainer
I'm into business moves, she into Paris fashion (uh-huh)
It cost me at least twenty grand a year on her hair and lashes
Love I done inherited, music was both of my parents' passion
My name come up when you talkin' dope or comparin' classics (uh-huh, uh-huh)
Stare at me good, 'cause this how pressure look
They want my spot but tryna skip every step I took
I wish 'em the best of luck
I asked a question, and he gave me an answer
That still left a nigga confused like Brady in Tampa
Back home, I'm one of the narcos, semi autos
Dodge fans like New York City potholes
Yeah, the OGs think that it's funny
Money made me more hungry
'Cause majority wait 'til they chubby
And then get comfy, nah
You get that first taste then you learn to appreciate
All the risks you gotta take
To turn a Ford to a Wraith (uh-huh)
I'm checkin' in on my hood
Like I hope all is well
I'm still close to my scale
We like Oprah and Gayle
You get a Rollie
You get a Rollie
You get a Rollie
You get a Rollie
Everybody gets a Rollie
You get a Rollie
You get a Rollie
You get a Rollie too
Everybody gets a Rollie
Writer: Tauheed Epps, Dwayne Carter, Jeremie Pennick
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group