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Ab-Soul - Don Julio 70 Lyrics



Ab-Soul - Don Julio 70 Lyrics
Official




[ Featuring Fre$H ]

Ours
It's ours (it's ours?)
Yeah, keep on, yeah, it's ours
So just leave, just leave that
Just leave that breathing and then, you know I'm sayin'?
Yeah, yeah, look, look how it's start-
Look how I kick it off though
Thank you Fre$h Lord
This my first time sipping

Don Julio 70
Still pour without measuring
My Soul Fre$H, that's heavenly, uh
Don Julio 70
Streets watching in 7D
Each Glock come with seventeen, uh

Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang
I'm like three Chief Keefs
F*ck up out my face, you ain't gang gang (uh)
Emancipation proclamation, slaves to the paper, mane
It's ironic the chain hang
Big rocks clashing like Jay and Dame

'Bout to re' on the yay
R.I.P Act' just tequila today
Needless to say, I'm really a scientist
That's related to Drankenstein, it's alive
Ha, ha, ha, trap still jumping, come by my spot
All my life I've been on my grizzly
Got 12 on me but I'm not Ja
Nig-nigga, get in around on that side

Don Julio 70
This flow's grown in the Medellín
La to Chi Town, Pat Beverley, uh
Don Julio 70
I'm who your ho messaging
She get the baby shower, no registry, uh
Bang, bang, bang Pops Witherspoon
Sold crack out my moms' living room
Up and down the track like an interlude
Still in the hood like an inner tube
Sneak her in this bitch, women tend to shoot
(Givenchy, Jimmy Choo)

Yeah, lil' nigga, I said it
Cash on deck but niggas got credit
All my opps deaded, shorty prosthetic
Took my third leg all in her head
Off of them meds, no insurance
Now she gotta wait to see me
Get you some patience, sweetie
Like Diamonté, andale
No te preocupes, we geekin'
You won't need no chaser when drinkin' this
Don Julio 70
Hoes call me bae, no Chesapeake
Got blanco, got ebonies, uh
Don Julio 17
Nigga, don't you mean 70?
God damn, Soul, that's on me

I don't need nothing else to drink
The way I feel right now, oh, man
I'm 'bout to text my ex something that I should never send
Nigga, you better leave
Oh, shit, I'm on my way out
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

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We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.




Ours
It's ours (it's ours?)
Yeah, keep on, yeah, it's ours
So just leave, just leave that
Just leave that breathing and then, you know I'm sayin'?
Yeah, yeah, look, look how it's start-
Look how I kick it off though
Thank you Fre$h Lord
This my first time sipping

Don Julio 70
Still pour without measuring
My Soul Fre$H, that's heavenly, uh
Don Julio 70
Streets watching in 7D
Each Glock come with seventeen, uh

Bang, bang, bang, bang, bang
I'm like three Chief Keefs
F*ck up out my face, you ain't gang gang (uh)
Emancipation proclamation, slaves to the paper, mane
It's ironic the chain hang
Big rocks clashing like Jay and Dame

'Bout to re' on the yay
R.I.P Act' just tequila today
Needless to say, I'm really a scientist
That's related to Drankenstein, it's alive
Ha, ha, ha, trap still jumping, come by my spot
All my life I've been on my grizzly
Got 12 on me but I'm not Ja
Nig-nigga, get in around on that side

Don Julio 70
This flow's grown in the Medellín
La to Chi Town, Pat Beverley, uh
Don Julio 70
I'm who your ho messaging
She get the baby shower, no registry, uh
Bang, bang, bang Pops Witherspoon
Sold crack out my moms' living room
Up and down the track like an interlude
Still in the hood like an inner tube
Sneak her in this bitch, women tend to shoot
(Givenchy, Jimmy Choo)

Yeah, lil' nigga, I said it
Cash on deck but niggas got credit
All my opps deaded, shorty prosthetic
Took my third leg all in her head
Off of them meds, no insurance
Now she gotta wait to see me
Get you some patience, sweetie
Like Diamonté, andale
No te preocupes, we geekin'
You won't need no chaser when drinkin' this
Don Julio 70
Hoes call me bae, no Chesapeake
Got blanco, got ebonies, uh
Don Julio 17
Nigga, don't you mean 70?
God damn, Soul, that's on me

I don't need nothing else to drink
The way I feel right now, oh, man
I'm 'bout to text my ex something that I should never send
Nigga, you better leave
Oh, shit, I'm on my way out
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Armon Stringer, Christopher Ruelas, Herbert Anthony Stevens IV, Supreme Williams
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.

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