Back to Top

Bossman Dlow - Mr Beat The Road Album Lyrics



Bossman Dlow - Mr Beat The Road Lyrics
5.00 [1 vote]






Pressure

Nigga, nigga
Big Za
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Nigga

Apply that pressure, nigga, that's how you kill 'em (that's how you kill 'em, nigga)
Yeah, them same losses turned me to a winner (to a winner, nigga)
Yeah, real trapper, real corner bender (skrrt, skrrt)
Uh, Big Za, the big one, not the lil' one (not the lil' one)
Uh, she want to ride the wave, she like how I'm surfin' (how I'm surfin')
I'm in a foreign truck gettin' beat up by these Perkies (Perkies)
Nigga crossed me so many times, I called him Kyrie Irving (Irving)
How you laid up with a bitch and your pockets hurtin'? (Nigga)

I get money and get fly
Folks say I can't switch out (nigga)
Pull up, Beamer S5
Murder red inside (skrrt)
I make plays in a Uber (nigga), I'm a f*ckin' distributor (brrt)
I don't argue on computers, I be with drug dealers and shooters (brrt)
I look like a walkin' bank, look like BOA or Truist (beep, beep, beep)
I ain't doin' no back and forth, I ain't with the talkin', bitch, I'm chewin' (nigga)
You ain't got no motion, what the f*ck you niggas be doin'?
You ready to die about that bitch, nigga sad, nigga goofy, nigga (goofy-ass nigga)
Yeah (haha), you ready to die about that bitch
Nigga sad, nigga goofy, nigga (nigga sad as a motherf*cker, man)
Yeah, yeah (you know? Haha)
Nigga
Big Za

Apply that pressure, nigga, that's how you kill 'em (that's how you kill 'em, nigga)
Yeah, them same losses turned me to a winner (to a winner, nigga)
Yeah, real trapper, real corner bender (skrrt, skrrt)
Uh, Big Za, the big one, not the lil' one (not the lil' one)
Uh, she want to ride the wave, she like how I'm surfin' (how I'm urfin')
I'm in a foreign truck gettin' beat up by these Perkies (Perkies)
Nigga crossed me so many times, I called him Kyrie Irving (Irving)
How you laid up with a bitch and your pockets hurtin'?

Big Za
Yeah (skrrt, skrrt), yeah, yeah
Nigga
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Devante McCreary, Jackson Thomas, Nathaniel Ball
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




21

(Can't get this from nowhere else, it's only Genoa)
Hello? What you, what you tryna do?
You gotta give me 'bout fifteen minutes
Nigga, yeah, nigga, nigga
Get wit' (Big Za), get wit'(Big Za)
Nigga (bitch), huh

I'll take a seven, I'll make it twenty-one like I'm Tim Duncan (like I'm Tim Duncan)
Nigga, yo' bitch pickin' and choosin', we got this shit jumpin' (brrt)
Give me the ball, I dunk on a nigga ass like I'm six somethin' (like I'm six somethin')
Brought the tool in here like he tryna fix somethin' (brrt, blaow)
All this weight 'round the trap, spot look like a gym, baby (gym, baby)
Bro got a forty layin' on his shirt, like Shawn Kemp, baby (grrah)
I'm smokin' on somethin', got me higher than a blimp, baby
You can't play me like them niggas, I ain't one of them, baby (no)

Twenty-three, super cool, drop the top (skrrt), show my ass (skrrt, skrrt)
You ready to die about that bitch? Silly dude, nigga sad (facts)
Found out basketball wasn't it, I had to get it off the glass (bling-bling)
You better not play with nobody in this bitch, nigga, we gon' crash (bitch)
You ain't gettin' no money, might wanna shut up, nigga (shut up, nigga)
Yeah, switchin' lanes in that striker, watch me cut up, nigga (skrrt, skrrt, skrrt)
I got two Michael Vicks left, give me three a piece (brrt)
Uh, I gotta take a power nap, this 'Za beatin' me (this 'Za beatin' me)
Uh, you on that post shit, bitch, don't even call my phone (nigga)
And I can't give a bitch shit, please just leave me 'lone (please, ho)
We move that shit with quickness, we gon' get it gone (phew, phew, phew)
It's like me and broke bitches just don't get along (no)
She know I love that thick shit, that shit turn me on (come here, baby)
Ayy, bae, you look delicious, I'ma eat you off the bone (come here, baby)
If she ain't get her ass did, that shit homegrown
I ain't ever did no snitch shit, I don't even condone (no)

I'll take a seven, I'll make it twenty-one like I'm Tim Duncan (like I'm Tim Duncan)
Nigga, yo' bitch pickin' and choosin', we got this shit jumpin' (brrt)
Give me the ball, I dunk on nigga head like I'm six somethin' (like I'm six somethin')
Brought the tool in here like he tryna fix somethin' (brrt, blaow)
All this weight 'round the trap, spot look like a gym, baby (gym, baby)
Bro got a forty layin' on his shirt, like Shawn Kemp, baby (grrah)
I'm smokin' on somethin', got me higher than a blimp, baby
You can't play me like them niggas, I ain't one of them, baby (no)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Devante McCreary, Jason Morris
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Dove

Nigga, nigga (Big Za)
Nigga, nigga

It cost for me to step (yeah), thirteen hundred on some new Prada
Hop out fresh to death (to death), I look like a million dollars (yep)
You can keep the love, I need my drugs, baby (I need my drugs, baby)
Hop out AMG, I'm flyer than a dove, baby (than a dove, baby)
I just left Louis V, I'm cleaner than some Dove, baby (than some Dove, baby)
Dirty game, it's dirty world, get it out the mud, baby (get it out the mud, baby)
It cost for me to step (yeah), thirteen hundred on some new Prada
Hop out fresh to death (to death), I look like a million dollars (yep)
You can keep the love, I need my drugs, baby (I need my drugs, baby)
Hop out AMG, I'm flyer than a dove, baby (than a dove, baby)
I just left Louis V, I'm cleaner than some Dove, baby (than some Dove, baby)
Dirty game, it's dirty world, get it out the mud, baby (get it out the mud, baby)

I be makin' plays, Phil Jackson (Phil Jackson)
Uh, I done put them racks inside a mattress (inside a mattress)
We can f*ck the same ho, it ain't an issue (it ain't an issue)
Brody shoot with the left hand, Derek Fisher (bah)
Brody shoot with the left hand, Julius Randle (Julius Randle)
F*cked a bad bitch in Giuseppe sandals (in Giuseppe sandals)
Pussy nigga, I'm the boss, who your manager? (Pussy nigga)
I'm in a Trackhawk, he in a challenger (vroom)
It cost for me step, fifteen hundred on Lanvin, nigga (nigga)
You can catch me with my dog like I'm shaggy, nigga (pussy)
Real trap nigga, I know all the addicts, nigga (nigga)
Bustdown Carti' on my wrist, I'm finna drop a Patek, nigga (bling)
Trap phone ridiculous (nigga), caution signed the pendant (nigga)
Uh, rental car tinted (huh?), trap niggas winnin' (trap)
He can't leave the kitchen (huh?), phone like The Licking (brrt)
He a walkin', yeah (yeah), a walkin' piece of chicken

It cost for me to step (yeah), thirteen hundred on some new Prada
Hop out fresh to death (to death), I look like a million dollars (yep)
You can keep the love, I need my drugs, baby (I need my drugs, baby)
Hop out AMG, I'm flyer than a dove, baby (than a dove, baby)
I just left Louis V, I'm cleaner than some Dove, baby (than some Dove, baby)
Dirty game, it's dirty world, get it out the mud, baby (get it out the mud, baby)
It cost for me to step (yeah), thirteen hundred on some new Prada
Hop out fresh to death (to death), I look like a million dollars (yep)
You can keep the love, I need my drugs, baby (I need my drugs, baby)
Hop out AMG, I'm flyer than a dove, baby (than a dove, baby)
I just left Louis V, I'm cleaner than some Dove, baby (than some Dove, baby)
Dirty game, it's dirty world, get it out the mud, baby (get it out the mud, baby)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Devante McCreary
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Boss Talk

Yeah, yeah, yeah
Uh-uh, how the f*ck we gon' boss talk?
Pull up with the doors off
(BB had to do it to 'em) nigga

If you ain't bossed up, how the f*ck we gon' boss talk? (Nigga)
This that Rubicon Jeep, pull up with the doors off (skrrt)
This that foreign truck shit, Beamer X4 talk (nigga)
Make your bitch sneak out (phew) the crib when your doors off (come here, bae)
This that Big Za, shit blows your nose off
This that Paper Route shit and I don't even no Dolph
This that-, don't turn the stove off
Pull up, drop the window, big 'Za what I'm smokin', nigga (nigga)

Murder shit simple, f*ck that, get in motion, nigga (nigga)
On 95, doin' 105, just floatin', nigga (vroom)
Beatin' up that road, got my front pockets swollen, nigga (facts, facts)
Hmm, where the f*ck is my ash tray? (Nigga)
I could thumb through 6K on a bad day (facts)
Pack movin' trees, you'll swear he do landscape (nigga)
This that M Sport, 93 in my gas tank (skrrt)
Pay me what you owe me, stop playin' with that money, nigga (nigga)
It don't cost a f*ckin' dime to keep it a hundred, nigga (a hundred, nigga)
Speed limit say sixty-five, but I'm doin' a hundred, nigga (vroom)
Why is you talkin' out your ass? You ain't about shit, jit (nigga)
If you want some 'Za, come here, come take a slip, jit (come here, nigga)
Focus on my rear views, I'm movin' swift, jit (phew, phew, phew)
Pussy bitch, I'm lit like December 25th, jit
Double cup, I'm pourin' Hen' out the fifth, nigga (nigga)
I'll take a nigga bitch and spoil her ass like milk, nigga (come here, baby)

If you ain't bossed up, how the f*ck we gon' boss talk? (Nigga)
This that Rubicon Jeep, pull up with the doors off (skrrt)
This that foreign truck shit, Beamer X4 talk (nigga)
Make your bitch sneak out (phew) the crib when your doors off (come here, bae)
This that Big Za, shit blows your nose off
This that Paper Route shit and I don't even no Dolph
This that-, don't turn the stove off
Pull up, drop the window, big 'Za what I'm smokin', nigga (nigga)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Devante McCreary, Victor Lassila
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




Get In With Me

Big Za
Yeah
Gram (Donte, you snapped on this one)
Uh, uh

I was bad in f*ckin' school, now I'm tryna dodge a sentence
Just walked out the Lanvin store, pair of shoes, twelve-fifty (nigga)
You wanna boss up your life? All you gotta do is get in with me (come here, baby)
I don't even pay to get in the club, they know I'm a walkin' ticket
I'm presidential leavin' the club, we ain't stoppin' at no lights (nyoom)
You wanna be a boss, you gotta pay the price (facts)
Left wrist on frost, look like a bag of ice (bling)
I'm drivin' the Bentley Bentayga like I don't love my life (skrrt)

I'm in that thing shiftin' and I'm lane-switchin' (nyoom)
Bitch, it's Big Za, I'ma stand on straight business (Big Za)
Uh, dunkin' on niggas' ass like Blake Griffin
He keep talkin', bro gon' leave his face missing (brrt)
Bae, these Off-White, these ain't no Huarache (no Huarache, baby)
Bad bitch, fiftieth floor, eatin' Hibachi (come here, baby)
I got ten missed calls, all my bitches mad at me
Valet park, designer district, I'm goin' straight to Gallery
Juggs fiendin', yup (yup)
Phone ringin', yup (brrt)
Niggas hatin', yup (nigga)
Jewelry blingin', yup (bling)
Juggs fiendin', yup (brrt)
Phone ringin', yup (yup)
Niggas hatin', yup (nigga)
Jewelry blingin', yup (bling)

I was bad in f*ckin' school, now I'm tryna dodge a sentence
Just walked out the Lanvin store, pair of shoes, twelve-fifty (nigga)
You wanna boss up your life? All you gotta do is get in with me (come here, baby)
I don't even pay to get in the club, they know I'm a walkin' ticket
I'm presidential leavin' the club, we ain't stoppin' at no lights (nyoom)
You wanna be a boss, you gotta pay the price (facts)
Left wrist on frost, look like a bag of ice (bling)
I'm drivin' the Bentley Bentayga like I don't love my life (skrrt)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Devante McCreary, Donte Ononiewu
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Mr. Pot Scraper

Yeah-yeah
Yeah
(King Nathan with another one)
Big Za

Left pocket full of pink fifties, right pocket got blues in it (beep, beep, beep)
Plug sendin' them packs to me, I know what to do with it (brrt)
Thousand-dollar shoes, I'm walkin' on a damn ounce (nigga)
He ain't runnin' up a bag, he runnin' his damn mouth (pussy)
I'm Mr. Swang A Door (yeah), Mr. Beat The Road (yeah)
Two thousand on a coat (nigga), steppin' on they throat (nigga)
I'm Mr. Ride Foreign (Ride Foreign), I'm Mr. Ain't Goin' (no)
He Mr. Pump Faker, I'm Mr. Pot Scraper

The way I'm drivin' the, I just might wreck or somethin' (yoom)
Why would I chase a bitch? I can go chase a check or somethin' (nigga)
You ain't talkin' 'bout no money, nigga, burn up, nigga (burn up, nigga)
F*ckin' with the yeah got me turnt up, nigga (yeah)
Nigga too slippery, walk in the club and make a mess (yeah)
They thought a nigga was sweatin', all this water on my chest (bling)
Yeah, I want M's, nigga, I ain't settlin' for less (no)
I ain't DJ Khaled, baby, but you know we the best (we the best, baby)
Nigga, I ain't f*ckin' off, I done seen a hundred ball (nigga)
Flip phonee, trap doin' somersaults (trap)
Nigga, I ain't f*ckin' off, I done seen a hundred ball (nigga)
Flip phonee, trap doin' somersaults (yeah)
Trap doin' hurdles, nigga, your phone like a turtle, nigga
You is not no f*ckin' boss, you know you a worker, nigga
I'm a f*ckin' splurger, nigga, I'm a dope server, nigga
Real street nigga, foreign whip swerver, nigga (yoom)

Left pocket full of pink fifties, right pocket got blues in it (beep, beep, beep)
Plug sendin' them packs to me, I know what to do with it (brrt)
Thousand-dollar shoes, I'm walkin' on a damn ounce (nigga)
He ain't runnin' up a bag, he runnin' his damn mouth (pussy)
I'm Mr. Swang A Door (yeah), Mr. Beat The Road (yeah)
Two thousand on a coat (nigga), steppin' on they throat (nigga)
I'm Mr. Ride Foreign (Ride Foreign), I'm Mr. Ain't Goin' (no)
He Mr. Pump Faker, I'm Mr. Pot Scraper
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Devante McCreary, Nathan Silfain
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Lil Bastard

(Gentle Beatz)
Yeah
Nigga
Biggest in this shit, know what I'm sayin'?
Yeah
Big Za
Big Za (yeah)

Uh, trap nigga, I get active (yeah)
I'm swingin' in traffic (yeah)
Shit poppin', lil' bastard (yeah)
That nigga be snappin' (yeah)
I pop out, it's a movie, nigga
Left arm stupid, nigga (bling)
Right pocket dog shit
Left pocket Scooby, nigga
Trap nigga, I get active (yeah)
I'm swingin' in traffic (yeah)
Shit poppin', lil' bastard (yeah)
That nigga be snappin' (yeah)
I pop out, it's a movie, nigga
Left arm stupid, nigga (bling)
Right pocket dog shit
Left pocket Scooby, nigga (Scooby-Dooby-Doo)

I'ma show my ass every time, young nigga havin' shit
She walk like she know she fine, she talk like the baddest bitch (come here, bae)
Fat out of shape nigga, sack real healthy (real healthy)
Dog shit in your face, nigga (woo), I know you smell it
I gave my mama a thirty ball, I'm the motherf*ckin' GOAT (GOAT, nigga)
I-, until my arm broke
Bitch, I had to skip the line, get me in the door
It's crazy I got it out the mud, now look, it's on the floor
I'm talkin' 'bout right after we f*ck, ask her what she finna do
Everybody wanna be him, well, I'm that motherf*ckin' dude
I'm Mr. Rotation, come get two for two (nigga)
He say he wanna what? F*ck it, send him through

Trap nigga, I get active (yeah)
I'm swingin' in traffic (yeah)
Shit poppin', lil' bastard (yeah)
That nigga be snappin' (yeah)
I pop out, it's a movie, nigga
Left arm stupid, nigga (bling)
Right pocket dog shit
Left pocket Scooby, nigga
Trap nigga, I get active (yeah)
I'm swingin' in traffic (yeah)
Shit poppin', lil' bastard (yeah)
That nigga be snappin' (yeah)
I pop out, it's a movie, nigga
Left arm stupid, nigga (bling)
Right pocket dog shit
Left pocket Scooby, nigga (Scooby-Dooby-Doo)

I done kicked the f*ckin' door down (woo), nigga, don't bring your ho 'round
It ain't nothin' but some bad bitches and rich niggas every time we pop out
I'm in a Maybach truck with a big ol' slut, when I buss it, baby get out
Show me how bad you want that bag you want, we the richest in the South (woo, woo)
F*ck nigga, I be snappin' (woo), I don't just be rappin' (woo)
I know a lot of niggas said they rich, we the ones who really have it (woo)
I'm the one went spent fifty thousand dollars on black glasses (woo)
We the ones go take over niggas' trap, the trap bandit, yeah
Bitch gon' f*ck on the whole gang tryna get close to me
I been doin' that shit for a year straight and it wasn't illegal
Don't record that shit that we do 'round here, I don't want them to see it
Every time we pop out, it's a movie, Vin Diesel (woo)

Trap nigga, I get active (yeah)
I'm swingin' in traffic (yeah)
Shit poppin', lil' bastard (yeah)
That nigga be snappin' (yeah)
I pop out, it's a movie, nigga
Left arm stupid, nigga (bling)
Right pocket dog shit
Left pocket Scooby, nigga
Trap nigga, I get active (yeah)
I'm swingin' in traffic (yeah)
Shit poppin', lil' bastard (yeah)
That nigga be snappin' (yeah)
I pop out, it's a movie, nigga
Left arm stupid, nigga (bling)
Right pocket dog shit
Left pocket Scooby, nigga (Scooby-Dooby-Doo)

Nigga
Yeah
Dog shit in my pants
Nigga
Yeah
Big Za
Big Za
Nigga
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Daniel Schnabel, Devante McCreary, Matthew Forde, Robert Coleman Thomas
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Dopeman

Huh (thanks, Yakree)
Nigga, nigga, yeah
Hmm

I'm tryna get you in my car, what we doin', baby?
Huh, man, them nigga ain't eatin', baby, we chewin', baby
Huh, you know my diamonds hittin' like Ray Lewis, baby
I pull up in a 'vert like I'm Uzi, baby
Huh, put me in a trap, I'ma get it all
Huh, huh, slide in rental truck with a 60-ball
Huh, I got a old jug, tryna scope, look like Paul Gasol
Huh, you playin' 'round with the gang, you got a lot of balls

You don't know the dopeman, I'm the f*ckin' dopeman
I can get some 'Za plates, I can get some loads in
I can pluck some f*ckin' bags, I can get some 'bows in
I was hungry for that cash, I'll kick some doors in
You don't know the dopeman, I'm the f*ckin' dopeman
I can get some 'Za plates, I can get some loads in
I can pluck some f*ckin' bags, I can get some 'bows in
I was hungry for that cash, I'll kick some doors in

Hoppin' out a Lamb' truck, that young nigga steady flexin'
I walked out the Louis store, I spent more than I expected
He just pulled up in a-, ugh, he drivin' like he tryna wreck it
I got young niggas in the trap, got more work than some Mexicans
Pull up, Lamb truck', it's bloody (vroom)
All that talkin', you ain't got no money (nigga)
Hide the dope for me, bae, if you love me
Nigga, my trap phone go dummy
Nigga, talkin' about trappin' dead
Trappin' ain't dead, you niggas scared
I get the dope and get it gone,
I'm tryna score like Patrick Mahomes

You don't know the dopeman, I'm the f*ckin' dopeman
I can get some 'Za plates, I can get some loads in
I can pluck some f*ckin' bags, I can get some 'bows in
I was hungry for that cash, I'll kick some doors in
You don't know the dopeman, I'm the f*ckin' dopeman
I can get some 'Za plates, I can get some loads in
I can pluck some f*ckin' bags, I can get some 'bows in
I was hungry for that cash, I'll kick some doors in
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Devante McCreary, Eliahu Lyandres, JAck Thierer
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Come Here

Come here, baby, uh, come here, baby, come here, baby, uh
Come here, baby, uh, come here, baby, uh (King Nathan with another one, come here, baby)
Come here, baby, uh (come here, baby)

Bust it, bust it, bust it, bust it
Bust it, baby, bust it, bust it, baby, bust it (come here, baby)
Pop it, pop it (pop it, nigga)
Pop it, pop it (pop it, baby)
Pop it, baby, pop it (pop it)
Pop it, baby, pop it (pop it, baby, uh)
Come here, baby (come here, bae)
Come here, baby (come here, bae)
Come here, baby (come here, mama)
Come here, baby (yeah)
Throw it back, baby (throw it back, baby)
Throw it back, baby (throw it back, baby)
Throw it back, baby (yeah)
Throw it back, baby (yeah)

Bust it, baby, bust it, look back when you f*ck me (come here, baby)
If that pussy water, I fly you out the country (phew)
She the throat GOAT (yeah), my dick like good coke
Pussy water, just slide in it (phew)
She want a nigga to dive in it (splash)
From the back, ass clappin', got me doin' high fives in it
Take a nigga bitch quick, nigga, we outside with it
Put her in some foreign shit, she say, "You the best, daddy"
You know that's my pussy, baby, she say, "Yes, daddy" (yeah)
Take off all that Forever 21, get this Chrome Heart (Chrome Heart, bae)
You deserve some ice, bae, that pussy on water park (splash)
We can walk in Saks Fifth, you deserve a shoppin' spree
We can go to Neiman Marcus, get you some hot Louis V
Ooh, that ass look good when I f*ck her (that ass look good, baby)
That pussy get slippery when I touch it (oh, it's slippery, baby)
Give her ass a spankin', you in trouble
Baby, I'll like it if you- (for real)

Bust it, bust it, bust it, bust it
Bust it, baby, bust it, bust it, baby, bust it (come here, baby)
Pop it, pop it (pop it, nigga)
Pop it, pop it (pop it, baby)
Pop it, baby, pop it (pop it)
Pop it, baby, pop it (pop it, baby, uh)
Come here, baby (come here, bae) (bust it)
Come here, baby (come here, bae) (bust it)
Come here, baby (come here, mama) (bust it)
Come here, baby (yeah) (bust it)
Throw it back, baby (throw it back, baby)
Throw it back, baby (throw it back, baby)
Throw it back, baby (yeah)
Throw it back, baby (yeah)

Come-come-come here, daddy, when he see me, he get happy (Sexyy)
I'm his lil' baby, but he know I'm super savage (yeah)
I love a get money nigga and he handsome (and he handsome)
When we at home, he throw the money, I be his dancer (baow, baow, baow)
Snatch a nigga off the block, now he on some bougie shit
Took him to the gun store, cashed out on the Glock and switch (baow, baow, baow)
Real boss shit, you ain't never met a bitch like this (nope)
When he in my guts, I say, "Who's is it?" He say, this my dick (mwah, duh)
F*ck me good, daddy, you can't have anything (yeah)
In my coochie 'til it's numb, got me shivering (damn)
I see that print through them joggers, king ding-a-ling (oh, wow)
Northside bitch, let's go get some chicken wings (Northside)
If I like you, then I'll put you in a Amiri jeans
He don't like his bitches nice, he like his bitches mean
Bust it, bust-bust it, he in love with me
When-when he call my phone, I answer on the first ring (it's Sexyy, duh)

Bust it, bust it, bust it, bust it
Bust it, baby, bust it, bust it, baby, bust it (come here, baby)
Pop it, pop it (pop it, nigga)
Pop it, pop it (pop it, baby)
Pop it, baby, pop it (pop it)
Pop it, baby, pop it (pop it, baby, uh)
Come here, baby (come here, bae) (bust it)
Come here, baby (come here, bae) (bust it)
Come here, baby (come here, mama) (bust it)
Come here, baby (yeah) (bust it)
Throw it back, baby (throw it back, baby)
Throw it back, baby (throw it back, baby)
Throw it back, baby (yeah)
Throw it back, baby (yeah)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Devante McCreary, Janae Wherry, Nathan Silfain
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Talk My Shit

(Damn)
Nigga
Nigga
Yeah (Big Za)
Pussy (Big Za), nigga
Yeah

Diamonds on me dancin' (nigga), pinky ring full of crystals, bae (bling)
Big Za in the building, come and take a picture, bae (Za)
Young nigga poppin' shit, you know I'm that nigga, bae (yeah)
Wrist piece on bling-blaow, neck piece on blizzard, bae (bling)
I'll throw some ones, baby, you do that dance on me (come here, bae)
I'll throw a thousand more, keep shakin' that ass on me (come here, bae)
Young nigga ridin' 'round with a-, yeah (yeah)
Young nigga ridin' 'round, fifty thousand cash on me

Hoppin' out a black truck, Off-White 'fit (nigga)
It took a lot of grindin' just to talk this shit, nigga
Re-up on some-, I gotta get off of these bitches, nigga
Pockets full of-, I'm startin' to walk like a chicken, nigga
Speed limit twenty-five, got caught doin' sixty, nigga (yoom)
Fifteen hundred on Balenciagas, it cost just to kick it, nigga
I'm that nigga, bae, I feel myself (I feel myself)
I'm drivin' this bitch like I wanna kill myself (yoom)

Diamonds on me dancin' (nigga), pinky ring full of crystals, bae (bling)
Big Za in the building, come and take a picture, bae (Za)
Young nigga poppin' shit, you know I'm that nigga, bae (yeah)
Wrist piece bling-blaow, neck piece blizzard, bae (bling)
I'll throw some ones, baby, you do that dance on me (come here, bae)
I'll throw a thousand more, keep shakin' that ass on me (come here, bae)
Young nigga ridin' 'round with a, yeah (yeah)
Young nigga ridin' 'round, fifty thousand cash on me
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Devante McCreary, Emmanuel Kolapo
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Trippin

Nigga
Yeah, yeah
(King Nathan with another one)

Uh, I got racks stuffed all in my jeans now (my jeans now)
I got big plays, I can run a mean route (a mean route)
I ain't never been no lame-ass nigga, I'ma pop it (pop it, nigga)
I'ma run routes and catch the ball like DeAndre Hopkins (brr)
Re'd up with the plug, got it all off today (yoom)
Got my wrist all in the bowl like I'm eatin' Frosted Flakes
I ain't have to go to McDonald's, I'm ridin' with a ten-piece chicken
He say, "Money ain't everything", I say, "That nigga there trippin'"

Nigga, my hood full of dope cookers (nigga)
Blue face Carti' (nigga) full of nose boogers (bling)
Gucci down head to toe, goggles just to match (nigga)
I be pullin' up in a-, what kind of f*ckin' car is that? (F*ck is that?)
'Member I ain't have no money, and them niggas laughed at me (haha)
Now I stay with dog shit like I'm Craig Daddy (nigga)
Only way I'll lay down, nigga, yeah
Only way I'll lay down, nigga, is if the feds catch me
I'll beat the f*ckin' bowl until it lock the way I need
I'll beat the f*ckin' road 'til I put that bitch to sleep (zoom)
This is murk city, I'm throwin' up but I got brothers that's Z
And I'm screamin' free my niggas 'til they let my nigga free

Uh, I got racks stuffed all in my jeans now (my jeans now)
I got big plays, I can run a mean route (a mean route)
I ain't never been no lame-ass nigga, I'ma pop it (pop it, nigga)
I'ma run routes and catch the ball like DeAndre Hopkins (brr)
Re'd up with the plug, got it all off today (yoom)
Got my wrist all in the bowl like I'm eatin' Frosted Flakes
I ain't have to go to McDonald's, I'm ridin' with a ten-piece chicken
He say, "Money ain't everything", I say, "That nigga there trippin'"

Nigga, my hood full of dope cookers
Blue face Carti full of nose boogers
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Devante McCreary, Nathan Silfain
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Obama Runtz

Nigga, nigga
Yeah (yeah)
Cut the small talk (Big Za)
I like cash talk (Gentle Beatz)
Nigga, yeah
Nigga

Nah, cut the small talk (what I'm talkin' 'bout), I like cash talk (money)
Bae, these diamonds hittin', turn the flash off (bling)
I'm like Winn-Dixie, I get bags off (yoom)
Baby got a pretty face, slim waist, ass soft (come here, baby)
I'ma get my own sack, bitch, I never had to beg (nigga)
I ain't takin' shit back, bitch, I said what I said (nigga)
I was down bad and they left your boy for dead (huh?)
She say, "Girl, that fat nigga keep a loaf of bread" (look at 'em)

I still got powerhouses comin' through on mopeds (yoom)
I'ma still run that check up like I got four legs (beep, beep)
Give me any drug, I'ma get it off (on God)
I'ma snap on these f*ck nigga every time they piss me off (pussy nigga)
Bitch, I'm tryna score, I ain't got no time to punt (remember that)
I'm fillin' up my Slapwood with Obama Runtz (haha)
Bitch, throw me the alley-oop, yeah (yeah, Big Za)
Bitch threw me the alley-oop, I f*cked around and dunked
Hoo-hoo, drops the sledgehammer
Huh, come f*ck with a boss, pay your rent, baby (pay your rent, baby)
You know I pull up fresher than a mint, baby (mint, f*ck nigga)
Your baby daddy broker than a bitch, baby (broke-ass nigga)
You can't see nothin' but diamonds behind these tints, baby (baby)

Nah, cut the small talk (What I'm talkin' 'bout), I like cash talk (money)
Bae, these diamonds hittin', turn the flash off (bling)
I'm like Winn-Dixie, I get bags off (yoom)
Baby got a pretty face, slim waist, ass soft (come here, baby)
I'ma get my own sack, bitch, I never had to beg (nigga)
I ain't takin' shit back, bitch, I said what I said (nigga, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
I was down bad and they left your boy for dead (Huh?)
She say, "Girl, that fat nigga keep a loaf of bread" (look at 'em)

Ayy, this real ice, I don't need a flash for this shit (nigga)
For this cash, got a bad bitch that'll do a trick (she gon' do some tricks for it)
Designer down, I ain't take the tag off this shit (f*ck it)
They ask me why, 'cause, bitch, I paid a bag for this shit (on God)
I'm that type of nigga, get a rap check, go buy a brick (go buy a brick)
I'm the type of nigga, catch you hatin', I'ma slide your bitch (hit your bitch)
You with this shit or you ain't, pick what side you with (pick a side)
Bag still comin' in, all kinda shit (all kinda)
Foreign car driver, pull up all kinda whips (skrrt, skrrt)
Trap nigga fashion, put on all kinda drip (I'm dripped up)
Pack do gymnastics, nigga, I'ma make it flip (yeah-yeah)
All these blue hundreds on me, got 'em thinkin' I'm a Crip (huh)
Long live Nip, all I know is hustle (hustle, nigga)
Real street nigga, got this shit up off the muscle (got it off the muscle, nigga)
All this jewelry on, I ain't got no time to tussle (I ain't got time to tussle, nigga)
Lookin' like a bridge, jumpin' out that motherf*cker (jumpin' out that shit, nigga, jump out)

Cut the small talk (what I'm talkin' 'bout), I like cash talk (money)
Bae, these diamonds hittin', turn the flash off (bling)
I'm like Winn-Dixie, I get bags off (vroom)
Baby got a pretty face, slim waist, ass soft (come here, baby)
I'ma get my own sack, bitch, I never had to beg (nigga)
I ain't takin' shit back, bitch, I said what I said (nigga)
I was down bad and they left your boy for dead (huh?)
She say, "Girl, that fat nigga keep a loaf of bread" (look at 'em)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Daniel Schnabel, Devante McCreary, Tareek Williams
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Piss Me Off

Nigga
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Big Za (Gentle Beatz)
Yeah, ayy (nigga)

Chasin' chicken, got me dripped all in this sauce, baby (sauce)
I don't know why, but I fell in love with breakin' the law, baby (breakin' the law, baby)
You better watch your mouth, you talkin' to a boss, baby
I shit on niggas every time they piss me off, baby (bitch)
I'm smokin' ZaZa with the dark Crush and the raw
If it ain't about money, bitch, I don't need even wanna be involved (ayy, nigga)
If it ain't about money, I don't give a f*ck 'bout it at all (ayy, nigga)
I'm screamin', "F*ck 12," until they free my dog (f*ck 12)

I'm screamin', "F*ck 12," free my big brother, nigga (f*ck 12)
You ain't used to niggas with money, bitch, I ain't them other niggas (them other niggas)
Uh, them niggas don't stand on business, hold on, hold on (yeah, yeah)
Say, them niggas don't stand on business, I ain't f*ckin' with 'em
I got my own motion, f*ck I need a ho for? (F*ck I need a ho for?)
Uh, this a fast car, the f*ck I'm drivin' slow for? (Skrrt)
It's many ways to get a bag, the f*ck you broke for? (Broke for)
I'm on an isle, bad bitch eatin' me while I roll up (phew)
Bein' 'round that broke shit, it give me a headache
And she got a smart mouth, gotta make sure her head straight (straight)
I'ma still chase that money, yeah (yeah)
I'ma still chase that money even if my legs break (break)
Nigga know I'm super lit (nigga), I be fresher than a bitch (bitch)
And my phone be doin' tricks (brr), if you broke, get it fixed
On they top like some wicks and I'm smellin' like a brick
And I still be bustin' licks (phew, phew), and I'm ballin' like the Knicks

Chasin' chicken, got me dripped all in this sauce, baby (sauce)
I don't know why, but I fell in love with breakin' the law, baby (breakin' the law, baby)
You better watch your mouth, you talkin' to a boss, baby
I shit on niggas every time they piss me off, baby (bitch)
I'm smokin' ZaZa with the dark Crush and the raw
If it ain't about money, bitch, I don't need even wanna be involved (ayy, nigga)
If it ain't about money, I don't give a f*ck 'bout it at all (ayy, nigga, Gentle Beatz)
I'm screamin', "F*ck 12," until they free my dog (f*ck 12)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Daniel Schnabel, Devante McCreery
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Muscle Up

Yeah (nigga)
Nigga, yeah
Yeah, yeah
Nigga, nigga

Nigga, I'm a money fiend (nigga), I'm a cash addict (yeah)
All these f*ckin' blues, look like I play for the Magic (beep-beep)
Ridin' 'round with a-, I can't let 'em catch me lackin' (no)
Walked in the Gucci store, spent 6K on a jacket (nigga)
Nigga your trap phone weak, get your muscle up (get it up nigga)
You runnin' your f*ckin' mouth, I'm tryna run it up, huh (run it up nigga)
We don't care 'bout none of them niggas, they can't f*ck with us (they can't f*ck with us, baby)
I've been f*ckin' up my liver, drank in my double cup

Trap ain't dead, these niggas scary
We make movies, Tyler Perry (yeah)
Seen my chain, the bitch went to starin' (yeah)
This ain't a Mustang, this a McLaren (nigga)
Play with a shark, your ass get buried
Me and the blue hunnids got married
Pull up smokin' Lemon Cherry, spent 8K at Burberry
Crackers trollin' on my page, got me scared to drop a pic (what the f*ck)
Nigga, we havin' our way, we them niggas popping shit
Nigga, I'm where that check be, trap niggas respect me (yeah)
Sixty ball on my neck piece
Nigga, we havin' f*ckin' cheese, nigga

Nigga, I'm a money fiend (nigga), I'm a cash addict (yeah)
All these f*ckin' blues, look like I play for the Magic (beep-beep)
Ridin' 'round with a-, I can't let 'em catch me lackin' (no)
Walked in the Gucci store, spent 6K on a jacket (nigga)
Nigga your trap phone weak, get your muscle up (get it up nigga)
You runnin' your f*ckin' mouth, I'm tryna run it up, huh (run it up nigga)
We don't care 'bout none of them niggas, they can't f*ck with us (they can't f*ck with us, baby)
I've been f*ckin' up my liver, drank in my double cup
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Devante McCreary, Donte Ononiewu, Jaxson McNeely, Piotr Antoszek
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Mike Smiff

Yeah, yeah (Big Za), Big Za
Nigga, nigga, nigga

Niggas be switchin' up, bitches pick and choose, nigga (facts)
You love to run your mouth, you need to make some moves, nigga (make some moves, nigga)
I bust a power play, and spend that on some shoes, nigga (nigga)
I'm in a white Benz with a red bitch, pocket full of blues (beep, beep, beep)
I'ma be all up in your chest just like some mucus, baby (mucus, baby)
I want you to wait for me just like I'm Future, baby (like I'm Future, nigga)
I'll go and catch my powerhouse on a scooter, baby (on a scooter, baby)
All this white girl in the trap, it look like Hooters, baby (like Hooters, baby)

It get real slippery, but you better not slip, uh (you better not slip, nigga)
I'ma chase that money, I feel like Mike Smiff, uh (I feel like Mike Smiff, nigga)
Real trap Olympics nigga, nigga (yeah, yeah), huh
Real trap Olympics, I just made a nice flip
The motherf*ckin' biggest, don't play with it (Don't play with it)
No Uncle Ruckus, I hate niggas (I hate f*ck niggas)
Switch out the runners, I stay shippin' (skrrt, skrrt, skrrt)
Dunk on a f*ck nigga, Blake Griffin (nigga)
Racks on me, so I sag a lil' bit
She eat a slab, a nasty lil' bitch (Bitch)
Bruh, you can keep her, I had her, lil' bitch
Beatin' the pot like I'm mad at the bitch (skrrt, skrrt, skrrt)
He say he got three fifty, I'm finna head that way, uh, uh (I'm finna head that way)
Bitch keep callin' my phone, nah, I can't miss this play, mm, mm (I can't miss this play)
Bitch tryna throw that pussy, nah, just give me face, uh, uh (nah, just give me top)
Bitch actin' like she bougie, bitch, you can get replaced, mm, mm (bitch, you can get re-swapped)
I'm talkin' 'bout pushin' P, four forty-eight, nigga (four forty-eight, nigga)
That boy say, he hungry, nigga, we got some plates, nigga (nigga, we got some plates, nigga)
I be deep in that bowl like some Frosted Flakes, nigga (like some Flakes, nigga)
I'm in the Dodge Charger tryna dodge a case, nigga (skrrt, skrrt, skrrt, skrrt, skrrt)

Niggas be switchin' up, bitches pick and choose, nigga (facts)
You love to run your mouth, you need to make some moves, nigga (make some moves, nigga)
I bust a power play, and spend that on some shoes, nigga (nigga)
I'm in a white Benz with a red bitch, pocket full of blues (beep, beep, beep)
I'ma be all up in your chest just like some mucus, baby (mucus, baby)
I want you to wait for me just like I'm Future, baby (like I'm Future, nigga)
I'll go and catch my powerhouse on a scooter, baby (on a scooter, baby)
All this white girl in the trap, it look like Hooters, baby (like Hooters, baby)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Devante McCreary, Tevin Blands
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Money Over Bitches

Nigga (yeah) Big Za
Yeah (get in wit' me), yeah (yeah), yeah
Big Za (Big Za), nigga

Get money, move swiftly
Get in motion, keep shiftin' (skrrt)
Tint the rental, keep switchin'
Nigga, it's money over bitches (facts), nigga, yeah
Nigga, it's money over bitches, nigga
Nigga, it's money over- (over)
Get money, move swiftly (yoom, yoom)
Get in motion, keep shiftin'
Tint the rental, keep switchin'
Nigga, it's money over bitches (beep, beep, beep, beep), nigga (nigga)
Nigga, it's money over bitches, nigga (nigga, beep, beep, beep)
Nigga

Got this shit off the ground (nigga), turned an O to a pound (facts)
I'm certified street (I'm street), the real niggas'll vouch (straight up)
Re-up and beat the road (beat the road), and bro gon' move the load (move the load)
And we don't talk to trolls (facts), I love swingin' dough (skrrt, skrrt)
I love corner bendin' (skrrt), I need my window tinted (nigga)
Like, who the f*ck that is? (Who that is?)
Lil' bitch, mind your business (mind your business)
I'm a dope scratcher (nigga), I'm a drug finesser (brrt)
Hatin'-ass nigga wanna kill me 'cause I'm applyin' pressure (pussy-ass)
I ball like J.J. Redick, my f*ckin' pocket's pregnant (nigga)
Ain't never need a nigga (no), I'm in rotation heavy (facts)
Trap phone bustin' (brrt), I'm outside thuggin' (nigga)
They love it when it's pretty (facts), they leave you when it's ugly (they mad)
Pull up quick, serve my buddy (skrrt)
Out the dirt, super muddy (straight up)
I pull up like, "What's happenin'?" (What's happenin'?)
I pull off like, "F*ck it" (I'm gone)
I'm posted up, thuggin' it (thuggin' it)
I'm on the block huggin' it (huggin' it)
Went from bike to a bucket, went from bucket to luxury (skrrt)
A big dog, baby (baby), Mr. Get It Off, baby (baby)
I'm real raw, baby (baby), I break laws, baby (baby)
A big dog, baby (baby), yeah (yeah), Mr. Get It Off, baby, yeah (yeah)

Get money, move swiftly
Get in motion, keep shiftin' (skrrt)
Tint the rental, keep switchin'
Nigga, it's money over bitches (facts), nigga, yeah
Nigga, it's money over bitches, nigga
Nigga, it's money over- (over)
Get money, move swiftly (vroom, vroom)
Get in motion, keep shiftin'
Tint the rental, keep switchin'
Nigga, it's money over bitches (beep, beep, beep, beep), nigga (nigga)
Nigga, it's money over bitches, nigga (nigga, beep, beep, beep)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Daniel Schnabel, Devante McCreary
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




22

Nigga
Big Za, yeah, yeah
Hmm
Ah, come and get some-, I got it for twenty-two
I'll spend your left pocket- (King Nathan with another one)

I'm smokin' on big 'Za, got me movin' slow, huh (Big Za)
I'll blow my right pocket in a Louis store (nigga)
What you know about the struggle (nigga), gettin' it off the muscle? (yeah)
Trap phone boomin' (yeah), trap do numbers (trap)
What you know about the struggle, gettin' it off the muscle? (yeah)
Trap phone boomin' (yeah), trap do numbers (nigga)
Come and get some-, I got it for twenty-two (twenty-two)
I'll spend your left pocket on some tennis shoes (nigga)

Real street nigga, hit the trap, get it done (get it done)
VIP, strip club, I need a thousand ones (I need a thousand ones, come here, baby)
T-shirt Rhude, baby, pockets full of blues, baby (blues, baby)
She know I'm that dude, baby (yeah), she know that I'm huge, baby (yeah)
Pussy nigga reach for the chain, he must wanna die (bitch)
I'll take a nigga bitch, pull up 7-40i (yoom)
I don't even wanna hit your joint, nigga, I'm smokin' 'Za (pussy nigga)
I feel like I'm Tyreek Hill, ten on me now (ten ball)
Treat the pack like a good worker, you ain't gotta help me move this bitch (yeah)
I'll move a bitch out the way, I feel like I'm Ludacris, nigga (Ludacris, haha)
And I move packs (nigga)
I go to the mall, but take me straight to Saks (nigga)
I'ma handle her, you ain't gotta ask no question (yeah)
I can teach juggin', I can teach finessin' (facts)
I can teach swervin', I can teach steppin' (nigga)
Look at my diamonds, them bitches wrestlin' (them bitches wrestlin', bling)

I'm smokin' on big 'Za, got me movin' slow, huh (Big Za)
I'll blow my right pocket in a Louis store (nigga)
What you know about the struggle (nigga), gettin' it off the muscle? (yeah)
Trap phone boomin' (yeah), trap do numbers (trap)
What you know about the struggle, gettin' it off the muscle? (yeah)
Trap phone boomin' (yeah), trap do numbers (nigga)
Come and get some-, I got it for twenty-two (twenty-two)
I'll spend your left pocket on some tennis shoes (nigga, nigga, nigga)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Devante McCreary, Nathan Silfain
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Back to: Bossman Dlow


Genre(s): Rap, Hip Hop, Trap
Producer(s): Dxntemadeit
Length: 39:00
Released: March 15th, 2024
Year: 2024

Tags:
No tags yet