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Future - EVOL Album Lyrics



Future - EVOL Lyrics






Aint No Time

Kicking flavors Saint Laurent watch how I walk
Man this paper be the reason why we talk
Ain't no favors, they gon' outline you in chalk
You the biggest, biggest hater of them all
It ain't no time, it ain't no time, it ain't no time
It ain't no time, it ain't no his, it ain't no mine
It ain't no time, it ain't no time, it ain't no lying
It ain't no time, it ain't no time, it ain't no flying

You dropping them dimes, you dropping them dimes, you dropping them dimes
You look like you lying, you look like you lying, you look like you lying
We do this Sunday to Sunday
Sun up to the sun down
Look like I stepped on the runway
They try to tell me to calm down
Peep how I came in the game and I start rocking that Tom Ford
We don't what we be saying, we just be yelling out bonjour
We don't what we be saying, we just be yelling out bonjour
I like to play with them bands right before I do the encore
I like to play with the cash, go in Laurent and spaz
I like to play with the cash, go to Chanel and spaz
I like to go to the jeweler, tell 'em to make me some glass
I like to play with the cash, go to Chanel and spaz

Kicking flavors Saint Laurent watch how I walk
Man this paper be the reason why we talk
Ain't no favors, they gon' outline you in chalk
You the biggest, biggest hater of them all
It ain't no time, it ain't no time, it ain't no time
It ain't no time, it ain't no his, it ain't no mine
It ain't no time, it ain't no time, it ain't no lying
It ain't no time, it ain't no time, it ain't no flying

You slangin' that iron, you slagin' that iron, you toting that iron
You pressin' the issue, you pushing the gas, you making 'em violate
I'm dropping the top on the foreign, I zig and I zag I'm all on the grass
I did what I had to pass, you niggas you better go back to your stash
I did what I had to do, I ran in that bitch I didn't have a mask
I did what I should have did, survive through the trenches and look like a man
I sit at the throne, I sit at the throne, you niggas ain't nothing but some clones
I sipping that Dom Perignon, when I'm at the store they ringing me up
My bitch on a beach, gotta meat it up
I done gained a little weight and I'm keeping it up
Step in them christians I came out the mud
I'm flexing on purpose when I'm in the club

Kicking flavors Saint Laurent watch how I walk
Let this paper be the reason why we talk
Ain't no favors, they gon' outline you in chalk
You the biggest, biggest hater of them all
It ain't no time, it ain't no time, it ain't no time
It ain't no time, it ain't no his, it ain't no mine
It ain't no time, it ain't no time, it ain't no lying
It ain't no time, it ain't no time, it ain't no flying

I like to play with the cash, go in Laurent and spaz
I like to play with the cash, go to Chanel and spaz
I like to go to the jeweler, tell 'em to make me some glass
I like to play with the cash, go to Chanel and spaz
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: JOSHUA LUELLEN, NAYVADIUS WILBURN
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group




In Her Mouth

I'm tryna f*ck the DA lady in her mouth though
Hit some R&B shit on the jet though
I got stacks on me, got stacks on me like Alpo
Since a young ass nigga I was dead broke
F*ck that fake shit nigga, f*ck that fraudulent pretending
Got young Doolie on the body and I really do miss her
Let's flip the clip and spray that bitch for big daddy
Let's flip the clip and spray that bitch for big daddy

Punching on the gas, I done rented me a bag though
Two hundred on a the dash, baby this is not a Jaguar
You don't have to ask, keep that hammer on me, MC
You show these niggas love and they gonna show you a barrel
It's Taliban gang, we in a whole 'nother era
Our money ain't the same, I'm in a whole 'nother bracket
It's five thousand or better, what I spend on a jacket
Finesse a nigga momma in the hood when I'm trappin'
Praying 'bout this karma when a gun on my Franklins
These niggas don't want drama, they some federal agents
Run inside your house for them coke leaves
They gon' shoot you in the head if you the police

I'm tryna f*ck the DA lady in her mouth though
Hit some R&B shit on the jet though
I got stacks on me, got stacks on me like Alpo
Since a young ass nigga I was dead broke
F*ck that fake shit, nigga, f*ck that fraudulent pretending
Got young Doolie on the body and I really do miss her
Let's flip the clip and spray that bitch for big daddy
Let's flip the clip and spray that bitch for big daddy

They got my dawg, violate a hundred bodies
I'm 'bout to cash out on a new Bugatti
I'm 'bout to pay the police off, John Gotti
They mixin' Actavis in with the molly
Pull a half a million dollar car up in the projects
You niggas wanna go to war, it's like in ISIS
That bitch gon' f*ck your homeboy 'cause she triflin'
They got my lil' one down the road on the homi'
He got Freebandz tatted 'cross his stomach
I'm 'bout to smash the prosecutor and the attorney
And I've been hustlin' long time, on a journey
I wake up, go and blow a dime off in Barneys

I'm tryna f*ck the DA lady in her mouth though
Hit some R&B shit on the jet though
I got stacks on me, got stacks on me like Alpo
Since a young ass nigga I was dead broke
F*ck that fake shit, nigga, f*ck that fraudulent pretending
Got young Doolie on the body and I really do miss her
Let's flip the clip and spray that bitch for big daddy
Let's flip the clip and spray that bitch for big daddy
(I'm tryna f*ck the DA lady in her mouth though
Hit some R&B shit on the jet though
I got stacks on me, got stacks on me like Alpo
Since a young ass nigga I was dead broke
F*ck that fake shit, nigga, f*ck that fraudulent pretending
Got young Doolie on the body and I really do miss her
Let's flip the clip and spray that bitch for big daddy
Let's flip the clip and spray that bitch for big daddy)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: JOSHUA LUELLEN, NAYVADIUS WILBURN
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Maybach

I ain't about to play with these niggas feel me?
I'm 'bout to get these bags ya dig?
Future, hold up, wassup
Good drink, good drink
We ain't playing with these
Freebandz, Freebandz
I just be, I just be getting it
I just be getting it
I just be getting it
You know what I'm saying?
Showing improvement
Getting fetti ya dig?

Laying low in a Maybach
Spraying at you like an Arab
Streets having you going crazy
I got my young niggas going crazy
Masked up nigga everyday
Got the sharp stick with me everyday
Half a pound in the ash tray
Burn it down nigga while I wait
Burn it down on good drink
On good drink, on good drink
Money long get your money long
Get these yellow diamonds I ain't had to call
Ridin' low like an esse
Getting doped up that's everyday
Hermes on me every day
Keep some Cartier on me every day

F*ck a bitch in a big way
And I hit her right on the staircase
Hit that mouth I go bareface
When I'm in that mouth I go bareface
Pain pills took a double dose
Gotta bank roll with some iron on me
They told you I was real, real nigga
They wasn't lying on me
I get better and better with time don't I?
Drinking codeine like wine don't I?
Step on the scene, got diamonds on me
It's a dirty game, nigga dying in it
The black range got a rind in it
Hit her throat then dive in it
Flip an officer, switch sides in it
Niggas switching sides, they some pie niggas
Thank god they ain't my niggas
Stacked tall like I'm hiding it
Steal a car use for Friday night
To hotbox at the ride in
Fire coups now I ride in it
Jimmy Choo I just vibe in 'em
I don't dab in 'em I just vibe in 'em
Boss nigga with a vibe with him

I ain't never tryna be a side nigga
Never tryna be a crap nigga
Take a champagne bath nigga
Take a real champagne bath nigga
You can hit him with that yopper now
I'mma gon' hit her and pay the tab nigga
You the one talking down with 'em
When a nigga turn around, tryna stab niggas

Laying low in a Maybach
Spraying at you like an Arab
Streets having you going crazy
I got my young niggas going crazy
Masked up nigga everyday
Got the sharp stick with me everyday
Half a pound in the ash tray
Burn it down nigga while I wait
Burn it down on good drink
On good drink, on good drink
Money long get your money long
Get these yellow diamonds I ain't had to call
Ridin' low like an esse
Getting doped up that's everyday
Hermes on me every day
Keep some Cartier on me every day

Styrofoams in the Phantom on me
Few racks with a hammer on me
Gotta move around cause them cameras on me
Gotta keep it cool when them cameras on me
Live and learn and I'm still going
Money burn and I'm still going
Count it up and I'm still going
I just count it up and I'm still going
High-tech and I'm still pouring
Got high-tech and I'm still pouring
Designer-signer man it's all on me
I got fathers diamonds and they all on me
Real cash nigga ball with it
Gotta bend over in the stall in it
I'mma rich nigga so I fall in it
Really it ain't none of y'all business
Dick, she stand tall in it
Flip her on her stomach then crawl in it
Pocket bands have a ball with 'em
Percocets have a ball with 'em
Pouring up act a dog with it
Taliban game AK, big rings like MJ
Audemar with a big face

Laying low in a Maybach
Spraying at you like an Arab
Streets having you going crazy
I got my young niggas going crazy
Masked up nigga everyday
Got the sharp stick with me everyday
Half a pound in the ash tray
Burn it down nigga while I wait
Burn it down on good drink
On good drink, on good drink
Money long get your money long
Get these yellow diamonds I ain't had to call
Ridin' low like an esse
Getting doped up that's everyday
Hermes on me every day
Keep some Cartier on me every day

Never tryna be a side nigga
Never tryna be a crap nigga
Take a champagne bath nigga
Take a real champagne bath nigga
You can hit him with that yopper now
I'mma gon' hit her and pay the tab nigga
You the one talking down with 'em
When a nigga turn around, tryna stab niggas
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: JOSHUA LUELLEN, NAYVADIUS WILBURN
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group




Xanny Family

Three exotic broads and I got 'em soakin' panties
Told 'em they were certified, welcome to the xanny family

Three exotic broads and I got 'em soakin' panties
Told 'em they were certified, welcome to the xanny family

Three exotic broads and I got 'em soakin' panties
Told 'em they were certified, welcome to the xanny family

Three exotic broads and I got 'em actin' jiggy
Got 'em suckin', takin' bars, now they screamin' team litty (team litty)
I'm just tryna slide on lil shawty hit the side though
You get penalized, you come around, it ain't enough dough
Keep a bag of xannies if you tryna join the family
Got the sauce on me in this off white tanny
Puerto Rican freakin' oh she sneakin', I done ordered up
She was goin' in inside the spur like a party bus
Pardon me, before I take a greed I never brag or boast
She ain't speak no inglo, but I know she like to tweak that coke

Three exotic broads and I got 'em soakin' panties
Told 'em they were certified, welcome to the xanny family

Three exotic broads and I got 'em soakin' panties
Told 'em they were certified, welcome to the xanny family

Promethazine, codeine and champagne for us
The sauce look so clean like some angel dust
We workin' ever day, it ain't the same for us
You comin' to the crib, bring a gang of tuss
I dip it in the blunt, I'm tryna smoke the mud
I loaded up my gun, I'm tryna smoke the plug
When I get to wavin' this hammer I'm gonna soak ya up
I got trophies, I got dooshe, got a way bigger bus
I get loaded to the celiling, gotta roll me some bud
I'mma dab inside that backwood, I don't play with my nose
Got some oxycont, some roxy, 'bout to play with these hoes
Got these bitches drunk and sloppy, ready to come out they clothes too

Three exotic broads and I got 'em soakin' panties
Told 'em they were certified, welcome to the xanny family

Three exotic broads and I got 'em soakin' panties
Told 'em they were certified, welcome to the xanny family

Puerto Rican freakin' oh she sneakin', I done ordered up
She was goin' in inside the spur like a party bus
Pardon me, before I take a greed I never brag or boast
She ain't speak no inglo, but I know she like to tweak that coke
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: JOSHUA LUELLEN, NAYVADIUS WILBURN, LELAND TYLER WAYNE
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Lil Haiti Baby

Yeah, yeah
It's that EVOL, ah
You understand me?

I bagged this bad bitch, it was nothing to get her
You want a whole brick? Oh it's nothing to get 'em
Oh, you want diamonds like this? It wasn't nothing to get 'em
I had to focus, then it wasn't nothing to get 'em

Hey, thirty thousand on a watch, I swear thank God I'm ballin'
Feds watching on my spot, they say somebody called 'em
Hottest nigga in the streets, they see my Audemars
Hottest nigga in the streets, three thousands grams of shoo
Boston, Georgia, I'm with that game, you got that girl that blow
Oh, you want my life, that's la famil, that's all I know
Catch me pissing out the codeine from the night before
This for Khaled, this for niggas 'round the Ace and bottles
This for G-rod, C-Rod, all these niggas banging B's
This the greatest story never told, you gotta see it
I, I got some names but I ain't gon' never drop 'em
Aye, she say my name but she won't ever drop me

You want an R&B chick, shawty it ain't nothin' to get her
You want to run around the town, well it ain't nothin' to get her
You want to drive around in that Rolls, you know it ain't nothin' to get her
You know that I'm gonna make homies ride for me, it ain't nothin' to get 'em

We throwed away that money cause that mula swole
I throw that grams of bar, I'm servin' in the cold
Got fifty eight grams of bar, we servin' up here?
They say they got Magnolia, shawty bangin' either
They trapped out Angola, they was out the NOLA
Then f*ck around and then know you, got to be a cobra
They cooped up with that yola, not that good coke cola
I f*cked around and showed them that my heart is colder
My water whippin' issues now we packin pistols
They packin' gats and lots these niggas sending missiles
They say they hate the kid, the kid was getting' mula
You wanna ask around, then you can ask my jeweler

Bodies came around, he shot 'em on a bike
Oh he poppin' wheelies, a lil Haiti baby
Oh they say that nigga he just a lil Haiti baby
Oh they say that boy he just a lil Haiti baby
Shoot in broad day, he shoot in broad day
Shot the whole window up in broad day
Oh that's that lil Haiti baby, Haiti baby
Oh that's that lil Haiti baby, Haiti baby

Dumping down the pills, I feel my head explodin'
Roll a pound of dope, I gotta keep on smokin'
Money comin' in, we ain't gon' never spend it
Ten thousand bags of kush, we ain't gon' never listen
I just wanna be there for my nigga, woo
I just wanna go back to the Bentley store
I just wanna go back to the Lamb' store
I just wanna buy another Rover though
I just wanna get back on a yacht tomorrow
I just wanna buy another spot tomorrow
All this money comin' in, can't never spend it
I swear, all this money comin' in, we're still winnin'
Shoot in broad day, shoot in broad day
Shot the whole window up in broad day
Oh that's that lil Haiti baby, Haiti baby
Oh that's that lil Haiti baby, Haiti baby

Coke in all the cars, we ain't got no facade
Pull up in that 'Rari, we don't know facade
Pull up with that yappa, it wasn't no facade
Lettin' off all the rounds, it wasn't just no facade

Bodies came around, he shot 'em on a bike
Oh he poppin' wheelies, he a lil Haiti baby
Oh they say that nigga, he a lil Haiti baby
Oh they say that boy, he a lil Haiti baby
Shoot in broad day, he shoot in broad day
Shot the whole window up in broad day
Oh that's that lil Haiti baby, Haiti baby
Oh that's that lil Haiti baby, Haiti baby

Dumpin' back these pills, I feel my head explodin'
Jumpin' out these whips, we ain't on no facade
Pull up in that 'Rari, ain't no no Facade
Pull up in that 'Rari, ain't no no Facade
Shoot in broad day, he shoot in broad day
Shot the whole window up in broad day

EVOL
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: NAYVADIUS WILBURN, BENJMAIN DYER DIEHL, KHALED MOHAMMAED KHALED, IAN BRANDON LEWIS
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., BMG Rights Management, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




Photo Copied

Yeah, you lucky

Yeah, I'm on savage time nigga
I'm on savage time
I'm on ratchet time
I'm gon' smash her she so outta pocket
I'm gon' smash her but she photocopied

Once I adapted I got more options
I told her ignore that bitch she told me "yes daddy"
Man she, tryna get at me
Hoe you telling they business so tacky
We don't cuddle with none of you bitches
We don't wanna hustle with none of you niggas
Uh, I'm cool on them, don't even dap them niggas
Uh, I was in the trap they tried to trap a nigga
I pull up in that new Maybach and they wave
These niggas won't show no deuces they got hoe-waves
I walk inside the club and they wave
I put headshots and more hits out on my enemies

I got love for all my niggas who got love for me
I got bloods, crips, and GDs in my family tree
And everywhere I go them vice lords with me
You don't want no static we just got these things established
Bobble head bitches, they just smash automatic
Your baby-momma outta pocket knowing I'm a savage
I told you I don't give you the dope
I told you I don't give you that dope
You niggas don't exist we eat filet mignon
Go brazy with your bitch she try to stay the night
The first thing in the AM send her on a flight

Yeah, I'm on savage time nigga
I'm on savage time
I'm on ratchet time
I'm gon' smash her she so outta pocket
I'm gon' smash her but she photocopied

I passed her off like "oh bitch I'm him"
I'm seeing the way she actin' on a gram
You misrepresenting who I am
Oh, hold up
That photoshop making me nervous
I told you what's making me nervous
I know you ain't saving that pussy
You know somebody play in that pussy
And it's o, it's okay though

I got love for all my niggas who got love for me
I got bloods, crips, and GDs in my family tree
And everywhere I go them vice lords with me
You don't want no static we just got these things established
Bobble head bitches, they just smash automatic
Your baby-momma outta pocket knowing I'm a savage
I told you I don't give you the dope
I told you I don't give you that dope
You niggas don't exist we eat filet mignon
Go brazy with your bitch she try to stay the night
The first thing in the AM send her on a flight

Yeah, I'm on savage time nigga
I'm on savage time
I'm on ratchet time
I'm gon' smash her she so outta pocket
I'm gon' smash her but she photocopied
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: JOSHUA LUELLEN, NAYVADIUS WILBURN
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group




Seven Rings

Yeah, I told 'em
I told 'em if it's a problem, say it's a problem
I told you off the top that I was solid
I told you we get money, 'bout to peel out
I told you half of these niggas with me win now

My left and right hand Robert Horry
Most my nigga pop Xans unemployed
I can't stop, I'm goin' in, steroids
I tried to tell you when I came, it was God
Washin' off my hands with the mula like it's Ajax
Sippin' out my cup, hell no, don't you taste that
Hundred percent chance I done doped up and laced that
Chillin' with my family, hangin' low, I embrace them

20 different strippers, money double, triple
Started off slizzered, they callin' me the wizard
Vetti got that Porsche, Casino got that Porsche
Killers all I know, feel 'em up with the dough
You know I'm on that syrup, we 'bout to send the word
These niggas really argue who gon' shoot you first
Fatface wanna do you, Blade wanna do you
This bitch from Guyana, layin' low with that hammer
Tryin' to f*ck her on camera
I pray that my young nigga don't kill you on camera
You come too close, nigga, I'mma have to kill you on camera
I hate to discuss it
If my boy don't trust you, nigga, you know I don't trust you

My left and right hand Robert Horry
Most my nigga pop Xans unemployed
I can't stop, I'm goin' in, steroids
I tried to tell you when I came, it was God
Washin' off my hands with the mula like it's Ajax
Sippin' out my cup, hell no, don't you taste that
Hundred percent chance I done doped up and laced that
Chillin' with my family, hangin' low, I embrace them

Heater on your side, it's a hundred percent chance
Some of these people by my side is straight up out the can
We come from the bottom, upper echelon
I came here to serve you, need some cash on delivery
I just hope she washed her mouth out before you kiss her
My downtown bitch said, "Did you heard me?"
I think she stays five minutes from Birdy
I had an Arizona plug, used to serve me
I throwed that money in the bag 'cause it was dirty
He got that chopper on him now and he hurtin'
I know he 'bout to let it go and that's for sure
I know he 'bout to let it go and that's for sure

My left and right hand Robert Horry
Most my nigga pop Xans unemployed
I can't stop, I'm goin' in, steroids
I tried to tell you when I came, it was God
Washin' off my hands with the mula like it's Ajax
Sippin' out my cup, hell no, don't you taste that
Hundred percent chance I done doped up and laced that
Chillin' with my family, hangin' low, I embrace them

I told 'em if it's a problem, say it's a problem
I told you off the top that I was solid
I told you we get money, 'bout to peel out
I told you half of these niggas with me win now

My left and right hand Robert Horry
My left and right hand Robert Horry
Most my nigga pop Xans unemployed
I tried to tell you when I came, it was God
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Nayvadius Wilburn, Bryan Lamar Simmons, Lionel Nealy Jr., Terrell McNeal
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




Lie To Me

I see you Spin, this right here the truth
Future Hendrix, just like that

I'm a mothaf*ckin' boss (I'm a mothaf*ckin' boss)
I'm a mothaf*ckin' boss, I'm a mothaf*ckin' boss
I'm a mothaf*ckin' giant
I see how you watchin', I see how you lookin'
I see how you smile
I sit back and watch how the drama unfold while I'm on recline
I know the homies, my brothers, my cousins
They gon' ride for me
I know Tiarra, and Britney, and Keisha
They gon' lie for me
I got some people they know that I love 'em
But I ain't got time to see
I see in people the moves that I'm makin'
You know I'm playin' for keeps
You niggas ain't seein' me, never, you're never gon' see me

I got big racks, all in your face and you 'bout to get silent
Big fat butt, that little bitty car that you're drivin' (skrrt, skrrrt)
Big racks, anything I'm whippin' barely got mileage
Big racks, and you know that bitch that you're with, she mine
Yeah she my bitch, nigga
She wanna hit on me under the covers like lovers
Like we divine
She recognize that I'm so thorough
I'm under them briefs, I'm all on her mind
She wanna look me eye to eye and tell me her lies
I had accepted you
Just like you came and never look down on you
Tell that lil nigga to stay in his place before I expose you
You take one shot at me, you know that'll cause an explosion
Never fight the hand that feeds you, nigga
You gon' pay up nigga, yeah I squeeze the trigger
You an itchy finger blog type of nigga
And you know me, nigga

I'm a mothaf*ckin' boss (I'm a mothaf*ckin' boss)
I'm a mothaf*ckin' boss, I'm a mothaf*ckin' boss
I'm a mothaf*ckin' giant
I see how you watchin', I see how you lookin'
I see how you smile
I sit back and watch how the drama unfold while I'm on recline
I know the homies, my brothers, my cousins
They gon' ride for me
I know Tiarra, and Britney, and Keisha
They gon' lie for me
I got some people they know that I love 'em
But I ain't got time to see
I see in people the moves that I'm makin'
You know I'm playin' for keeps
You niggas ain't seein' me, never, you're never gon' see me

I got way way too many issues
Always coming out on the internet
Baby girl sayin' that she miss you
Is it too late for a comeback
I had to live with this crown on my head
I don't got no regrets, I don't have no regrets
I got to live with this crown on my head
I got to talk to my homies up stairs
Sorry to tell you I got you a message
Feeling this game and I'm learning my lesson
Accepting the hate when it's coming
I jumped out the Wraith on them bums
I tell you you're wrong when you're right
I'm never gon' judge, no I'm never gon' judge
You got a nigga, but I know you love me, baby
I know you love me

I'm a mothaf*ckin' boss (I'm a mothaf*ckin' boss)
I'm a mothaf*ckin' boss, I'm a mothaf*ckin' boss
I'm a mothaf*ckin' giant
I see how you watchin', I see how you lookin'
I see how you smile
I sit back and watch how the drama unfold while I'm on recline
I know the homies, my brothers, my cousins
They gon' ride for me
I know Tiarra, and Britney, and Keisha
They gon' lie for me
I got some people they know that I love 'em
But I ain't got time to see
I see in people the moves that I'm makin'
You know I'm playin' for keeps
You niggas ain't seein' me, never, you're never gon' see me
I'm a mothaf*ckin' boss (I'm a mothaf*ckin' boss)
I'm a mothaf*ckin' boss, I'm a mothaf*ckin' boss
I'm a mothaf*ckin' giant
I see how you watchin', I see how you lookin'
I see how you smile
I sit back and watch how the drama unfold while I'm on recline
I know the homies, my brothers, my cousins
I'm a mothaf*ckin' boss
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: GARY HILL, NAYVADIUS WILBURN, JOHN STEVEN MCGEE
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group




Program

We 'bout to win so big
Talkin' 'bout hydraulic money, yeah

Money comin' in
Tell me what's the program
Twenty-five bags of Kush
Yeah, get with the program
Shawty want that wave
Get the program
Shawty want that wave
What's the program
Throwing through the yay
What's the program
F*cking up the check
What's the program
I just blowed a bag
What's the program
I just went shopping
What's the program

Obama on my line
What's the program
You know don't give a damn
What's the program
I go out the way
That's the program
My lingo far away
That's the program
Different color bags
That's the program
I don't f*ck with swag
That's the program
Too much damn charisma
What's the program
Sizzle, that's my nigga
What's the program
Choppers and them AR's
That's the program
AR with the nuts
That's the program
Extendo FN
That's the program
Money best friend
That's my program

F*cking up the check
What's the program
I just blowed a bag
What's the program
I just went shopping
What's the program
Shawty want that wave
What's the program
Married to this money
What's the program
Married to this trap
What's the program
Married to the trap
What's the program
Married to the trap
What's the program

My BFF that cash
That's the program
My BFF that cash
What's the program

Every nigga 'round me a gangbanger
Ain't Hollywood bitch
I'm too famous
Never talk to the pink paranoia, f*ck
I just popped six Xans on a Quaalude
Shawty gave me head on that Adderall
G-wagons and Rovers, yeah I bought it for her
Metro told me hit them with the slow flow
Sizzle in the cut with the fo-fo
Lot of money make a bitch evil
That's why I gotta keep a desert eagle

F*cking up the check
What's the program
I just blowed a bag
What's the program
I just went shopping
What's the program
Shawty want that wave
What's the program
Married to this money
What's the program
Married to this trap
What's the program
Married to the trap
What's the program
Married to the trap
What's the program
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: JOSHUA LUELLEN, NAYVADIUS WILBURN
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., Universal Music Publishing Group




Low Life

[Refrain:]
Everybody getting high
Getting high, getting high, getting high

[Intro - Future:]
I just took some molly, what else? (Hey)
Got some bitch from Follies with us ('scuse me, 'scuse me)
She gonna f*ck the squad, what else?
I'm a f*ck her broads, what else?
Bitch from Pakistan, what up?
Ferraris and them Lambs, what else?
'Bout to f*ck this club up, what else?
(Get, get, get)

[Verse 1 - The Weeknd:]
I turn the Ritz into a poor house
It's like eviction number four now
Go 'head and ash it on the floor now
Girl go ahead and show me how you go down
And I feel my whole body peaking
And I'm f*cking anybody with they legs wide
Getting faded with some bitches from the West Side
East coast, nigga repping North Side
Never waste a hoe's time (Freebands)
Bitch, I'm on my own time
F*ck a nigga co-sign
Always change my number and my phone line
Baby girl, I don't lie
Used to have no money for a crib
Now my room service bill cost your whole lot
If they try to stunt me, I go all out military
I'm camo'ed all out, like I'm in the military
I free up all my niggas, locked up in the penitentiary

[Hook - The Weeknd & Future:]
Cause I'm always repping for that low life
Repping for that low life turn up
Low life, low life, low life
Know I'm repping for that low, low life
Representing, I'm representing, representing
Said I'm repping for that low life
Low life, low life, low life, low life
I'm representing for that low life
Said I'm repping for that low life
I'm repping, that's repping, I'm repping
Low life, low life, low life
Rep, rep, rep, rep, rep, rep, rep
Woo, woo, woo, woo
Yeah

[Verse 2 - Future:]
Wake up, take a sip of Ace of Spade like it's water
I been on the molly and them Xans with your daughter
If she catch me cheating, I will never tell her sorry
If she catch me cheating, I will never tell her sorry
Porches in the valley, I got Bentleys, I got Raris
Taking pain pills on the plane, getting chartered
Popping tags on tags, I was starving
Bitch, I got the juice and the carbon
Turn a five star hotel to a traphouse
Roaches everywhere, like we forgot to take the trash out
Flood my cross with ice, getting money my religion
Got my baby momma and my side bitch kissing
I turn the Ritz into a lean house
This my sixth time getting kicked out
I can't feel my face, I'm on Adderall, nauseous
Niggas tryna ride my f*ckin' wave, now they salty
Running with the wave, get you killed quick
Shoot you in your back like you Ricky
Lil Mexico, from no life to afterlife
My whole life, my whole life

[Hook - The Weeknd & Future:]
Cause I'm always repping for that low life
Repping for that low life
Low life, low life, low life
Know I'm repping for that low, low life
Representing, I'm representing, representing
Said I'm repping for that low life
Low life, low life, low life, low life
I'm representing that low life
Said I'm repping for that low life
Low life, I'm repping for that lowlife
Low life, low life, low life
Rep, rep, rep, rep, rep, rep, rep, woo
Yeah

[Bridge - Future:]
Yeah, they stereotyping
Cause they know a nigga keep ten rifles
And they know a nigga keep ten snipers
Keep a baby bottle like we wearing diapers
Yeah, they stereotyping
Cause they know a nigga keep twenty rifles
And they know a nigga keep twenty snipers
And they know a nigga keep ten wifeys
Sniper, sniper, sniper, sniper, sniper
Wifey, wifey, wifey, wifey, wifey
That's your wifey, wifey, wifey, wifey, wifey?
I think I like her, like her, like her, like her
That's your wifey, wifey, wifey, wifey, wifey?
I think I like her, like her, like her, like her
Oh, that's your wifey, wifey, wifey, wifey, wifey?
I think I like her, like her, like her, like her

[Refrain:]
Getting high, getting high, getting high
Everybody getting high
Getting high, getting high, getting high
Everybody getting high
Getting high, getting high, getting high
Everybody getting high
Getting high, getting high, getting high
And I'm the reason why
Getting high, getting high, getting high
Everybody getting high
Getting high, getting high, getting high
Everybody getting high
Getting high, getting high, getting high
Everybody getting high
Getting high, getting high, getting high
And I'm the reason why

[Outro - Future:]
I just took some molly, what else?
Got some bitch from Follies with us
She gonna f*ck the squad, what else?
I'm a f*ck her broads, what else?
Bitch from Pakistan, what up?
Ferraris and them Lambs, what else?
'Bout to f*ck this club, what else?
'Bout to f*ck this club, what else?
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Nayvadius Wilburn, Abel Tesfaye, Leland Wayne, Benjamin Diehl, Jason Quenneville
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., BMG Rights Management




Fly Shit Only

I take my drugs in doses



I been waking up to bitches in my hotel suite

We been gone on the molly

Holding onto Friday

Why you looking at me shawty

Recognizing I'm the only, only, only one that's ballin'

Only one that's ballin'

Only one who's going out the country

Gotta keep a translator for the models

Only one, I'm only reppin' fly shit only

Keep some fly shit on me, keep a fly bitch on me



Fly shit only, fly shit only

Fly shit only, fly shit only

Fly shit only, fly shit only

Fly shit only, fly shit only

Fly shit only, fly shit only

Fly shit only, fly shit only

Fly shit only, fly shit only

Fly shit only, fly shit only

Fly shit only



My trainers are matching my jacket

I'm strapped with that ratchet, I'm strapped with that Bape and that ape

I'm gone off these medicals, gone off these medicals

Maybe one day I'mma get off the drank

And maybe one day we can f*ck in the bank

I made me a Porsche out of two and a quarter

I got to Morocco and lay in some foreigns

Then I go back to Onyx and find me that one I can f*ck on

And touch on and turn up and turn on

We don't watch TV, we count Fettuccine

Four and a half, it's right under my beanie

I made me some snaps then I f*cked on a genie

Put her in a cab and I jumped in a 'Ghini

You gon' need yellow tape when I step on the scene

When you send me an invite, I come with a bitch like

She wrapped up in plastic, got coke in the mattress

All of this shit is about living lavish

This money, these cars, and these bitches, these carats

These radical styles, I'mma give you a style

You can take it, your new style ain't gon' make you a pile



I been waking up to bitches in my hotel suite

We been gone on the molly

Holding onto Friday

Why you looking at me shawty

Recognizing I'm the only, only, only one that's ballin'

Only one that's ballin'

Only one who's going out the country

Gotta keep a translator for the models

Only one, I'm only reppin' fly shit only

Keep some fly shit on me, keep a fly bitch on me



Fly shit only, fly shit only

Fly shit only, fly shit only

Fly shit only, fly shit only

Fly shit only, fly shit only

Fly shit only, fly shit only

Fly shit only, fly shit only

Fly shit only, fly shit only

Fly shit only, fly shit only

Fly shit only



Light skinned bone the same color macaroni

Put her hair in a pony, hit a note like Tony

I know you hoes been on it, now I'm back on my lonely

And I'm back how you want it and I'm back and I'm on it

Made a film like Sony, f*ck the fake and the phony

I gots cake in the morning, I rock Adidas and Margielas

I be staying at the telly, eat a sandwich out the deli

And my life is like Belly, Young Future, sincere



I been waking up to bitches in my hotel suite

We been gone on the molly

Holding onto Friday

Why you looking at me shawty

Recognizing I'm the only, only, only one that's ballin'

Only one that's ballin'

Only one who's going out the country

Gotta keep a translator for the models

Only one, I'm only reppin' fly shit only

Keep some fly shit on me, keep a fly bitch on me



Fly shit only, fly shit only

Fly shit only, fly shit only

Fly shit only, fly shit only

Fly shit only, fly shit only

Fly shit only, fly shit only

Fly shit only, fly shit only

Fly shit only, fly shit only

Fly shit only, fly shit only

Fly shit only, fly shit only
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: GARY HILL, NAYVADIUS WILBURN, JOHN STEVEN MCGEE
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Back to: Future


Evol (stylized in all caps) is the fourth studio album by American rapper Future. The album features a sole guest appearance from the Weeknd. It premiered on DJ Khaled's We The Best Radio debut on Beats 1. Evol released five months after the collaborative mixtape What a Time to Be Alive (2015) and a month after Purple Reign (2016).

Evol was supported by two singles: "Low Life" and "Wicked". The album debuted at number one on the US Billboard 200. It also debuted at number one on the US Top R&B/Hip-Hop Albums.
Performed By: Future
Genre(s): Hip hop, trap
Producer(s): Ben Billions, DaHeala, DJ Spinz, Metro Boomin, Schife Karbeen, SK, Southside, TM88, The Weeknd
Length: 39:26
Released: February 6th, 2016
Year: 2016

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