(80-80-808 Mafia) we just wanna get real high-igh-igh
(ATL Jacob, ATL Jacob)
That nigga know that bitch he got is mine, mine, mine
That's your bitch and that's my bitch too, nigga, don't forget
I was lookin' out my rearview, finger on the trigger
Switchin' bitches like tennis shoes, I damn near forget
I'm in love with my money, baby, I don't want shit
Panamera view inside my truck like a penthouse
Dog-ass bitch, she just tryna suck my wrist off
All these blue strips, I might bust out and Crip walk
Take the cocaine with me, they gon' make a nigga chain talk
Choosin' on a pimp, I'ma slice it like a chainsaw
You lil' bitty shrimp, I'ma take a nigga main ho
Send her home to you, she don't wanna talk to you, her brain sore
Grand remarkable, I get dollars like Diego
Grand National, made it skrrt outside the bando
Two Glock-40's, they gon' call me Pluto Rambo
Finessin' a sport, bitch, hand me the fork, yeah, yeah
Top like New York, bitch givin' intercourse, yeah, yeah
Drop-top Rolls-Royce like I ain't got a choice, yeah, yeah
Bag it up and sell it and go cop me some Screw
Twenty-six Pirellis, put on brand new shoes
Zero below, all this ice, catch the flu
Panamera view inside my truck like a penthouse
Dog-ass bitch, she just tryna suck my wrist off
All these blue strips, I might bust out and Crip walk
Take the cocaine with me, they gon' make a nigga chain talk
Choosin' on a pimp, I'ma slice it like a chainsaw
You lil' bitty shrimp, I'ma take a nigga main ho
I been tryna balance out the money with the dope
Too much drip, bitch gotta walk around with a float
Messy hoes know this bitch f*ckin' on a G.O.A.T
They know what come with that ice, Chane'-ne', Coco
I give bitches a lil' hype and then I adios
I got the Midas touch, extended Rolls-Royce Ghost
When I ain't got them hitters 'round, you still can't approach
Don't make me have to up this motherf*cker and let it go
Security for these bitches 'cause they ain't got no control
Don't make me have to up this motherf*cker and let it go
We just wanna get real high-igh-igh (high-igh-igh, high-igh-igh)
Future - WE JUS WANNA GET HIGH Lyrics
Future - WE JUS WANNA GET HIGH Lyrics
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(80-80-808 Mafia) we just wanna get real high-igh-igh
(ATL Jacob, ATL Jacob)
That nigga know that bitch he got is mine, mine, mine
That's your bitch and that's my bitch too, nigga, don't forget
I was lookin' out my rearview, finger on the trigger
Switchin' bitches like tennis shoes, I damn near forget
I'm in love with my money, baby, I don't want shit
Panamera view inside my truck like a penthouse
Dog-ass bitch, she just tryna suck my wrist off
All these blue strips, I might bust out and Crip walk
Take the cocaine with me, they gon' make a nigga chain talk
Choosin' on a pimp, I'ma slice it like a chainsaw
You lil' bitty shrimp, I'ma take a nigga main ho
Send her home to you, she don't wanna talk to you, her brain sore
Grand remarkable, I get dollars like Diego
Grand National, made it skrrt outside the bando
Two Glock-40's, they gon' call me Pluto Rambo
Finessin' a sport, bitch, hand me the fork, yeah, yeah
Top like New York, bitch givin' intercourse, yeah, yeah
Drop-top Rolls-Royce like I ain't got a choice, yeah, yeah
Bag it up and sell it and go cop me some Screw
Twenty-six Pirellis, put on brand new shoes
Zero below, all this ice, catch the flu
Panamera view inside my truck like a penthouse
Dog-ass bitch, she just tryna suck my wrist off
All these blue strips, I might bust out and Crip walk
Take the cocaine with me, they gon' make a nigga chain talk
Choosin' on a pimp, I'ma slice it like a chainsaw
You lil' bitty shrimp, I'ma take a nigga main ho
I been tryna balance out the money with the dope
Too much drip, bitch gotta walk around with a float
Messy hoes know this bitch f*ckin' on a G.O.A.T
They know what come with that ice, Chane'-ne', Coco
I give bitches a lil' hype and then I adios
I got the Midas touch, extended Rolls-Royce Ghost
When I ain't got them hitters 'round, you still can't approach
Don't make me have to up this motherf*cker and let it go
Security for these bitches 'cause they ain't got no control
Don't make me have to up this motherf*cker and let it go
We just wanna get real high-igh-igh (high-igh-igh, high-igh-igh)
(ATL Jacob, ATL Jacob)
That nigga know that bitch he got is mine, mine, mine
That's your bitch and that's my bitch too, nigga, don't forget
I was lookin' out my rearview, finger on the trigger
Switchin' bitches like tennis shoes, I damn near forget
I'm in love with my money, baby, I don't want shit
Panamera view inside my truck like a penthouse
Dog-ass bitch, she just tryna suck my wrist off
All these blue strips, I might bust out and Crip walk
Take the cocaine with me, they gon' make a nigga chain talk
Choosin' on a pimp, I'ma slice it like a chainsaw
You lil' bitty shrimp, I'ma take a nigga main ho
Send her home to you, she don't wanna talk to you, her brain sore
Grand remarkable, I get dollars like Diego
Grand National, made it skrrt outside the bando
Two Glock-40's, they gon' call me Pluto Rambo
Finessin' a sport, bitch, hand me the fork, yeah, yeah
Top like New York, bitch givin' intercourse, yeah, yeah
Drop-top Rolls-Royce like I ain't got a choice, yeah, yeah
Bag it up and sell it and go cop me some Screw
Twenty-six Pirellis, put on brand new shoes
Zero below, all this ice, catch the flu
Panamera view inside my truck like a penthouse
Dog-ass bitch, she just tryna suck my wrist off
All these blue strips, I might bust out and Crip walk
Take the cocaine with me, they gon' make a nigga chain talk
Choosin' on a pimp, I'ma slice it like a chainsaw
You lil' bitty shrimp, I'ma take a nigga main ho
I been tryna balance out the money with the dope
Too much drip, bitch gotta walk around with a float
Messy hoes know this bitch f*ckin' on a G.O.A.T
They know what come with that ice, Chane'-ne', Coco
I give bitches a lil' hype and then I adios
I got the Midas touch, extended Rolls-Royce Ghost
When I ain't got them hitters 'round, you still can't approach
Don't make me have to up this motherf*cker and let it go
Security for these bitches 'cause they ain't got no control
Don't make me have to up this motherf*cker and let it go
We just wanna get real high-igh-igh (high-igh-igh, high-igh-igh)
Writer: Jacob Canady, Joshua Howard Luellen, Nayvadius Wilburn
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Performed By: Future
From Album: i never liked you
Written by: Jacob Canady, Joshua Howard Luellen, Nayvadius Wilburn