(Let the band play)
My mama hate when I drink this shit
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Ayy, (lemme fire this blunt up)
(Lemme catch a vibe)
Ayy, 1997 I came in this world flexin'
Yeah, it was reckless in them trenches, had to make some shit happen
I had to leave them dirty bitches alone, them hoes was too messy
Yeah, they was pretty and petty, I can't let no hoe neglect me
Nah, nah, can't neglect me, Big Glock told my jeweler, "Baguette me"
Yeah, I remember ridin' 10 speeds, nowadays a nigga got 10 car keys
I was ridin' on the Huffy, now a nigga ridin' in the AMGs
Lil' nigga dusty, I got it out the mud now look at me, bitch
Huh, yeah, I got rich, yeah, I ran it up but still tote sticks
Uh, this lil' nigga here with the shit, this lil' nigga here he the shit (yeah)
Bitch, my dawg some pits, I'll sic 'em on rappers, get 'em
Yeah, all my ex bitches bitter
Yeah, they know I'm still that nigga, uh
Drop the top in the winter, yeah, just to show 'em how I'm feelin', uh
Bank account gettin' bigger, yeah, bigger, bigger, and bigger
Diamonds Ike Turner hittin', got ice, make you shiver, whoa
Life short, money long, I gotta keep the chrome 'cause these niggas out here want both
Nigga, I never ever ever had a wallet, I just can't fold
Bitch, I been this way since a lil' nigga, yeah you know it
1997 I came in this world flexin'
Yeah, it was reckless in them trenches, had to make some shit happen
I had to leave them dirty bitches alone, them hoes was too messy
Yeah, they was pretty and petty, I can't let no hoe neglect me, nah
1997 I came in this world flexin'
Yeah, it was reckless in them trenches, had to make some shit happen
I had to leave them dirty bitches alone, them hoes was too messy
Yeah, they was pretty and petty, I can't let no hoe neglect me, nah
Key Glock - Yellow Tape Album Lyrics
Key Glock - Yellow Tape Lyrics
Writer: Markeyvius Cathey
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Dough
(Band)
Yuh
Yuh
Yuh-yuh, yuh, yuh (let the band play)
Ayy, I'm runnin' to the money, you know how I'm comin'
Monday 'til Sunday night, be thumbin', thumbin', thumbin'
Got this bad bitch wit a onion and she got her own money
She say money keep her comin', but I keep them commas comin', in
Yuh, another check again, uh
I be killin' shit, Lord forgive me for my sins
Yeah, my wrist cost a 'Rari and my earrings cost a Benz
And my bitch is a Barbie, my name Key and not Ken
When I fired up my blunt, they like "Who f*ck broke the wind?"
Double up my cup, I sip lean, not gin
I be high as f*ck, it feel like my head spinnin'
But no, I ain't spendin' no time wit these bitches
Hell nah, give me head, keep your draws, yeah yeah
Big dawg, I don't know 'bout y'all, yeah yeah
Bling-blaow, jewelry game Niagara Falls, yeah yeah
Stack it tall, money in the floor and wall, uh, uh, yuh
One to the two to the three and to the four
Big Glock is all about his motherf*ckin' dough
Ready to make a entrance where my backend, bruh?
Because you know I'm 'bout to turn shit up
I told her throw that ass back so I can bust it like a bubble, uh
South Memphis nigga in this bitch, yeah, you know you in trouble
Ain't nuthin but a P thang, baby
Young iced-out nigga going crazy
Paper Route is the label that pays me
Unplayable so please don't try to play me
Know what I'm sayin? Uh, yeah, bitch, I'm the man
Before you talk raise up your hand, yuh
I been runnin' it up, these niggas just been runnin' errands, uh
How you screamin' Crip and Blood and ain't been to the land? What?
Hold up, dog pound, you's a mutt, you need to scram, yeah
You know how I get down, money talks, you hear me loud
Yeah I know you hear me loud, I be countin' like
One to the two to the three and to the four
Big Glock is all about his motherf*ckin' dough
Ready to make a entrance where my backend, bruh?
Because you know I'm 'bout to turn shit up
Yeah, turn it up, uh, bitch, I'm the shit, givin' niggas bubble guts
Yeah, every whip in my crib, it go two-hundred plus
Except my yellow short bus, that's my Rolls-Royce truck
Yeah, I be going nuts, nigga, I be going dumb (dummy)
Dumber, thumbin' through them numbers
Run up (run it up, run it up), run up if you wanna
Chopstick on me, bitch, I eat you like a tuna
Young niggas wit me, they'll eat you like piranha
I wonder why these niggas be hatin', yuh
Lord knows I really got boys shootin' like the navy, yuh
Big loud foreign toy wakin' up my neighbors, uh
They like "Where you going Glock?"
I'm going to get some paper, yeah
One to the two to the three and to the four
Big Glock is all about his motherf*ckin' dough
Ready to make a entrance where my backend, bruh?
Because you know I'm 'bout to turn shit up
One to the two to the three and to the four
One to the two to the three and to the four
One to the two to the three and to the four
Big Glock is all about his motherf*ckin' dough
Yeah, yeah, yeah, 'bout his motherf*ckin' dough
Yeah, yeah, yeah, 'bout his motherf*ckin' dough
Yeah, Glizzock
Yuh
Yuh
Yuh-yuh, yuh, yuh (let the band play)
Ayy, I'm runnin' to the money, you know how I'm comin'
Monday 'til Sunday night, be thumbin', thumbin', thumbin'
Got this bad bitch wit a onion and she got her own money
She say money keep her comin', but I keep them commas comin', in
Yuh, another check again, uh
I be killin' shit, Lord forgive me for my sins
Yeah, my wrist cost a 'Rari and my earrings cost a Benz
And my bitch is a Barbie, my name Key and not Ken
When I fired up my blunt, they like "Who f*ck broke the wind?"
Double up my cup, I sip lean, not gin
I be high as f*ck, it feel like my head spinnin'
But no, I ain't spendin' no time wit these bitches
Hell nah, give me head, keep your draws, yeah yeah
Big dawg, I don't know 'bout y'all, yeah yeah
Bling-blaow, jewelry game Niagara Falls, yeah yeah
Stack it tall, money in the floor and wall, uh, uh, yuh
One to the two to the three and to the four
Big Glock is all about his motherf*ckin' dough
Ready to make a entrance where my backend, bruh?
Because you know I'm 'bout to turn shit up
I told her throw that ass back so I can bust it like a bubble, uh
South Memphis nigga in this bitch, yeah, you know you in trouble
Ain't nuthin but a P thang, baby
Young iced-out nigga going crazy
Paper Route is the label that pays me
Unplayable so please don't try to play me
Know what I'm sayin? Uh, yeah, bitch, I'm the man
Before you talk raise up your hand, yuh
I been runnin' it up, these niggas just been runnin' errands, uh
How you screamin' Crip and Blood and ain't been to the land? What?
Hold up, dog pound, you's a mutt, you need to scram, yeah
You know how I get down, money talks, you hear me loud
Yeah I know you hear me loud, I be countin' like
One to the two to the three and to the four
Big Glock is all about his motherf*ckin' dough
Ready to make a entrance where my backend, bruh?
Because you know I'm 'bout to turn shit up
Yeah, turn it up, uh, bitch, I'm the shit, givin' niggas bubble guts
Yeah, every whip in my crib, it go two-hundred plus
Except my yellow short bus, that's my Rolls-Royce truck
Yeah, I be going nuts, nigga, I be going dumb (dummy)
Dumber, thumbin' through them numbers
Run up (run it up, run it up), run up if you wanna
Chopstick on me, bitch, I eat you like a tuna
Young niggas wit me, they'll eat you like piranha
I wonder why these niggas be hatin', yuh
Lord knows I really got boys shootin' like the navy, yuh
Big loud foreign toy wakin' up my neighbors, uh
They like "Where you going Glock?"
I'm going to get some paper, yeah
One to the two to the three and to the four
Big Glock is all about his motherf*ckin' dough
Ready to make a entrance where my backend, bruh?
Because you know I'm 'bout to turn shit up
One to the two to the three and to the four
One to the two to the three and to the four
One to the two to the three and to the four
Big Glock is all about his motherf*ckin' dough
Yeah, yeah, yeah, 'bout his motherf*ckin' dough
Yeah, yeah, yeah, 'bout his motherf*ckin' dough
Yeah, Glizzock
Writer: Markeyvius Cathey
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Word on the Streets
(Let the band play)
Yeah
Yeah
Uh, uh, Mr. Glock, ayy
I never ever put a bitch before my money (nah)
I never put a bitch before my money or my mommy (nah)
Yeah, you got the wrong youngin, baby, I am not no dummy, uh (bitch)
You know how I'm coming, bitch, I keep them commas comin', yeah
Where the money at? Run it, uh, all hundreds, yeah (yeah)
All these damn dead pres' make me feel haunted, uh
Big ass diamonds on my neck (bling), bungee jumpin', yeah (boing)
I be lookin' like a check, they be lookin' funny, hah, ayy
Word on the street, uh (word), that lil' nigga Key (Glock)
Word on the street, yeah, I heard he keep that heat (yeah)
Word on the street (word), yeah, I heard he play for keeps, uh
Word on the street, I heard they'll knock you off your feet, fire
Word on the street, uh (word), that lil' nigga Key (Glock)
Word on the street (word), yeah, I heard he keep that heat, uh
Word on the street, yeah, I heard he play for keeps, uh (I heard)
Word on the street (word), I heard they'll knock you off your feet (word)
Yeah, the gang pull up deep, AMG and SRTs (word)
And your bitch is a freak, she pull up, get straight on her knees, yeah (word)
That's your main squeeze, but Glizock f*ck her with ease, uh (word)
But that's another story, huh, let me sip my tea, yeah (hold up)
Let me sip my tea, I'm in London right now with my team, uh (my gang)
Smokin' on some pound, can't record when pounds in my jeans, yeah (can't)
This hoe just had the nerve to tell me I'm the man of her dreams, but
Can't nothin' in this world come between me and monefa (what the f*ck?)
I never ever put a bitch before my money (yeah)
I never put a bitch before my money or my mommy (uh-uh)
Yeah, you got the wrong youngin', baby, I am not no dummy, uh (bitch)
You know how I'm coming, bitch, I keep them commas comin', yeah
Where the money at? Run it, all hundreds, yeah
All these damn dead pres' make me feel haunted, uh
Big ass diamonds on my neck, bungee jumpin', yeah (boing)
I be lookin' like a check, they be lookin' funny, hah, ayy
Word on the street, uh (word), that lil' nigga Key (Glock)
Word on the street, yeah, I heard he keep that heat, uh
Word on the street, yeah, I heard he play for keeps, uh
Word on the street, I heard they'll knock you off your feet, fire
Knock you off your feet, uh, and put you on a t-shirt (t-shirt)
Bitch, everything I got came out the dirt, yeah (the mud)
Call me trillion dollar Glock, lil' bitch, I know my worth, uh (duh)
I be shittin' on these niggas, I do it on purpose (yeah)
Ballin' back to back to back without a f*ckin' jersey, uh (yeah)
Ain't no squares in my circle, I barely got a circle, uh (on gang)
I cut 'em off like surgery (cut), yeah, I did that shit real urgent, uh (on God)
I'm 'bout to buy a Birkin, fill it up with racks and tell my mama Christmas early
(Here, ma), ayy (yeah)
I never ever put a bitch before my money (on God)
I never put a bitch before my money or my mommy (on God)
Yeah, you got the wrong youngin, baby, I am not no dummy, uh
You know how I'm coming, bitch, I keep them commas comin', uh
Where the money at? Run it, all hundreds, yeah (blues)
All these damn dead pres' make me feel haunted, uh (ooh, ooh)
Big ass diamonds on my neck (bling), bungee jumpin', yeah (boing)
I be lookin' like a check, they be lookin' funny, hah, ayy
Word on the street, uh (word), that lil' nigga Key (Glock)
Word on the street (word), yeah, I heard he keep that heat, uh
Word on the street (word), yeah, I heard he play for keeps, uh
Word on the street, I heard they'll knock you off your feet, fire (off your feet, fire)
The f*ck?
Yeah
Yeah
Uh, uh, Mr. Glock, ayy
I never ever put a bitch before my money (nah)
I never put a bitch before my money or my mommy (nah)
Yeah, you got the wrong youngin, baby, I am not no dummy, uh (bitch)
You know how I'm coming, bitch, I keep them commas comin', yeah
Where the money at? Run it, uh, all hundreds, yeah (yeah)
All these damn dead pres' make me feel haunted, uh
Big ass diamonds on my neck (bling), bungee jumpin', yeah (boing)
I be lookin' like a check, they be lookin' funny, hah, ayy
Word on the street, uh (word), that lil' nigga Key (Glock)
Word on the street, yeah, I heard he keep that heat (yeah)
Word on the street (word), yeah, I heard he play for keeps, uh
Word on the street, I heard they'll knock you off your feet, fire
Word on the street, uh (word), that lil' nigga Key (Glock)
Word on the street (word), yeah, I heard he keep that heat, uh
Word on the street, yeah, I heard he play for keeps, uh (I heard)
Word on the street (word), I heard they'll knock you off your feet (word)
Yeah, the gang pull up deep, AMG and SRTs (word)
And your bitch is a freak, she pull up, get straight on her knees, yeah (word)
That's your main squeeze, but Glizock f*ck her with ease, uh (word)
But that's another story, huh, let me sip my tea, yeah (hold up)
Let me sip my tea, I'm in London right now with my team, uh (my gang)
Smokin' on some pound, can't record when pounds in my jeans, yeah (can't)
This hoe just had the nerve to tell me I'm the man of her dreams, but
Can't nothin' in this world come between me and monefa (what the f*ck?)
I never ever put a bitch before my money (yeah)
I never put a bitch before my money or my mommy (uh-uh)
Yeah, you got the wrong youngin', baby, I am not no dummy, uh (bitch)
You know how I'm coming, bitch, I keep them commas comin', yeah
Where the money at? Run it, all hundreds, yeah
All these damn dead pres' make me feel haunted, uh
Big ass diamonds on my neck, bungee jumpin', yeah (boing)
I be lookin' like a check, they be lookin' funny, hah, ayy
Word on the street, uh (word), that lil' nigga Key (Glock)
Word on the street, yeah, I heard he keep that heat, uh
Word on the street, yeah, I heard he play for keeps, uh
Word on the street, I heard they'll knock you off your feet, fire
Knock you off your feet, uh, and put you on a t-shirt (t-shirt)
Bitch, everything I got came out the dirt, yeah (the mud)
Call me trillion dollar Glock, lil' bitch, I know my worth, uh (duh)
I be shittin' on these niggas, I do it on purpose (yeah)
Ballin' back to back to back without a f*ckin' jersey, uh (yeah)
Ain't no squares in my circle, I barely got a circle, uh (on gang)
I cut 'em off like surgery (cut), yeah, I did that shit real urgent, uh (on God)
I'm 'bout to buy a Birkin, fill it up with racks and tell my mama Christmas early
(Here, ma), ayy (yeah)
I never ever put a bitch before my money (on God)
I never put a bitch before my money or my mommy (on God)
Yeah, you got the wrong youngin, baby, I am not no dummy, uh
You know how I'm coming, bitch, I keep them commas comin', uh
Where the money at? Run it, all hundreds, yeah (blues)
All these damn dead pres' make me feel haunted, uh (ooh, ooh)
Big ass diamonds on my neck (bling), bungee jumpin', yeah (boing)
I be lookin' like a check, they be lookin' funny, hah, ayy
Word on the street, uh (word), that lil' nigga Key (Glock)
Word on the street (word), yeah, I heard he keep that heat, uh
Word on the street (word), yeah, I heard he play for keeps, uh
Word on the street, I heard they'll knock you off your feet, fire (off your feet, fire)
The f*ck?
Writer: Markeyvius Cathey
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Ooh
(Let the band play) Glizzock
Yeah, yeah
Bitch, I'm that nigga, uh, yuh
I be fresh as f*ck, still don't take pictures, nah
Dawg, ain't shit change but my earrings a lil' bigger, yeah
Franklin, Grants and Jacksons stuffed in Mike Amiri denims, uh
Money talks, nigga, you see these diamonds in my dental, yuh
Glizzock, he's a lion, tiger, bear slash gorilla, yeah
Lord knows I'm a sinner but I still one blessed-ass nigga, yuh
Check my credentials, uh, yeah, bitch
I been sippin', sippin', they say I'm trippin' out, huh
I stuff them Benji's in my pants, it got me limpin' out, uh
All these damn blues, they thought I was Crippin' out, huh
I'm like "Who?" (Who?) "Who, nigga, who?" (Who?) "Who?" (Who?)
I got killers come through shoot you, you and you, you and you, too
And I don't want your bitch, I gave your boo the boot, nigga
Real spit, bitch, my wrist cost a, a coupe, nigga
Ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah
Ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah
Ooh, huh, who is this lil' dude? Yeah
Diamonds Audemars Piguet lightin' up the whole room, yuh
Never leave my tool, huh, bitch, I ain't no fool, uh
You know how I move, yuh, cutthroat and I'm cruel (cutthroat)
Nigga, yeah, ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah
Ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah
Ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah
Ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah
Ooh, yuh, play wit me you doomed
I give 'em clips quick like a movie coming soon, yeah
Glizzock got the bitch, got your bitch actin' a fool, yeah
Glizzock got your bitch actin' a fool at the room, yeah
Ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah
Ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah, yeah
Bitch, I'm smooth, uh, I'm one smooth lil' dude, uh
Only 22, richer than you and your whole crew, nigga
Call me Mr. Glock, I'm 'bout to take your ass to school, nigga
Show you how to move, nigga, we live by no rules, nigga
Ohh, uh, one to the two, yuh
Million dollars on me worth of jewels, keep me cool, nigga
Hoppin' out that big body, but it's still a coupe, nigga
Bitch, I got the juice, ah, you can call me two-Glock
Ooh, ooh, ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah (bitch I got the juice)
Ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah
You can call me two (two) Glock (Glock, yeah)
Yes, I got the juice, yuh, two, two, Glock, Glock
Bitch, I got the juice, yuh, yuh
Ooh, (uh) ooh, (uh) ooh, (uh), ooh, (uh)
Ooh, (uh) ooh, (uh) ooh, (uh), ooh, (uh) yeah
Ooh, (uh) ooh, (uh) ooh, (uh), ooh, (uh) yeah
Ooh, (uh) ooh, (uh) ooh, (uh), ooh, (yeah) yeah
Yeah, yeah
Bitch, I'm that nigga, uh, yuh
I be fresh as f*ck, still don't take pictures, nah
Dawg, ain't shit change but my earrings a lil' bigger, yeah
Franklin, Grants and Jacksons stuffed in Mike Amiri denims, uh
Money talks, nigga, you see these diamonds in my dental, yuh
Glizzock, he's a lion, tiger, bear slash gorilla, yeah
Lord knows I'm a sinner but I still one blessed-ass nigga, yuh
Check my credentials, uh, yeah, bitch
I been sippin', sippin', they say I'm trippin' out, huh
I stuff them Benji's in my pants, it got me limpin' out, uh
All these damn blues, they thought I was Crippin' out, huh
I'm like "Who?" (Who?) "Who, nigga, who?" (Who?) "Who?" (Who?)
I got killers come through shoot you, you and you, you and you, too
And I don't want your bitch, I gave your boo the boot, nigga
Real spit, bitch, my wrist cost a, a coupe, nigga
Ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah
Ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah
Ooh, huh, who is this lil' dude? Yeah
Diamonds Audemars Piguet lightin' up the whole room, yuh
Never leave my tool, huh, bitch, I ain't no fool, uh
You know how I move, yuh, cutthroat and I'm cruel (cutthroat)
Nigga, yeah, ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah
Ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah
Ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah
Ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah
Ooh, yuh, play wit me you doomed
I give 'em clips quick like a movie coming soon, yeah
Glizzock got the bitch, got your bitch actin' a fool, yeah
Glizzock got your bitch actin' a fool at the room, yeah
Ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah
Ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah, yeah
Bitch, I'm smooth, uh, I'm one smooth lil' dude, uh
Only 22, richer than you and your whole crew, nigga
Call me Mr. Glock, I'm 'bout to take your ass to school, nigga
Show you how to move, nigga, we live by no rules, nigga
Ohh, uh, one to the two, yuh
Million dollars on me worth of jewels, keep me cool, nigga
Hoppin' out that big body, but it's still a coupe, nigga
Bitch, I got the juice, ah, you can call me two-Glock
Ooh, ooh, ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah (bitch I got the juice)
Ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah, ooh, yeah
You can call me two (two) Glock (Glock, yeah)
Yes, I got the juice, yuh, two, two, Glock, Glock
Bitch, I got the juice, yuh, yuh
Ooh, (uh) ooh, (uh) ooh, (uh), ooh, (uh)
Ooh, (uh) ooh, (uh) ooh, (uh), ooh, (uh) yeah
Ooh, (uh) ooh, (uh) ooh, (uh), ooh, (uh) yeah
Ooh, (uh) ooh, (uh) ooh, (uh), ooh, (yeah) yeah
Writer: Markeyvius Cathey
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
What Goes Around Comes Around
(William)
(Let the band play) Ayy
Young nigga juiced up, uh
I'm Big Glock, these other niggas nothin' but some poo-putts (yeah)
Got a pocket full of blue stuff (yeah)
And my chain's on, 30 on my hip, who gon' do what? (What?)
Nigga, you gon' do what? (What?)
You ain't been did a nigga like me, you ain't gon' do nothin' (nah)
Nigga, you don't do nothin' (nah)
I got some day-ones ready, can't wait to shoot somethin' (yeah)
Ain't shit changed, but I just bought a new gun (uh)
I smoke a lot of dope, I need new lungs (uh)
Count a lot of money, shit, I'm tryna grow a new arm
Yeah, I'm tryna grow a new arm
Yeah, this watch right here cost two songs
And I just bought another one
Yeah, I told that bitch it's a one-on-one (bitch)
I told them robbers I ain't like none of y'all
Dead presidents in the trap, it's a haunted house (haunted)
I got zombies runnin' in and runnin' out
You know how I came in, bitch, that's how I'm goin' out
Yeah, got a thirty round on me right now
Pull up at your house like a plumber with them pipes out
(Pull up) Yeah, tell 'em pipe down
Flyin' in Muhammad Ali, bumblebee with your bitch (your bitch)
Yeah, I'm finna knock her lights out (lights out)
Uh, yeah, this money got my psyched out
(Why your name Glock for?) Yeah, find out
(Well, uh, can I be on the Paper Route?)
Nah, we ain't takin' applications right now, uh
On that bullshit like Chi-Town
Thirty-three, Pippen, extension get gunned down, yuh
If you ain't gettin' money, don't come 'round
Nigga, we hustle from sun up to sun down
From sun up to sun down, yeah, we get money now
Sun up to sun down, money comin' in and out
From sun up, sun down, money goin' round and 'round
Round and 'round, 'round and 'round, what goes around comes around
From sun up to sun down, yeah, we get money now
From sun up to sun down, money comin' in and out
Sun up to sun down, money goin' round and 'round
Round and 'round, 'round and 'round, what goes around comes around (ayy)
My granny told me what's done in the dark must come to light
I recorded every night, now I got hella ice (ice)
Yes, I'm blessed (I'm blessed), yeah, bitch, I'm blessed (yeah)
Flood my cross with ice, ain't no S (S) up on my chest (uh-uh)
Bitch, it's nothin' but ice (ice), my heart cold (cold)
Yeah, I came out the bottom, super-cocky on these hoes (hoes)
Yeah, three hundred racks up in my Louis bag, it's hard to close
Yeah, old money in the closet, that shit startin' to mold (mold)
Yo, I'm sippin' on some potion, movin' in slow motion
My neck is the sixth ocean (duh)
Double-cup, let's toast it, I'm flexin' on my old bitch
Ballin' on these hatin' ass niggas, they tryna goaltend
I let your bitch come eat the meat, she say she need some protein
They say money talk, you see my motherf*ckin' gold teeth?
All these niggas talkin', well, they gon' have to show me
I came from the bottom to the top, uh, and I brought my whole team
From sun up to sun down, yeah, we get money now
Sun up to sun down, money comin' in and out
From sun up, sun down, money goin' round and 'round
Round and 'round, 'round and 'round, what goes around comes around
From sun up to sun down, yeah, we get money now
From sun up to sun down, money comin' in and out
Sun up to sun down, money goin' round and 'round
Round and 'round, 'round and 'round, what goes around comes around
(Comes around, comes around)
(Let the band play) Ayy
Young nigga juiced up, uh
I'm Big Glock, these other niggas nothin' but some poo-putts (yeah)
Got a pocket full of blue stuff (yeah)
And my chain's on, 30 on my hip, who gon' do what? (What?)
Nigga, you gon' do what? (What?)
You ain't been did a nigga like me, you ain't gon' do nothin' (nah)
Nigga, you don't do nothin' (nah)
I got some day-ones ready, can't wait to shoot somethin' (yeah)
Ain't shit changed, but I just bought a new gun (uh)
I smoke a lot of dope, I need new lungs (uh)
Count a lot of money, shit, I'm tryna grow a new arm
Yeah, I'm tryna grow a new arm
Yeah, this watch right here cost two songs
And I just bought another one
Yeah, I told that bitch it's a one-on-one (bitch)
I told them robbers I ain't like none of y'all
Dead presidents in the trap, it's a haunted house (haunted)
I got zombies runnin' in and runnin' out
You know how I came in, bitch, that's how I'm goin' out
Yeah, got a thirty round on me right now
Pull up at your house like a plumber with them pipes out
(Pull up) Yeah, tell 'em pipe down
Flyin' in Muhammad Ali, bumblebee with your bitch (your bitch)
Yeah, I'm finna knock her lights out (lights out)
Uh, yeah, this money got my psyched out
(Why your name Glock for?) Yeah, find out
(Well, uh, can I be on the Paper Route?)
Nah, we ain't takin' applications right now, uh
On that bullshit like Chi-Town
Thirty-three, Pippen, extension get gunned down, yuh
If you ain't gettin' money, don't come 'round
Nigga, we hustle from sun up to sun down
From sun up to sun down, yeah, we get money now
Sun up to sun down, money comin' in and out
From sun up, sun down, money goin' round and 'round
Round and 'round, 'round and 'round, what goes around comes around
From sun up to sun down, yeah, we get money now
From sun up to sun down, money comin' in and out
Sun up to sun down, money goin' round and 'round
Round and 'round, 'round and 'round, what goes around comes around (ayy)
My granny told me what's done in the dark must come to light
I recorded every night, now I got hella ice (ice)
Yes, I'm blessed (I'm blessed), yeah, bitch, I'm blessed (yeah)
Flood my cross with ice, ain't no S (S) up on my chest (uh-uh)
Bitch, it's nothin' but ice (ice), my heart cold (cold)
Yeah, I came out the bottom, super-cocky on these hoes (hoes)
Yeah, three hundred racks up in my Louis bag, it's hard to close
Yeah, old money in the closet, that shit startin' to mold (mold)
Yo, I'm sippin' on some potion, movin' in slow motion
My neck is the sixth ocean (duh)
Double-cup, let's toast it, I'm flexin' on my old bitch
Ballin' on these hatin' ass niggas, they tryna goaltend
I let your bitch come eat the meat, she say she need some protein
They say money talk, you see my motherf*ckin' gold teeth?
All these niggas talkin', well, they gon' have to show me
I came from the bottom to the top, uh, and I brought my whole team
From sun up to sun down, yeah, we get money now
Sun up to sun down, money comin' in and out
From sun up, sun down, money goin' round and 'round
Round and 'round, 'round and 'round, what goes around comes around
From sun up to sun down, yeah, we get money now
From sun up to sun down, money comin' in and out
Sun up to sun down, money goin' round and 'round
Round and 'round, 'round and 'round, what goes around comes around
(Comes around, comes around)
Writer: Markeyvius Cathey
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Crash
Shit, the f*ck?
Mm, ayy (808 Mafia)
I'm tryna not to crash out
I done f*cked around and brought the MAC out
Nigga, I ain't playing you better back down
Before I blow your back out (yeah)
Yeah, I live what I rap 'bout, uh (bitch)
Nah, nigga I don't rap battle (uh-uh)
Yeah, I just hit the opps block and made them niggas scatter, yeah
I just hit a hot thot and got her right up out of there
Gotta get back to the spot then get back to them dollars, yeah
Gotta get back to the spot then get back to them dollars, yeah
Yeah, uh
Yeah, yeah, yeah, uh
Yeah, yeah, yeah, uh
Yeah, yeah, yeah, uh, uh, uh (yeah)
Yeah, I gotta get this dough, get it 'til I'm gray and old (uh)
Rain, sleet, or snow, I just gotta get some more (get some more)
Rain, sleet, or snow, I just gotta get some more (I just gotta get some more)
Rain, sleet, or snow, I just gotta get some more (yeah, I gotta get some more)
Yeah, I'm flexing all the time these hoes say I do the most
Bitch I was born to shine, I'm just doing what I'm supposed
My auntie always told me everything glitter ain't gold
And that's another reason I do not trust a soul
Yeah, lately I've been getting too high, trying not to explode
Yeah, trying not to crash, trying not to let it go
Yeah, you get rich they get mad, that's just how the way it goes
Damn, I thought you was my bro, how you let this shit turn cold?
Uh, yeah, yeah, uh
Yeah, yeah, yeah, uh
Yeah, yeah, yeah, uh
Uh, uh (ayy)
I'm tryna not to crash out
I done f*cked around and brought the MAC out
Nigga, I ain't playing you better back down
Before I blow your back out (yeah)
Yeah, I live what I rap 'bout, uh (bitch)
Nah, nigga I don't rap battle (uh)
Yeah, I just hit the opps block and made them niggas scatter, yeah
I just hit a hot thot and got her right up out of there
Gotta get back to the spot then get back to them dollars, yeah
Gotta get back to the spot then get back to them dollars, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, uh
Yeah, yeah, yeah, uh
Yeah, yeah, yeah, uh, uh, uh (yeah)
Mm, ayy (808 Mafia)
I'm tryna not to crash out
I done f*cked around and brought the MAC out
Nigga, I ain't playing you better back down
Before I blow your back out (yeah)
Yeah, I live what I rap 'bout, uh (bitch)
Nah, nigga I don't rap battle (uh-uh)
Yeah, I just hit the opps block and made them niggas scatter, yeah
I just hit a hot thot and got her right up out of there
Gotta get back to the spot then get back to them dollars, yeah
Gotta get back to the spot then get back to them dollars, yeah
Yeah, uh
Yeah, yeah, yeah, uh
Yeah, yeah, yeah, uh
Yeah, yeah, yeah, uh, uh, uh (yeah)
Yeah, I gotta get this dough, get it 'til I'm gray and old (uh)
Rain, sleet, or snow, I just gotta get some more (get some more)
Rain, sleet, or snow, I just gotta get some more (I just gotta get some more)
Rain, sleet, or snow, I just gotta get some more (yeah, I gotta get some more)
Yeah, I'm flexing all the time these hoes say I do the most
Bitch I was born to shine, I'm just doing what I'm supposed
My auntie always told me everything glitter ain't gold
And that's another reason I do not trust a soul
Yeah, lately I've been getting too high, trying not to explode
Yeah, trying not to crash, trying not to let it go
Yeah, you get rich they get mad, that's just how the way it goes
Damn, I thought you was my bro, how you let this shit turn cold?
Uh, yeah, yeah, uh
Yeah, yeah, yeah, uh
Yeah, yeah, yeah, uh
Uh, uh (ayy)
I'm tryna not to crash out
I done f*cked around and brought the MAC out
Nigga, I ain't playing you better back down
Before I blow your back out (yeah)
Yeah, I live what I rap 'bout, uh (bitch)
Nah, nigga I don't rap battle (uh)
Yeah, I just hit the opps block and made them niggas scatter, yeah
I just hit a hot thot and got her right up out of there
Gotta get back to the spot then get back to them dollars, yeah
Gotta get back to the spot then get back to them dollars, yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, uh
Yeah, yeah, yeah, uh
Yeah, yeah, yeah, uh, uh, uh (yeah)
Writer: Joshua Luellen, Markeyvuis Cathey
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., EMPIRE PUBLISHING, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., EMPIRE PUBLISHING, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Look At They Face
(Band)
(Let the Bandplay)
Ayy
Yeah, I heard them niggas hating 'cause I'm up now (what?)
I've been makin' plays all day, I touchdown (yeah)
I remember them days I used to pray for a buss down (yeah)
Now look at they face, look at they face, yeah they all hush now
Yeah, I heard them niggas hating 'cause I'm up now
I've been makin' plays all day, I touchdown (yeah)
I remember them days I used to pray for a buss down (yeah)
Now look at they face, look at they face, yeah they all hush now, uh
I ain't worried 'bout no beef 'cause I'ma cash cow (racks)
Nigga ain't worried 'bout no leaks 'cause I'ma cash out (yes)
Bitches all up in my suite, walkin' 'round with they ass out (yes)
I can show no love, you can't get no handshake, hug, or dap
No cap, but yeah, uh (what)
I'm a caterpillar, uh, yeah (nigga)
That's for real, uh (nigga)
Yeah I told her take this dick then I take her to dinner, yeah (yeah)
Yeah, I was born in August but cold as December (cold)
I just might bring back Sprinters, uh, yeah (whoa)
Two straps on me, suspenders, pinnin' my hoe in the Sprinter, yeah (on God)
Glizzock came with nothin' but killers, get shot, slide by ten (on God)
These niggas marshmallow tissue, I'm concrete, gorilla, yeah (on God)
Get it then double it, triple it, quadruple flip it, uh-uh (yeah)
Yeah, back back if you ain't got that bread, uh-uh (back back)
I get mad cash, please don't make me mad, uh-uh (make me mad)
Bitches at the pad, runin' playin' tag, uh-huh
Glizzock havin' cash, diamonds hittin' on flash, yeah, uh (yeah)
Yeah, back back if you ain't got that bread, uh-uh
I get mad cash, please don't make me mad, uh-uh
Bitches at the pad, runin' playin' tag, uh-huh
Glizzock havin' cash, diamonds hittin' on flash, yeah, uh
Yeah, I heard them niggas hating 'cause I'm up now (what?)
I've been makin' plays all day, I touchdown (yeah)
I remember them days I used to pray for a buss down (yeah)
Now look at they face, look at they face, yeah they all hush now
Yeah, I heard them niggas hating 'cause I'm up now
I've been makin' plays all day, I touchdown (yeah)
I remember them days I used to pray for a buss down (yeah)
Now look at they face, look at they face, yeah they all hush now, uh
Shh (ayy)
Be quiet (bitch)
Your life is a disguise (bitch)
You rap ain't nothin' but lies, yeah (yeah)
Bitch I been that nigga, I been that nigga since I was five
And you see it in my eyes, might see blood when I cry
Yeah, I cross my heart, I swear to God, these niggas ain't my kind, yeah
Ten toes down, play I put you in the sky
Not a killer but don't push me, bitch I'm humble, I'm not shy
This money got me traumatized, I just wanna know why, yeah
Yeah, I heard them niggas hating 'cause I'm up now (what?)
I've been makin' plays all day, I touchdown (yeah)
I remember them days I used to pray for a buss down (yeah)
Now look at they face, look at they face, yeah they all hush now
Yeah, I heard them niggas hating 'cause I'm up now
I've been makin' plays all day, I touchdown (yeah)
I remember them days I used to pray for a buss down (yeah)
Now look at they face, look at they face, yeah they all hush now, uh, yeah
(Let the Bandplay)
Ayy
Yeah, I heard them niggas hating 'cause I'm up now (what?)
I've been makin' plays all day, I touchdown (yeah)
I remember them days I used to pray for a buss down (yeah)
Now look at they face, look at they face, yeah they all hush now
Yeah, I heard them niggas hating 'cause I'm up now
I've been makin' plays all day, I touchdown (yeah)
I remember them days I used to pray for a buss down (yeah)
Now look at they face, look at they face, yeah they all hush now, uh
I ain't worried 'bout no beef 'cause I'ma cash cow (racks)
Nigga ain't worried 'bout no leaks 'cause I'ma cash out (yes)
Bitches all up in my suite, walkin' 'round with they ass out (yes)
I can show no love, you can't get no handshake, hug, or dap
No cap, but yeah, uh (what)
I'm a caterpillar, uh, yeah (nigga)
That's for real, uh (nigga)
Yeah I told her take this dick then I take her to dinner, yeah (yeah)
Yeah, I was born in August but cold as December (cold)
I just might bring back Sprinters, uh, yeah (whoa)
Two straps on me, suspenders, pinnin' my hoe in the Sprinter, yeah (on God)
Glizzock came with nothin' but killers, get shot, slide by ten (on God)
These niggas marshmallow tissue, I'm concrete, gorilla, yeah (on God)
Get it then double it, triple it, quadruple flip it, uh-uh (yeah)
Yeah, back back if you ain't got that bread, uh-uh (back back)
I get mad cash, please don't make me mad, uh-uh (make me mad)
Bitches at the pad, runin' playin' tag, uh-huh
Glizzock havin' cash, diamonds hittin' on flash, yeah, uh (yeah)
Yeah, back back if you ain't got that bread, uh-uh
I get mad cash, please don't make me mad, uh-uh
Bitches at the pad, runin' playin' tag, uh-huh
Glizzock havin' cash, diamonds hittin' on flash, yeah, uh
Yeah, I heard them niggas hating 'cause I'm up now (what?)
I've been makin' plays all day, I touchdown (yeah)
I remember them days I used to pray for a buss down (yeah)
Now look at they face, look at they face, yeah they all hush now
Yeah, I heard them niggas hating 'cause I'm up now
I've been makin' plays all day, I touchdown (yeah)
I remember them days I used to pray for a buss down (yeah)
Now look at they face, look at they face, yeah they all hush now, uh
Shh (ayy)
Be quiet (bitch)
Your life is a disguise (bitch)
You rap ain't nothin' but lies, yeah (yeah)
Bitch I been that nigga, I been that nigga since I was five
And you see it in my eyes, might see blood when I cry
Yeah, I cross my heart, I swear to God, these niggas ain't my kind, yeah
Ten toes down, play I put you in the sky
Not a killer but don't push me, bitch I'm humble, I'm not shy
This money got me traumatized, I just wanna know why, yeah
Yeah, I heard them niggas hating 'cause I'm up now (what?)
I've been makin' plays all day, I touchdown (yeah)
I remember them days I used to pray for a buss down (yeah)
Now look at they face, look at they face, yeah they all hush now
Yeah, I heard them niggas hating 'cause I'm up now
I've been makin' plays all day, I touchdown (yeah)
I remember them days I used to pray for a buss down (yeah)
Now look at they face, look at they face, yeah they all hush now, uh, yeah
Writer: Markeyvius Cathey
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., EMPIRE PUBLISHING
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., EMPIRE PUBLISHING
Im Just Sayin
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah, Glizzock
Yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, Glizzock
Ayy, yeah
Yeah (yeah)
Yeah
You dig?
Alright, alright, alright
Yeah, yeah
Ayy
I'm just sayin', uh
I don't know why these pussy niggas playin'
I got bands, yeah (pussy)
Make me put them bands on your mans
I'm just sayin', uh
Gettin' to the cash every day like it's my last, um (yeah)
Ridin' in some' fast on my way to get a bag, yeah, yeah (skrrt, skrrt, skrrt)
Or a bad bitch, uh (yeah)
Bitch, I'm mad rich, yeah (bitch)
I got mad sticks, uh, yeah (yeah)
I was in the street before this rap shit, huh, yeah
All these industry rappers be on cap shit, uh, but (rap cap)
Alright, alright, alright, alright, uh (okay)
Big pipe, four-five, your life is gone tonight, ah
No lie, stay fly, get high as a kizz-ite (high)
Roll dice, gamble with life, that's like every night (yeah)
I'm a big boss, baby, and my jewelry game crazy (boss)
I been buyin' baguettes lately (yeah), it's attractin' all the ladies (yeah)
Damn, I got these niggas shady, but that shit do not phase me (uh-uh)
They can keep on hatin' (yeah), I'ma keep on paper chasin' (yeah, uh, yeah)
Yuh, (uh, uh, uh, yeah, yeah)
You mad, too bad, you sad I got big racks, huh (racks)
Big racks, you sad, too bad, you mad, uh (yeah)
Toe tag, we blast, no cap, nigga, and you know that, huh
I'm just sayin', uh
I don't know why these pussy niggas playin'
I got bands, yeah (racks)
Make me put them bands on your mans
I'm just sayin', uh
Gettin' to the cash every day like it's my last, uh (baby)
Ridin' in some' fast on my way to get a bag, yeah, yeah (skrrt)
Or a bad bitch, uh (yeah)
Bitch, I'm mad rich, yeah (bitch)
I got mad sticks, uh, yeah (bah)
I was in the street before this rap shit, huh, yeah
All these industry rappers be on cap shit, uh, but (rap cap)
Glock a different breed, they don't bleed how I bleed, yeah
Ice up in my veins, diamonds all up on my sleeve, yeah
Baguettes in my teeth, you ain't seen no shit like these, yeah
You know how I do it, bitch, it's only one of me (Key Glock, yeah)
Yeah, yeah, Glizzock
Yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, Glizzock
Ayy, yeah
Yeah (yeah)
Yeah
You dig?
Alright, alright, alright
Yeah, yeah
Ayy
I'm just sayin', uh
I don't know why these pussy niggas playin'
I got bands, yeah (pussy)
Make me put them bands on your mans
I'm just sayin', uh
Gettin' to the cash every day like it's my last, um (yeah)
Ridin' in some' fast on my way to get a bag, yeah, yeah (skrrt, skrrt, skrrt)
Or a bad bitch, uh (yeah)
Bitch, I'm mad rich, yeah (bitch)
I got mad sticks, uh, yeah (yeah)
I was in the street before this rap shit, huh, yeah
All these industry rappers be on cap shit, uh, but (rap cap)
Alright, alright, alright, alright, uh (okay)
Big pipe, four-five, your life is gone tonight, ah
No lie, stay fly, get high as a kizz-ite (high)
Roll dice, gamble with life, that's like every night (yeah)
I'm a big boss, baby, and my jewelry game crazy (boss)
I been buyin' baguettes lately (yeah), it's attractin' all the ladies (yeah)
Damn, I got these niggas shady, but that shit do not phase me (uh-uh)
They can keep on hatin' (yeah), I'ma keep on paper chasin' (yeah, uh, yeah)
Yuh, (uh, uh, uh, yeah, yeah)
You mad, too bad, you sad I got big racks, huh (racks)
Big racks, you sad, too bad, you mad, uh (yeah)
Toe tag, we blast, no cap, nigga, and you know that, huh
I'm just sayin', uh
I don't know why these pussy niggas playin'
I got bands, yeah (racks)
Make me put them bands on your mans
I'm just sayin', uh
Gettin' to the cash every day like it's my last, uh (baby)
Ridin' in some' fast on my way to get a bag, yeah, yeah (skrrt)
Or a bad bitch, uh (yeah)
Bitch, I'm mad rich, yeah (bitch)
I got mad sticks, uh, yeah (bah)
I was in the street before this rap shit, huh, yeah
All these industry rappers be on cap shit, uh, but (rap cap)
Glock a different breed, they don't bleed how I bleed, yeah
Ice up in my veins, diamonds all up on my sleeve, yeah
Baguettes in my teeth, you ain't seen no shit like these, yeah
You know how I do it, bitch, it's only one of me (Key Glock, yeah)
Writer: Markeyvius Cathey
Copyright: Lyrics © Songtrust Ave
Copyright: Lyrics © Songtrust Ave
Biig Boyy!
Yeah
Uh, big boy shit (big boy shit), yeah (yeah)
Brand new Richard Millie, big boy wrist (big boy wrist), yeah
I been gettin' it, gettin' it, gettin' it in, (gettin' it in), yeah
Gettin' in and out the Cullinan (skrrt)
Bitch, I'm not like them, nah, dawg, I set trends (I set trends)
Bitch, I just went places 'cause I can (yeah, yeah, yeah)
Bitch, another day, another dollar bill (yeah, yeah, yeah)
Bitch, I keep on buyin' ice, ain't got no chill, uh
Baguette Richard Mill', yeah, sick, uh, ill, yeah
Bitch, I ball for real, yeah, for real, I got skills, yeah
Mil' after mil', bitch, I'm ill, that's for real, yeah
This a double R, but I got F's on my wheel, uh
Nigga, f*ck your deal, I made your deal in a year, uh
Cold-hearted for real, all this ice over here, yeah
McLaren hard to steer, please, Jesus, grab the wheel
Ain't no skeleton in my closet, it's up on my arm, you dig? Uh
I don't f*ck with rats or snakes, niggas or pigs, uh
Nigga, I got straps on straps, nigga you dig? Uh
And I'm gettin' them racks on racks, nigga, you dig? Uh
And them nuthin' but facts on facts, nigga, you dig? (Yeah)
Uh, big boy shit (big boy shit), yeah (yeah)
Brand new Richard Millie, big boy wrist (big boy wrist), yeah
I been gettin' it, gettin' it, gettin' it in, (gettin' it in), yeah
Gettin' in and out the Cullinan, yeah
I was born to win ever since the beginning, yeah
I was makin' money I wasn't tryna make no friends, yeah
Self-made lil' nigga, yeah, I had to get it in, uh
Mama was locked up and granny really didn't have shit, nah
Me and pops didn't get along, but rest in peace to him, yeah
I ain't have no father figure, nigga, I had figures, yeah
I'm a King Leo, nigga, might name my son Simba, uh
I remember makin' wishes, now everyday Christmas, yeah, yeah
Uh (yeah), big boy shit (big boy shit), yeah (yeah)
Brand new Richard Millie, big boy wrist (big boy wrist), yeah
I been gettin' it, gettin' it, gettin' it in, (gettin' it in), yeah
Gettin' in and out that Cullinan (skrrt)
Bitch, I'm not like them, nah, dawg, I set trends (yeah, I did that)
Bitch, I just went places 'cause I can (yeah, yeah, yeah)
Bitch, another day, another dollar bill (yeah, yeah, yeah)
Bitch, I keep on buyin' ice, ain't got no chill, uh (yeah, yeah)
Uh, big boy shit (big boy shit), yeah (yeah)
Brand new Richard Millie, big boy wrist (big boy wrist), yeah
I been gettin' it, gettin' it, gettin' it in, (gettin' it in), yeah
Gettin' in and out the Cullinan (skrrt)
Bitch, I'm not like them, nah, dawg, I set trends (I set trends)
Bitch, I just went places 'cause I can (yeah, yeah, yeah)
Bitch, another day, another dollar bill (yeah, yeah, yeah)
Bitch, I keep on buyin' ice, ain't got no chill, uh
Baguette Richard Mill', yeah, sick, uh, ill, yeah
Bitch, I ball for real, yeah, for real, I got skills, yeah
Mil' after mil', bitch, I'm ill, that's for real, yeah
This a double R, but I got F's on my wheel, uh
Nigga, f*ck your deal, I made your deal in a year, uh
Cold-hearted for real, all this ice over here, yeah
McLaren hard to steer, please, Jesus, grab the wheel
Ain't no skeleton in my closet, it's up on my arm, you dig? Uh
I don't f*ck with rats or snakes, niggas or pigs, uh
Nigga, I got straps on straps, nigga you dig? Uh
And I'm gettin' them racks on racks, nigga, you dig? Uh
And them nuthin' but facts on facts, nigga, you dig? (Yeah)
Uh, big boy shit (big boy shit), yeah (yeah)
Brand new Richard Millie, big boy wrist (big boy wrist), yeah
I been gettin' it, gettin' it, gettin' it in, (gettin' it in), yeah
Gettin' in and out the Cullinan, yeah
I was born to win ever since the beginning, yeah
I was makin' money I wasn't tryna make no friends, yeah
Self-made lil' nigga, yeah, I had to get it in, uh
Mama was locked up and granny really didn't have shit, nah
Me and pops didn't get along, but rest in peace to him, yeah
I ain't have no father figure, nigga, I had figures, yeah
I'm a King Leo, nigga, might name my son Simba, uh
I remember makin' wishes, now everyday Christmas, yeah, yeah
Uh (yeah), big boy shit (big boy shit), yeah (yeah)
Brand new Richard Millie, big boy wrist (big boy wrist), yeah
I been gettin' it, gettin' it, gettin' it in, (gettin' it in), yeah
Gettin' in and out that Cullinan (skrrt)
Bitch, I'm not like them, nah, dawg, I set trends (yeah, I did that)
Bitch, I just went places 'cause I can (yeah, yeah, yeah)
Bitch, another day, another dollar bill (yeah, yeah, yeah)
Bitch, I keep on buyin' ice, ain't got no chill, uh (yeah, yeah)
Writer: Markeyvius Cathey
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Flyest Highest Coolest Smoothest
Glizzock
(RamyOnTheBeat)
Big Glock
Ayy, y'all know I'm the flyest, highest, coolest, smoothest young nigga doin' this shit, right?
Yeah
Same lil' nigga, big pistol, in the field blow like a whistle
Dope dealer, go-getter, boy, you just a broke nigga (fact)
Finger on the trigger, shine your head with the four nickel, uh
Money gettin' bigger, diamonds blizzard, make you shiver
Very, very cold, uh, my hands is gettin' froze, yeah
And my pockets swole (racks), uh, very, very swole, yeah (racks)
Bitch, I got that 'low (bitch), yeah, everybody know, uh
Bankrolls over hoes, yeah, put that on my soul, yeah
I put that on my soul (my soul), or I put that on my bro (my bro)
Never, ever let a nigga or a ho come between my dough, uh
Stack it, flip it, get it, get it, nigga, get some more, uh (I got it)
Smokin', do-si-do, God damn, bought the whole Dolce store, whoa (the f*ck?)
Blowin' out the boat, foreigns and my condo, yeah
Bad yellow ho and her ass jumbo
They call me commando and I speak fast, Rondo
Need my cash pronto, white ho fast, coco, yeah
Bad lil' bitch, don't need no trash ass bitch, hold up
Bad, bad bitch, yeah, I got racks racks, bitch, yeah
Real fast ass whip, I got a fast ass whip (nyoom)
12 get behind me, I'ma dip, baby, dip, yeah
Same lil' nigga, big pistol, in the field blow like a whistle
Dope dealer, go-getter, boy, you just a broke nigga
Finger on the trigger, shine your head with the four nickel, uh
Money gettin' bigger, diamonds blizzard, make you shiver
Very, very cold, uh, my hands is gettin' froze, yeah
And my pockets swole (racks), uh, very, very swole, yeah
Bitch, I got the 'low (got it), yeah, everybody know, uh (bitch)
Bankrolls over hoes (bitch), yeah, put that on my soul, uh
Yeah, yeah, Forgis pigeon-toed, yeah
Yeah, gang ridin' camo, huh
Yeah, the whole gang gon' go, huh
Yeah, nigga your whole gang hoes, uh
Hot like a stove, uh, I keep the pole, yeah
Sippin' yellow, rockin' white and rose gold
Got the pipe, in my show
Yeah, that's right, keep it close
Can't get left, I won't go (go, uh-uh)
(RamyOnTheBeat)
Big Glock
Ayy, y'all know I'm the flyest, highest, coolest, smoothest young nigga doin' this shit, right?
Yeah
Same lil' nigga, big pistol, in the field blow like a whistle
Dope dealer, go-getter, boy, you just a broke nigga (fact)
Finger on the trigger, shine your head with the four nickel, uh
Money gettin' bigger, diamonds blizzard, make you shiver
Very, very cold, uh, my hands is gettin' froze, yeah
And my pockets swole (racks), uh, very, very swole, yeah (racks)
Bitch, I got that 'low (bitch), yeah, everybody know, uh
Bankrolls over hoes, yeah, put that on my soul, yeah
I put that on my soul (my soul), or I put that on my bro (my bro)
Never, ever let a nigga or a ho come between my dough, uh
Stack it, flip it, get it, get it, nigga, get some more, uh (I got it)
Smokin', do-si-do, God damn, bought the whole Dolce store, whoa (the f*ck?)
Blowin' out the boat, foreigns and my condo, yeah
Bad yellow ho and her ass jumbo
They call me commando and I speak fast, Rondo
Need my cash pronto, white ho fast, coco, yeah
Bad lil' bitch, don't need no trash ass bitch, hold up
Bad, bad bitch, yeah, I got racks racks, bitch, yeah
Real fast ass whip, I got a fast ass whip (nyoom)
12 get behind me, I'ma dip, baby, dip, yeah
Same lil' nigga, big pistol, in the field blow like a whistle
Dope dealer, go-getter, boy, you just a broke nigga
Finger on the trigger, shine your head with the four nickel, uh
Money gettin' bigger, diamonds blizzard, make you shiver
Very, very cold, uh, my hands is gettin' froze, yeah
And my pockets swole (racks), uh, very, very swole, yeah
Bitch, I got the 'low (got it), yeah, everybody know, uh (bitch)
Bankrolls over hoes (bitch), yeah, put that on my soul, uh
Yeah, yeah, Forgis pigeon-toed, yeah
Yeah, gang ridin' camo, huh
Yeah, the whole gang gon' go, huh
Yeah, nigga your whole gang hoes, uh
Hot like a stove, uh, I keep the pole, yeah
Sippin' yellow, rockin' white and rose gold
Got the pipe, in my show
Yeah, that's right, keep it close
Can't get left, I won't go (go, uh-uh)
Writer: Markeyvius Cathey, Ramiro Morales
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Loaded
Yeah
(Woah, Kenny!)
Ayy
What's up doc? Ayy, I got carats (what's up)
Diamonds in my wrist jump around like a rabbit
Catch me out in traffic with them choppas I'm a savage
Chillin' with a baddie now my ex bitch jealous
Yeah, flexing so hard now her friends say I'm petty
Uh, everybody know that I'm a bad bitch bandit
Yeah, I be fly as f*ck ain't no tellin' when I'm landin'
Yeah this shit getting epic and my wrist on Atlantic
Ocean, foreign whip coasting, sipping potion, moving slow motion
Got me like, "Oh shit" might start dozing
Wrist start hurting, put ice on my Rollie
Racks not folding, pants get swollen
My rose froze, spent twenty on emoji
Drop like soldiers, bitch you know it
Bank accounts and my guns loaded (yeah)
Smoke a lot of weed like I grow it
I got old money, ain't moldy, yeah
Jewelry game get a bitch cozy, oh
So so smooth no lotion, yeah
Ride around town with a toaster, uh
Yeah bitch I'ma pop up for the bread
Lil' nigga you do the mostest, yuh
That's what this dumb bitch just said
F*cked on the floor made her fall off the bed
Ayy before you go, can I get some more head?
Ayy, kicked out the door, and I hopped in my Benz
Then I do it again but this time with her friend
Yeah, break her back like I'm Shaq at the rim
Yeah, I told that bitch I'm the creme de la creme
Yeah, I told that bitch that I'm the best that there is
Yeah, I told that bitch that she knows what it is
I spent a million on ice just to chill
Got some more water, might buy some gills
Yeah they be like this lil' nigga is ill
Yeah they be like this lil' nigga for real
Uh, off the porch straight to the field
Yeah, I'm rich and still ride with my steel
Yeah, I put crystal balls on my ears
Uh, I'm balling hard, bitch, I got skills
Ayy
What's up doc? Ayy, I got carats (what's up)
Diamonds in my wrist jump around like a rabbit
Catch me out in traffic with them choppas I'm a savage
Chillin' with a baddie now my ex bitch jealous
Yeah, flexing so hard now her friends say I'm petty
Uh, everybody know that I'm a bad bitch bandit
Yeah, I be fly as f*ck ain't no tellin' when I'm landin'
Yeah this shit getting epic and my wrist on Atlantic
Ocean, foreign whip coasting, sipping potion, moving slow motion
Got me like, "Oh shit" might start dozing
Wrist start hurting, put ice on my Rollie
Racks not folding, pants get swollen
My rose froze, spent twenty on emoji
Drop like soldiers, bitch you know it
Bank accounts and my guns loaded (yeah) yeah
(Woah, Kenny!)
Ayy
What's up doc? Ayy, I got carats (what's up)
Diamonds in my wrist jump around like a rabbit
Catch me out in traffic with them choppas I'm a savage
Chillin' with a baddie now my ex bitch jealous
Yeah, flexing so hard now her friends say I'm petty
Uh, everybody know that I'm a bad bitch bandit
Yeah, I be fly as f*ck ain't no tellin' when I'm landin'
Yeah this shit getting epic and my wrist on Atlantic
Ocean, foreign whip coasting, sipping potion, moving slow motion
Got me like, "Oh shit" might start dozing
Wrist start hurting, put ice on my Rollie
Racks not folding, pants get swollen
My rose froze, spent twenty on emoji
Drop like soldiers, bitch you know it
Bank accounts and my guns loaded (yeah)
Smoke a lot of weed like I grow it
I got old money, ain't moldy, yeah
Jewelry game get a bitch cozy, oh
So so smooth no lotion, yeah
Ride around town with a toaster, uh
Yeah bitch I'ma pop up for the bread
Lil' nigga you do the mostest, yuh
That's what this dumb bitch just said
F*cked on the floor made her fall off the bed
Ayy before you go, can I get some more head?
Ayy, kicked out the door, and I hopped in my Benz
Then I do it again but this time with her friend
Yeah, break her back like I'm Shaq at the rim
Yeah, I told that bitch I'm the creme de la creme
Yeah, I told that bitch that I'm the best that there is
Yeah, I told that bitch that she knows what it is
I spent a million on ice just to chill
Got some more water, might buy some gills
Yeah they be like this lil' nigga is ill
Yeah they be like this lil' nigga for real
Uh, off the porch straight to the field
Yeah, I'm rich and still ride with my steel
Yeah, I put crystal balls on my ears
Uh, I'm balling hard, bitch, I got skills
Ayy
What's up doc? Ayy, I got carats (what's up)
Diamonds in my wrist jump around like a rabbit
Catch me out in traffic with them choppas I'm a savage
Chillin' with a baddie now my ex bitch jealous
Yeah, flexing so hard now her friends say I'm petty
Uh, everybody know that I'm a bad bitch bandit
Yeah, I be fly as f*ck ain't no tellin' when I'm landin'
Yeah this shit getting epic and my wrist on Atlantic
Ocean, foreign whip coasting, sipping potion, moving slow motion
Got me like, "Oh shit" might start dozing
Wrist start hurting, put ice on my Rollie
Racks not folding, pants get swollen
My rose froze, spent twenty on emoji
Drop like soldiers, bitch you know it
Bank accounts and my guns loaded (yeah) yeah
Writer: Markeyvius Cathey
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Fuck All Dat
Let the band play
I dunno (huh?)
Okay, f*ck all that (f*ck that shit)
Yuh, bitch, uh, I been gettin' cash (gettin' cash, nigga), bitch, yuh, uh
Racks on racks on racks (I'm talkin' 'bout racks on racks), racks, yuh, huh
Big racks, I need my cake like a fat bitch
Got baguettes in my Richard Mille, bitch, I'm that rich
Yuh, I just cracked another seal, bitch, I'm that sick
Yuh, I been hustlin' for real, now I'm that nigga
Yuh, I been hustlin' for real, now I'm that nigga
Yuh, yuh, ayy, I'm nothin' like these rap niggas (nah)
Nah, I mean I'm nothing like these rap niggas
And that's a fact, nigga, yeah, I'm that nigga (Key Glock)
Can't get no dap nigga, but you can get clapped, nigga (fire)
Yeah, my niggas gon' ride or die (pew)
I brought the silence out, yeah, my aim on ninety-nine (huh)
I bet I gun 'em down (yeah), bitch, we slangin' iron, uh (slangin')
Yeah, we slangin' iron, just like it's the wild wild west
Yes (yes), yes, bitch, yes, uh, this right here
Like a quarter on my chest, yuh, why I do that?
'Cause I'ma make that shit right back, duh (duh, duh)
Duh (stupid), I'ma make that shit right back (on God, bitch)
F*ck all that (f*ck that shit)
Yuh, bitch, uh, I been gettin' cash (gettin' cash, nigga), bitch, yuh, uh
Racks on racks on racks (I'm talkin' 'bout racks on racks), racks, yuh, huh
Big racks, I need my cake like a fat bitch
Yuh, uh, Franklins, Grants and Jacksons
Yuh (yeah), bitch, that's another backend, uh (that's another backend)
Yuh, a big backend (big backend)
I just pulled up on your bitch, I broke her back in (nigga)
Yeah, you shoulda seen how I made her back bend (yuh, nigga)
And, yeah, I see why you love her, that bitch nasty (huh)
The type of bitch to put a front on like she classy (bitch)
Yeah, she belongs to the streets, that bitch trashy (trashy, trashy)
Yuh, niggas sneak dissin', tell 'em at me
Yuh, I'm the same young nigga from them backstreets (on God)
Ridin' 'round with them thangs on the back seat (on God)
Ain't shit changed, mane, huh, I still pack heat (ain't shit changed, mane)
But, uh, f*ck all that (f*ck all that shit)
Yuh, bitch, uh, I been gettin' cash (gettin' cash, nigga), bitch, yuh, uh
Racks on racks on racks (I'm talkin' 'bout racks on racks), racks, yuh, huh
Big racks, I need my cake like a fat bitch
Got baguettes in my Richard Mille, bitch, I'm that rich
Yuh, I just cracked another seal, bitch, I'm that sick
Yuh, I been hustlin' for real, now I'm that nigga
Yuh, I been hustlin' for real, now I'm that nigga
Yuh (yuh, yuh)
Big Glock
I dunno (huh?)
Okay, f*ck all that (f*ck that shit)
Yuh, bitch, uh, I been gettin' cash (gettin' cash, nigga), bitch, yuh, uh
Racks on racks on racks (I'm talkin' 'bout racks on racks), racks, yuh, huh
Big racks, I need my cake like a fat bitch
Got baguettes in my Richard Mille, bitch, I'm that rich
Yuh, I just cracked another seal, bitch, I'm that sick
Yuh, I been hustlin' for real, now I'm that nigga
Yuh, I been hustlin' for real, now I'm that nigga
Yuh, yuh, ayy, I'm nothin' like these rap niggas (nah)
Nah, I mean I'm nothing like these rap niggas
And that's a fact, nigga, yeah, I'm that nigga (Key Glock)
Can't get no dap nigga, but you can get clapped, nigga (fire)
Yeah, my niggas gon' ride or die (pew)
I brought the silence out, yeah, my aim on ninety-nine (huh)
I bet I gun 'em down (yeah), bitch, we slangin' iron, uh (slangin')
Yeah, we slangin' iron, just like it's the wild wild west
Yes (yes), yes, bitch, yes, uh, this right here
Like a quarter on my chest, yuh, why I do that?
'Cause I'ma make that shit right back, duh (duh, duh)
Duh (stupid), I'ma make that shit right back (on God, bitch)
F*ck all that (f*ck that shit)
Yuh, bitch, uh, I been gettin' cash (gettin' cash, nigga), bitch, yuh, uh
Racks on racks on racks (I'm talkin' 'bout racks on racks), racks, yuh, huh
Big racks, I need my cake like a fat bitch
Yuh, uh, Franklins, Grants and Jacksons
Yuh (yeah), bitch, that's another backend, uh (that's another backend)
Yuh, a big backend (big backend)
I just pulled up on your bitch, I broke her back in (nigga)
Yeah, you shoulda seen how I made her back bend (yuh, nigga)
And, yeah, I see why you love her, that bitch nasty (huh)
The type of bitch to put a front on like she classy (bitch)
Yeah, she belongs to the streets, that bitch trashy (trashy, trashy)
Yuh, niggas sneak dissin', tell 'em at me
Yuh, I'm the same young nigga from them backstreets (on God)
Ridin' 'round with them thangs on the back seat (on God)
Ain't shit changed, mane, huh, I still pack heat (ain't shit changed, mane)
But, uh, f*ck all that (f*ck all that shit)
Yuh, bitch, uh, I been gettin' cash (gettin' cash, nigga), bitch, yuh, uh
Racks on racks on racks (I'm talkin' 'bout racks on racks), racks, yuh, huh
Big racks, I need my cake like a fat bitch
Got baguettes in my Richard Mille, bitch, I'm that rich
Yuh, I just cracked another seal, bitch, I'm that sick
Yuh, I been hustlin' for real, now I'm that nigga
Yuh, I been hustlin' for real, now I'm that nigga
Yuh (yuh, yuh)
Big Glock
Writer: Markeyvius Cathey
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Mr. Glock
They got me f*cked up
Ayy I'm right back on they ass, yeah
They done made me mad, uh
I been keeping calm
Constantly keep making cash, yeah
I been getting bag, after bag, after bag, yeah
Presidential shit, I ride my Maybach matte black, yeah
Call me Mr. Glock, shooters in the front and back, yeah
Yeah I'm on my Memphis shit
These bitches coming in a pack, uh
These niggas pussy cat, straight cap, cat in the hat, yeah
Baby I'm a player and my daddy was a Mack, yeah, huh, yeah
And that's a motherf*cking fact
Never leave the house without my motherf*cking strap
I was fourteen years old with that motherf*cking sack
I don't f*ck with none of these rappers, they know that
Ayy I'm right back on they ass, yeah
They done made me mad, uh
I been keeping calm
Constantly keep making cash, yeah
I been getting bag, after bag, after bag, yeah
Presidential shit, I ride my Maybach matte black, yeah
Call me Mr. Glock, shooters in the front and back, yeah
Yeah I'm on my Memphis shit
These bitches coming in a pack, uh
These niggas pussy cat, straight cap, cat in hat, yeah
Baby I'm a player and my daddy was a Mack, yeah
Smoking mack with my unc', he call it Thrax, uh
Yeah I was thirteen sneaking, geeking, drinking Actavis
A couple niggas play with us
We turned that ass to dust
Don't let them gas you up
Heart cold, no mask or gloves, nigga, uh
Hit yo ass up with some slugs
I run with hustlers and thugs
I got this shit out the mud, nigga
Ayy who want smoke? I got bud
Strapped in the church and the club
What the f*ck you niggas thought this was?
Ayy I'm right back on they ass, yeah
They done made me mad, uh
I been keeping calm
Constantly keep making cash, yeah
I been getting bag, after bag, after bag, yeah
Presidential shit, I ride my Maybach matte black, yeah
Call me Mr. Glock, shooters in the front and back, yeah
Yeah I'm on my Memphis shit
These bitches coming in a pack, uh
These niggas pussy cat, straight cap, cat in the hat, yeah
Baby I'm a player and my daddy was a Mack
I love you Mr. Glock!
I love-I love you too
Ayy I'm right back on they ass, yeah
They done made me mad, uh
I been keeping calm
Constantly keep making cash, yeah
I been getting bag, after bag, after bag, yeah
Presidential shit, I ride my Maybach matte black, yeah
Call me Mr. Glock, shooters in the front and back, yeah
Yeah I'm on my Memphis shit
These bitches coming in a pack, uh
These niggas pussy cat, straight cap, cat in the hat, yeah
Baby I'm a player and my daddy was a Mack, yeah, huh, yeah
And that's a motherf*cking fact
Never leave the house without my motherf*cking strap
I was fourteen years old with that motherf*cking sack
I don't f*ck with none of these rappers, they know that
Ayy I'm right back on they ass, yeah
They done made me mad, uh
I been keeping calm
Constantly keep making cash, yeah
I been getting bag, after bag, after bag, yeah
Presidential shit, I ride my Maybach matte black, yeah
Call me Mr. Glock, shooters in the front and back, yeah
Yeah I'm on my Memphis shit
These bitches coming in a pack, uh
These niggas pussy cat, straight cap, cat in hat, yeah
Baby I'm a player and my daddy was a Mack, yeah
Smoking mack with my unc', he call it Thrax, uh
Yeah I was thirteen sneaking, geeking, drinking Actavis
A couple niggas play with us
We turned that ass to dust
Don't let them gas you up
Heart cold, no mask or gloves, nigga, uh
Hit yo ass up with some slugs
I run with hustlers and thugs
I got this shit out the mud, nigga
Ayy who want smoke? I got bud
Strapped in the church and the club
What the f*ck you niggas thought this was?
Ayy I'm right back on they ass, yeah
They done made me mad, uh
I been keeping calm
Constantly keep making cash, yeah
I been getting bag, after bag, after bag, yeah
Presidential shit, I ride my Maybach matte black, yeah
Call me Mr. Glock, shooters in the front and back, yeah
Yeah I'm on my Memphis shit
These bitches coming in a pack, uh
These niggas pussy cat, straight cap, cat in the hat, yeah
Baby I'm a player and my daddy was a Mack
I love you Mr. Glock!
I love-I love you too
Writer: Markeyvius Cathey
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Amen
(Kill)
Ayy
Woke up this morning, said my prayers to the Lord (amen)
I thank him 'cause he ain't make me like none of these lil' boys, yuh (amen)
Twenty-two collectin' cars, I still call 'em toys, yuh
I been makin' money, these niggas ain't makin' no noise, yuh (nah)
I ball out, of course, my new chain cost a Porsche, uh (bling)
Hustlin' is a sport, money hungry, where my fork? Uh (grr)
Dead fresh, walkin' corpse (fresh), make your wife ask for divorce, uh
Don't come at me, boy, I'll burn you like a s'more, uh (yeah, yeah)
Rolled back to my hood, rollin' dope in my Rolls (Royce)
And my AMG sound raggedy, grandma like, "What's that noise?", yuh
Try me, it's a tragedy, turn your block to a morgue, uh (yeah)
King shit, I'm your majesty (yeah), I rock a lots of gold (Glizzock, yeah, yeah)
Got six watches, but two of 'em cost a quarter, nigga (oh my God)
Yeah, I ran them racks up, now they feelin' like I owe 'em, nigga, yuh
Ain't tryna hear shit so I fill my earlobes up with boulders, nigga, yuh
South Memphis nigga, jewelry cold, Minnesota, nigga, yuh
Yeah, I'm bumpin' Three 6, pourin' sizzurp in my soda, nigga
Paper Route the gang (gang), we some cutthroat soldiers, nigga
Yellow everythang, be cautious when your approach a nigga
(Be cautious, nigga) (Yeah, yeah, yeah) Ayy
Woke up this morning, said my prayers to the Lord (amen)
I thank him 'cause he ain't make me like none of these lil' boys, yuh (amen)
Twenty-two collectin' cars, I still call 'em toys, yuh (skrrt-skrrt)
I been makin' money, these niggas ain't makin' no noise, yuh (nah, dawg)
Woke up this morning, said my prayers to the lord
I thank him 'cause he ain't make me like none of these lil' boys, yuh
Twenty-two collectin' cars, I still call 'em toys, yuh
I been makin' money, these niggas ain't makin' no noise, yuh
I ball out, of course, my new chain cost a Porsche, uh (bling)
Hustlin' is a sport, money hungry, where my fork? Uh (grr)
Dead fresh, walkin' corpse (fresh), make your wife ask for divorce, uh
Don't come at me, boy, I'll burn you like a s'more, uh (yeah, yeah)
Get your ass burnt, nigga (burnt, nigga)
Yeah, get your ass burnt, nigga (burnt, nigga, fire, yeah)
I put in a lot of work, nigga (I did), yeah, yeah
Yeah, this shit here out the dirt, nigga (the dirt, the mud, yeah)
Yeah, all my niggas on alert, uh
If you play, you lay, yeah, homie, don't get hurt, uh
I just made a play, I'm about to buy another vert, yeah
Young nigga paid, baby girl, you know my worth (ayy)
Woke up this morning, said my prayers to the Lord (amen)
I thank him 'cause he ain't make me like none of these lil' boys, yuh (amen)
Twenty-two collectin' cars, I still call 'em toys, yuh (skrrt)
I been makin' money, these niggas ain't makin' no noise, yuh (hell nah)
I ball out, of course, my new chain cost a Porsche, uh
Hustlin' is a sport, money hungry, where my fork? Uh
Dead fresh, walkin' corpse, make your wife ask for divorce, uh
Don't come at me, boy, I'll burn you like a s'more, uh
Ayy
Woke up this morning, said my prayers to the Lord (amen)
I thank him 'cause he ain't make me like none of these lil' boys, yuh (amen)
Twenty-two collectin' cars, I still call 'em toys, yuh
I been makin' money, these niggas ain't makin' no noise, yuh (nah)
I ball out, of course, my new chain cost a Porsche, uh (bling)
Hustlin' is a sport, money hungry, where my fork? Uh (grr)
Dead fresh, walkin' corpse (fresh), make your wife ask for divorce, uh
Don't come at me, boy, I'll burn you like a s'more, uh (yeah, yeah)
Rolled back to my hood, rollin' dope in my Rolls (Royce)
And my AMG sound raggedy, grandma like, "What's that noise?", yuh
Try me, it's a tragedy, turn your block to a morgue, uh (yeah)
King shit, I'm your majesty (yeah), I rock a lots of gold (Glizzock, yeah, yeah)
Got six watches, but two of 'em cost a quarter, nigga (oh my God)
Yeah, I ran them racks up, now they feelin' like I owe 'em, nigga, yuh
Ain't tryna hear shit so I fill my earlobes up with boulders, nigga, yuh
South Memphis nigga, jewelry cold, Minnesota, nigga, yuh
Yeah, I'm bumpin' Three 6, pourin' sizzurp in my soda, nigga
Paper Route the gang (gang), we some cutthroat soldiers, nigga
Yellow everythang, be cautious when your approach a nigga
(Be cautious, nigga) (Yeah, yeah, yeah) Ayy
Woke up this morning, said my prayers to the Lord (amen)
I thank him 'cause he ain't make me like none of these lil' boys, yuh (amen)
Twenty-two collectin' cars, I still call 'em toys, yuh (skrrt-skrrt)
I been makin' money, these niggas ain't makin' no noise, yuh (nah, dawg)
Woke up this morning, said my prayers to the lord
I thank him 'cause he ain't make me like none of these lil' boys, yuh
Twenty-two collectin' cars, I still call 'em toys, yuh
I been makin' money, these niggas ain't makin' no noise, yuh
I ball out, of course, my new chain cost a Porsche, uh (bling)
Hustlin' is a sport, money hungry, where my fork? Uh (grr)
Dead fresh, walkin' corpse (fresh), make your wife ask for divorce, uh
Don't come at me, boy, I'll burn you like a s'more, uh (yeah, yeah)
Get your ass burnt, nigga (burnt, nigga)
Yeah, get your ass burnt, nigga (burnt, nigga, fire, yeah)
I put in a lot of work, nigga (I did), yeah, yeah
Yeah, this shit here out the dirt, nigga (the dirt, the mud, yeah)
Yeah, all my niggas on alert, uh
If you play, you lay, yeah, homie, don't get hurt, uh
I just made a play, I'm about to buy another vert, yeah
Young nigga paid, baby girl, you know my worth (ayy)
Woke up this morning, said my prayers to the Lord (amen)
I thank him 'cause he ain't make me like none of these lil' boys, yuh (amen)
Twenty-two collectin' cars, I still call 'em toys, yuh (skrrt)
I been makin' money, these niggas ain't makin' no noise, yuh (hell nah)
I ball out, of course, my new chain cost a Porsche, uh
Hustlin' is a sport, money hungry, where my fork? Uh
Dead fresh, walkin' corpse, make your wife ask for divorce, uh
Don't come at me, boy, I'll burn you like a s'more, uh
Writer: Markeyvius Cathey
Copyright: Lyrics © Songtrust Ave
Copyright: Lyrics © Songtrust Ave
Stop Playin
(Let the band play)
Yuh (yuh), bitch (bitch), stop playin' (stop playin')
Uh (uh), bitch, I been the man, lil' nigga, big bands (big bands)
Yuh (yuh), yuh, I know you see it pokin' up out my pants (big racks)
Yuh (yuh), you can't stand me, I'll leave you where you stand, nigga (yeah)
Yeah, guns on deck, nigga, uh
2020 'Vette, how the f*ck you get that, nigga? (Huh?)
I got 20/20 vision, all I see is checks, nigga (cha-ching)
Yeah, I'm cutthroat for real, it's tatted on my neck, nigga (for real)
I been bumpin' Nip, ain't nothin' like these rap niggas, uh (uh-uh)
I'll let my dog get ya, I feel like Max, nigga, uh (grr)
I'll bring the pain, I'm major, mane, yeah, facts, nigga (facts), uh
Uh, yeah, huh, yeah, facts, nigga (facts), uh
Hold up, hold up, hold up, matter fact, nigga (hold up)
Yeah, I think I'ma bring yellow diamonds back, nigga (yeah), uh
New rose gold set, yeah, wet, nigga, uh
Just to match my cars, Glock, you a mess, nigga (uh)
Yeah, I'm a mess, I'm a threat, bitch, what do you expect? Uh
When you came from nothin' and you ran up a check, yeah (uh)
Bitch, I'm Big Glock (Big Glock), yeah, nothin' less, yeah
Bitch, I'm a shark in water, yeah, and on land (land)
Yuh, bitch (Bitch), stop playin' (stop playin')
Uh (uh), bitch, I been the man, lil' nigga, big bands (big bands)
Yuh (yuh), yuh, I know you see it pokin' up out my pants (big racks)
Yuh (yuh), you can't stand me, I'll leave you where you stand, nigga (yeah)
Yeah, guns on deck, nigga, uh
2020 'Vette, how the f*ck you get that, nigga? (Huh?)
I got 20/20 vision, all I see is checks, nigga (cha-ching)
Yeah, I'm cutthroat for real, it's tatted on my neck, nigga (for real) uh, yeah
Cutthroat (cutthroat), uh (uh), okay (okay), let's do it (let's do it)
(Do it, do it, do it), yeah, let's get it (let's get it), get to it
Yeah, I'm dope like I grew it, uh, money grew on trees, I knew it, yeah
I knew it, huh
Because I get a lot, call me Mister or Doctor Glock, pop
There goes the weasel (pop, pop), yeah, bitch, ya top, uh
I just popped the top on the pint, dropped it in my pop, yuh
I be sippin' sizzurp in my drop top, uh
Yuh (yuh), in the booth, too
Uh (yeah), if you had this much shit, nigga, what would you do? (Huh?)
Huh? (Huh) Yuh, gang goin' crazy, whole gang cuckoo (gang, gang, gang)
Yeah, young black nigga with a whole lotta blues
Just sayin', you better (2hat?) stop playin' (nigga), uh (what?)
Bitch, I been the man, lil' nigga, big bands (big bands)
Yuh (yuh), yuh, I know you see it pokin' up out my pants (big racks)
Yuh (yuh), you can't stand me, I'll leave you where you stand, nigga (yeah)
Yeah, guns on deck, nigga, uh
2020 'Vette, how the f*ck you get that, nigga? (Huh?)
I got 20/20 vision, all I see is checks, nigga (cha-ching)
Yeah, I'm cutthroat for real, it's tatted on my neck, nigga, uh, yeah
Yuh (yuh), bitch (bitch), stop playin' (stop playin')
Uh (uh), bitch, I been the man, lil' nigga, big bands (big bands)
Yuh (yuh), yuh, I know you see it pokin' up out my pants (big racks)
Yuh (yuh), you can't stand me, I'll leave you where you stand, nigga (yeah)
Yeah, guns on deck, nigga, uh
2020 'Vette, how the f*ck you get that, nigga? (Huh?)
I got 20/20 vision, all I see is checks, nigga (cha-ching)
Yeah, I'm cutthroat for real, it's tatted on my neck, nigga (for real)
I been bumpin' Nip, ain't nothin' like these rap niggas, uh (uh-uh)
I'll let my dog get ya, I feel like Max, nigga, uh (grr)
I'll bring the pain, I'm major, mane, yeah, facts, nigga (facts), uh
Uh, yeah, huh, yeah, facts, nigga (facts), uh
Hold up, hold up, hold up, matter fact, nigga (hold up)
Yeah, I think I'ma bring yellow diamonds back, nigga (yeah), uh
New rose gold set, yeah, wet, nigga, uh
Just to match my cars, Glock, you a mess, nigga (uh)
Yeah, I'm a mess, I'm a threat, bitch, what do you expect? Uh
When you came from nothin' and you ran up a check, yeah (uh)
Bitch, I'm Big Glock (Big Glock), yeah, nothin' less, yeah
Bitch, I'm a shark in water, yeah, and on land (land)
Yuh, bitch (Bitch), stop playin' (stop playin')
Uh (uh), bitch, I been the man, lil' nigga, big bands (big bands)
Yuh (yuh), yuh, I know you see it pokin' up out my pants (big racks)
Yuh (yuh), you can't stand me, I'll leave you where you stand, nigga (yeah)
Yeah, guns on deck, nigga, uh
2020 'Vette, how the f*ck you get that, nigga? (Huh?)
I got 20/20 vision, all I see is checks, nigga (cha-ching)
Yeah, I'm cutthroat for real, it's tatted on my neck, nigga (for real) uh, yeah
Cutthroat (cutthroat), uh (uh), okay (okay), let's do it (let's do it)
(Do it, do it, do it), yeah, let's get it (let's get it), get to it
Yeah, I'm dope like I grew it, uh, money grew on trees, I knew it, yeah
I knew it, huh
Because I get a lot, call me Mister or Doctor Glock, pop
There goes the weasel (pop, pop), yeah, bitch, ya top, uh
I just popped the top on the pint, dropped it in my pop, yuh
I be sippin' sizzurp in my drop top, uh
Yuh (yuh), in the booth, too
Uh (yeah), if you had this much shit, nigga, what would you do? (Huh?)
Huh? (Huh) Yuh, gang goin' crazy, whole gang cuckoo (gang, gang, gang)
Yeah, young black nigga with a whole lotta blues
Just sayin', you better (2hat?) stop playin' (nigga), uh (what?)
Bitch, I been the man, lil' nigga, big bands (big bands)
Yuh (yuh), yuh, I know you see it pokin' up out my pants (big racks)
Yuh (yuh), you can't stand me, I'll leave you where you stand, nigga (yeah)
Yeah, guns on deck, nigga, uh
2020 'Vette, how the f*ck you get that, nigga? (Huh?)
I got 20/20 vision, all I see is checks, nigga (cha-ching)
Yeah, I'm cutthroat for real, it's tatted on my neck, nigga, uh, yeah
Writer: Markeyvius Cathey
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
1 of 1
Glizzock
Big Glock, yeah (yeah)
(Ceeo, turn that beat up)
I was raised by my grandma, young nigga was bad as hell
Know my mama wanna rap 'cause she did 15 years in jail (on God)
Used to walk up in the class, the teacher askin', "What's that smell?" (Swear)
Then she looked me in my eyes and tell me (what?) "Boy you high as hell" (I know)
Well, I can't help myself, baby, you know I'm a player (you know)
Baby, you know real is rare (you know), you can't get this everywhere (no)
Lord, forgive me, I be sinning, every night I say my prayer (yeah)
I go ign'ant with the semi, I'ma shoot 'til nothing left
I caught my first charge then I went on the run (yeah)
Caught my first body, then named me after a gun (Glizzock)
Bought my first chopper, then I went, threw in a drum, yeah
Lil' bitch, I'm a don, I'm my mama's only son, one of one (yeah, Glizzock)
It ain't nothing but killas and hustlers from where I'm from (gang)
I just stack my commas, remain humble and don't crumble (yeah)
These young niggas muggin' and they clutchin' if you mumble (yeah)
Thuggin', hotter than a summer (hot)
Got a trey-eight, I was in the eighth grade (yeah)
Nigga tried to play, I tried to take off his fade (yeah, yeah)
I didn't play no games, I cut the checks like spade
Yeah, money what I crave, bitch, I'm eating everyday
Let the chopper kick, yeah, yeah, karate, uh
Pull up with the stick, clap, clap, like a raid, yeah
You know I'ma hit, yeah, yeah, I got aim
All these extended clips, yeah, yeah, I got flame
F*ck the fame, I won't change for no changes, got some chains
And my rings look like rain, shit, I could have bought a Range
And my wrist hurricane, I work a bitch like a maid (yeah)
Everyday gettin' paid until I'm up in a grave (yeah)
I count my first hundred K and I was so amazed (whole hundred K)
I had no time to play, yeah, I had plays on plays (plays on plays)
I was servin' J's in my J's, get my cake (my cake)
Yeah, I went to school late 'cause I kept that grade A
Okay (okay), I was on a roll everyday to the bank (okay), yuh
Ain't no limit to this shit, I might go buy a tank, yuh
Pull up smoking Mary Jane, pocket full of Franks, yuh
You niggas too damn lame, I do what you can't, yuh
Gang shit, bang, yuh, thirty clip, hang yuh
Flame like K, yuh, wrist, neck, rain, yuh
Umbrella Wraith, yuh, Rollie Day-Date, yuh
Put it in your face, yuh (yuh, yuh, yuh, yuh)
Bitch tried to play me I was like, "No way"
You get up in my way and it'll be a cold case
I shot my first opp with a revolver, no trace, yeah
Until this very day, I hit my knees and still pray (yeah)
Big Glock, yeah (yeah)
(Ceeo, turn that beat up)
I was raised by my grandma, young nigga was bad as hell
Know my mama wanna rap 'cause she did 15 years in jail (on God)
Used to walk up in the class, the teacher askin', "What's that smell?" (Swear)
Then she looked me in my eyes and tell me (what?) "Boy you high as hell" (I know)
Well, I can't help myself, baby, you know I'm a player (you know)
Baby, you know real is rare (you know), you can't get this everywhere (no)
Lord, forgive me, I be sinning, every night I say my prayer (yeah)
I go ign'ant with the semi, I'ma shoot 'til nothing left
I caught my first charge then I went on the run (yeah)
Caught my first body, then named me after a gun (Glizzock)
Bought my first chopper, then I went, threw in a drum, yeah
Lil' bitch, I'm a don, I'm my mama's only son, one of one (yeah, Glizzock)
It ain't nothing but killas and hustlers from where I'm from (gang)
I just stack my commas, remain humble and don't crumble (yeah)
These young niggas muggin' and they clutchin' if you mumble (yeah)
Thuggin', hotter than a summer (hot)
Got a trey-eight, I was in the eighth grade (yeah)
Nigga tried to play, I tried to take off his fade (yeah, yeah)
I didn't play no games, I cut the checks like spade
Yeah, money what I crave, bitch, I'm eating everyday
Let the chopper kick, yeah, yeah, karate, uh
Pull up with the stick, clap, clap, like a raid, yeah
You know I'ma hit, yeah, yeah, I got aim
All these extended clips, yeah, yeah, I got flame
F*ck the fame, I won't change for no changes, got some chains
And my rings look like rain, shit, I could have bought a Range
And my wrist hurricane, I work a bitch like a maid (yeah)
Everyday gettin' paid until I'm up in a grave (yeah)
I count my first hundred K and I was so amazed (whole hundred K)
I had no time to play, yeah, I had plays on plays (plays on plays)
I was servin' J's in my J's, get my cake (my cake)
Yeah, I went to school late 'cause I kept that grade A
Okay (okay), I was on a roll everyday to the bank (okay), yuh
Ain't no limit to this shit, I might go buy a tank, yuh
Pull up smoking Mary Jane, pocket full of Franks, yuh
You niggas too damn lame, I do what you can't, yuh
Gang shit, bang, yuh, thirty clip, hang yuh
Flame like K, yuh, wrist, neck, rain, yuh
Umbrella Wraith, yuh, Rollie Day-Date, yuh
Put it in your face, yuh (yuh, yuh, yuh, yuh)
Bitch tried to play me I was like, "No way"
You get up in my way and it'll be a cold case
I shot my first opp with a revolver, no trace, yeah
Until this very day, I hit my knees and still pray (yeah)
Writer: Markeyvius Cathey
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Yellow Tape is the debut studio album by American rapper Key Glock from Memphis, Tennessee. It was released on January 31, 2020, through Paper Route Empire. Production was handled by Bandplay, LDG Beats and Sledgren among others.
The album peaked at number 14 on the Billboard 200 in the United States.
Performed By:
Key GlockThe album peaked at number 14 on the Billboard 200 in the United States.
Genre(s): Hip hop
Producer(s): BandPlay, Kenny Beats, Kill, King Ceeo, LDG Beats, Little Island, RamyOnTheBeat, Sledgren, Southside, Will-A-Fool
Length: 45:35
Released: January 31st, 2020
Year: 2020