For The G's (feat. Blu & MED) Video (MV)
NappyHIGH - For The G's (feat. Blu & MED) Lyrics
Uh, yeah, check it, this one is for the G's For niggas twistin' trees into leaves
Into me The B-L-U-N-O-E, hold please
OG, since I was a show T Show me your titties and I give you a show
T cnd won't leave this city till you give me
My faux G's So rock the spot for fifteen and get props
Kids stop me on the street and say Could you be my daddy?
I'm sayin' hell no kiddo Better follow love the caddy
Keep your children out the alley Miss Sally, shit is tacky
Soon as you turn your back, bitch, I'm goin' back to Cali
I know you know my addy still don't show up to my house
Tryna front like you walkin' round with gold up in your mouth
You a stunt, I should hit you like a blunt cnd blow you out like endo smoke
I'm rock him no joke, the four-four I hold Blow holes through your chest, prove your test correct
Blew the next best in the West, back
Yeah, I told Mappy, can't maneuver Watch me maneuver, more moves smoother than Luther
Van Draws, who got the draws before you introduced her
Been a player back for Cuban good and had a junior
My babysitter's work for free was gettin' head Watchin' Punky Booster
Used to skip school to move, grew the bags Returned in a Jag, prove I was still in class
Luxury dreams, pendant pads Scratchin' mass, it's grand, rappin' in streams
Playlist for the lean Pullin' in your wear, bassy blow up with the top off
Know it's the weed, but I ain't missin' the beef I got heat, homie, speakin' in Pelletra streets
Only you're Mo' Joni, baby boy, that beef get ravioli
Wrap him up, master ceremony KRS with Scott, back him up
I was dreamin' stages holds an acuras Got enough, now my vernacular's sharp
For the finest things, I play them out Like strings on a harp, this what I dream for
Money more just peace of mind than watch my seat grow
Funny when you wore a Paytas on D-Low O-Os, you already know, nigga, this sucks
Ballin' nigga, you so bad They call him boss, they call him boss
Ballin' nigga
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If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
Uh, yeah, check it, this one is for the G's For niggas twistin' trees into leaves
Into me The B-L-U-N-O-E, hold please
OG, since I was a show T Show me your titties and I give you a show
T cnd won't leave this city till you give me
My faux G's So rock the spot for fifteen and get props
Kids stop me on the street and say Could you be my daddy?
I'm sayin' hell no kiddo Better follow love the caddy
Keep your children out the alley Miss Sally, shit is tacky
Soon as you turn your back, bitch, I'm goin' back to Cali
I know you know my addy still don't show up to my house
Tryna front like you walkin' round with gold up in your mouth
You a stunt, I should hit you like a blunt cnd blow you out like endo smoke
I'm rock him no joke, the four-four I hold Blow holes through your chest, prove your test correct
Blew the next best in the West, back
Yeah, I told Mappy, can't maneuver Watch me maneuver, more moves smoother than Luther
Van Draws, who got the draws before you introduced her
Been a player back for Cuban good and had a junior
My babysitter's work for free was gettin' head Watchin' Punky Booster
Used to skip school to move, grew the bags Returned in a Jag, prove I was still in class
Luxury dreams, pendant pads Scratchin' mass, it's grand, rappin' in streams
Playlist for the lean Pullin' in your wear, bassy blow up with the top off
Know it's the weed, but I ain't missin' the beef I got heat, homie, speakin' in Pelletra streets
Only you're Mo' Joni, baby boy, that beef get ravioli
Wrap him up, master ceremony KRS with Scott, back him up
I was dreamin' stages holds an acuras Got enough, now my vernacular's sharp
For the finest things, I play them out Like strings on a harp, this what I dream for
Money more just peace of mind than watch my seat grow
Funny when you wore a Paytas on D-Low O-Os, you already know, nigga, this sucks
Ballin' nigga, you so bad They call him boss, they call him boss
Ballin' nigga
Into me The B-L-U-N-O-E, hold please
OG, since I was a show T Show me your titties and I give you a show
T cnd won't leave this city till you give me
My faux G's So rock the spot for fifteen and get props
Kids stop me on the street and say Could you be my daddy?
I'm sayin' hell no kiddo Better follow love the caddy
Keep your children out the alley Miss Sally, shit is tacky
Soon as you turn your back, bitch, I'm goin' back to Cali
I know you know my addy still don't show up to my house
Tryna front like you walkin' round with gold up in your mouth
You a stunt, I should hit you like a blunt cnd blow you out like endo smoke
I'm rock him no joke, the four-four I hold Blow holes through your chest, prove your test correct
Blew the next best in the West, back
Yeah, I told Mappy, can't maneuver Watch me maneuver, more moves smoother than Luther
Van Draws, who got the draws before you introduced her
Been a player back for Cuban good and had a junior
My babysitter's work for free was gettin' head Watchin' Punky Booster
Used to skip school to move, grew the bags Returned in a Jag, prove I was still in class
Luxury dreams, pendant pads Scratchin' mass, it's grand, rappin' in streams
Playlist for the lean Pullin' in your wear, bassy blow up with the top off
Know it's the weed, but I ain't missin' the beef I got heat, homie, speakin' in Pelletra streets
Only you're Mo' Joni, baby boy, that beef get ravioli
Wrap him up, master ceremony KRS with Scott, back him up
I was dreamin' stages holds an acuras Got enough, now my vernacular's sharp
For the finest things, I play them out Like strings on a harp, this what I dream for
Money more just peace of mind than watch my seat grow
Funny when you wore a Paytas on D-Low O-Os, you already know, nigga, this sucks
Ballin' nigga, you so bad They call him boss, they call him boss
Ballin' nigga
Writer: NappyHIGH
Copyright: Lyrics © KILLPHONIC
Copyright: Lyrics © KILLPHONIC