Young Dolph - Dum and Dummer Lyrics
Ill
Let the band play
Ay, I'm one ill ass lil' nigga and I don't know no one iller
Yeah, I ran up my figures, I made them f*ck niggas bitter
I hang with killers and dealers, you niggas nothin' but pretenders
Yeah, my bank account got bigger and this shit still getting realer
Ay, what's up, flipper? (what's up?)
Let me holler at these folks, Glock
(What we on?)
On some UGK shit right now, boy, ain't nobody triller (nobody)
Put your faith in the preacher, I put my faith in my vacuum sealer (hey)
Crack the seal on a new pint, mix it up like a bartender (pour up)
God made me a street nigga, in the trap, I'm the bishop (yeah)
Born with drugs in my system (yeah)
I got too much charisma (yeah)
Pull up at the trap to get some gas
Man, I need a fill up (strong)
Grandma said, "Boy, you ain't got no friends"
And I still remember (f*ck 'em all)
Every time she see me, she wanna slide down my pole (pole)
Every week I'm in the jewelry store buyin' some more (ice)
VVS's dancing around my throat (throat), woah (woah)
I told her just keep on sucking it until she choke, she said, "Oh" (oh)
Go, go, go, go, go, go, go (go)
'Til you can't no more
Bitch, I'ma get this dough until a nigga get it gone
I rock a lot of gold and I'll rock you with that chrome (yeah)
I just rocked the show and now I'm finna rock your hoe
Tell me have you seen the G.O.A.T. ridin' the coupe and smokin' dope?
Ask your bitch, I bet she know who that pullin' up in that two door
Yeah, Glizzock, that's for sure, hold up, that young nigga cold
I'm so cold, I'll have your nose running, bitch, I been road running
I got new and old money, bitch, I got loads of it
I'm hotter than four ovens, bitch, you niggas so buggin' (bitch)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah (bitch)
You niggas so buggin'
We on some UGK shit right now, boy, ain't nobody triller (nobody)
Put your faith in the preacher, I put my faith in my vacuum sealer (hey)
Crack the seal on a new pint, mix it up like a bartender (pour up)
God made me a street nigga, in the trap, I'm the bishop (yeah)
We on some Three 6 shit right now, bitch, I'm a real sizzurp sipper
You put your trust up in that bitch and don't even trust your nigga
We blowin' dope straight out the bowl, we smoking hard like a chimney
Yeah, bitch, I know you remember, I'm still one ill ass lil' nigga
I wake up and take my meds because I'm ill (ill)
I pump weight in the traphouse, not the gym (the gym)
I ain't never had no patience, I need my money pronto (now)
Got more cars than I can drive but feel like I want one more (just one more)
Got this lil' white bitch with supersized titties like CoCo (yeah, yeah)
Nigga, I pour lean in my iced tea (dirty, dirty)
Whole lot of ice on my white tee (yeah, yeah)
Don't none of you monkey hoes excite me (bitch, please)
Diamond chains and some gangster Nikes
Yeah, I f*cked your wifey twice, B (damn)
She said she never seen a nigga like me (it's Dolph)
Baby boy, quit cryin' to these hoes like Tyrese (cry baby)
Me and my niggas so close, yeah, we like Siamese (twins)
I stanked up the whole neighborhood with some loud trees (woo)
Old lady next door talkin' 'bout, "Turn that down please" (ues, ma'am)
Bitches love my blue teeth, they be like, "Can you smile, please" (hahaha)
Writer: Adolph Thornton, Krishon Gaines, Markeyvuis Cathey
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Songtrust Ave, EMPIRE PUBLISHING
If I Ever
Bandplay
If I ever told you I love you, I love you
If I ever told you f*ck you, it's f*ck you
I mean that, uh
My watch beefin' with my chain and I'm the instigator (who hittin' the hardest?)
I keep goin' up, yeah, I put my bread on the escalator (it's up, bitch)
I come through in a drop top waving at my white neighbors (yeah, yeah)
Can't believe we on TV now, remember we didn't have cable (woo)
I'm sorry, lil' bitch, I don't do favors (hah, uh-uh)
Big boy crib, it came with some acres (uh, uh)
Stay 'way from haters, that shit is contagious (yeah, yeah)
Free all of my niggas out of all of them cages, hey
If I ever told you f*ck you, it's f*ck you for life (f*ck you)
She been bitching all day, she just want some pipe (damn)
If I ever told you I love you, I love you for life (for real, though)
I just jumped up out that foreign with that thing on my side (ay)
Rari' pass by, everybody lookin' (watchin')
Six niggas in the house but ain't nobody cookin' (yeah, yeah)
Fell out with my goons, they say I'm gettin' soft (why you say that?)
Just because I wouldn't let 'em murk the opps (woo)
Put 'em in a box (uh)
Quarter ticket the watch (Richard)
My pockets, they poking out (knots)
Ouch (ah)
Ouch, that's what she say when I hit from the back
Got on all of my chains and I'm all in her stomach (it's Dolph)
4 AM in the morning, I'm up counting money (yeah)
If I ever told you f*ck you, it's f*ck you for life (f*ck you)
She been bitching all day, she just want some pipe (damn)
If I ever told you I love you, I love you for life (for real, though)
I just jumped up out that foreign with that thing on my side (ay)
Diamonds on my neck and wrist fighting, domestic violence, uh (yeah)
Whole gang going crazy, still major, you niggas minor,
And I'm getting too much paper, I might just early retire
Yeah, this young nigga lit, I might just start a wildfire, yeah
I'm a live wire and I'm sparking if you try me, yeah
Tell 'em settle down before you niggas start dying (uh)
Don't make me up my nine, best believe it's goin' down (yeah)
Bullets start flyin', couple opps no longer 'round, yeah
I told you a hundred times that I tote a hundred rounds, yeah
I been runnin' wild with my dog straight out the pound, yeah
Bitch, I got the crown, play with me, they take you out, yeah (Glizzock)
I mean everything I say, you know I'm talkin' 'bout, bitch
If I ever told you f*ck you, it's f*ck you for life (f*ck you)
She been bitching all day, she just want some pipe (damn)
If I ever told you I love you, I love you for life (for real, though)
I just jumped up out that foreign with that thing on my side (Ayy)
If I ever told you f*ck you, it's f*ck you for life, uh
She been bitching all day, she just want some pipe, uh (bitch)
If I ever told you I love you, I love you for life (yeah)
I just jumped up out that foreign with that thing on my side (with that)
Just jumped out with my fire
Writer: Adolph Thornton, Krishon Gaines, Markeyvuis Cathey
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Songtrust Ave, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
1 Hell of a Life
Band, Band
Yeah, yeah
Yeah, uh, yeah, uh, yeah, yeah
Let the band play
Yeah, bitch, I paid the price to rock this ice, uh (yeah, bitch)
Tell me, what you niggas know 'bout sacrifice? Uh (yeah, bitch)
Tell me, what you niggas know 'bout sacrifice? Yeah
I pray every night 'cause I live one hell of a life, uh
One hell of a life (yeah)
Two shows back to back, one hell of a night (two)
I pick up the check, and then I'm right back on a flight (gone)
My dawg still on lockdown and he just sent me a kite (free him)
Okay, one hell of a life, uh-huh (yeah)
Grew up watching my big cousin 'nem cooking up white (white)
Feds did a sweep and the whole neighborhood got indicted (damn)
Got an old school but it look like a new coupe inside it (yeah)
No, I'm not from New York, but I'm a motherf*ckin' giant (hey, hey)
Went from havin' nothin' (uh), to in Dubai shoppin' (uh)
She got fake tits, she love to walk around topless (uh)
Independence Day, we pull up and get it popping (popping)
No time for cheap talking (uh)
No time for cheap talking (uh-uh)
You know my teeth flawless
Baby, I'ma keep balling (yeah)
And if you see me driving in it, best believe I bought it, uh (yeah)
I'm going crazy with this paper, they like, "Key retarded" (crazy)
Don't become my target (yeah)
'Cause I'll spark it
Came a long way, yesterday I was robbin'
Robbin' everything, should've changed my name to Robert
Don't go against the grain, I put your brains on your collar (fire)
Yeah, bitch, I paid the price to rock this ice, uh (bitch)
Tell me, what you niggas know 'bout sacrifice? (bitch)
Yeah, I was up them late mornings and them early nights, uh (yeah)
Tryna get it right and tryin' not to lose my life (yeah)
Yeah, bitch, I paid the price to rock this ice, uh (yeah, bitch)
Tell me, what you niggas know 'bout sacrifice? Uh (yeah, bitch)
Tell me, what you niggas know 'bout sacrifice? Yeah
I pray every night 'cause I live one hell of a life, uh
One hell of a life (yeah)
Two shows back to back, one hell of a night (two)
I pick up the check, and then I'm right back on a flight (gone)
My dawg still on lockdown and he just sent me a kite (free him)
Okay, one hell of a life, uh-huh (one hell of a life, yeah)
Writer: Adolph Thornton, Krishon Gaines, Markeyvuis Cathey
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Songtrust Ave, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Summo
Shaking that shit, man
Let the band play
Damn
Didn't go home last night, baby mama swear I'm on some more shit
Nah, you ain't seen this one yet, I pulled up in some more shit (damn)
Uh-uh, you ain't smoking this, I'm smoking on some more shit (damn)
All I think about is guap, I be on some more shit (damn)
Didn't go home last night, baby mama swear I'm on some more shit (damn)
Spent a million yesterday, bruh, I be on some more shit (the f*ck you on, bruh?)
Is it just me or do all of these niggas be on hoe shit? (damn, dawg, it was just me, bruh)
Okay
Somebody told me real niggas go through the most shit
Tryna change my evil ways so I can be here for my kids
I keep buying all these watches, I'ma need another wrist
Can you please go tell these lil' rappers to get up off my dick?
Millionaire, I don't care, still ride around with that stick
I learned how to shoot a pistol, then learned how to drive a stick
Bugs Bunny with this shit, I put carats on my bitch
Toilet bowl full of codeine when I piss, ah
Nah, you ain't seen this one yet, I pulled up in some more shit (damn)
Uh-uh, you ain't smoking this, I'm smoking on some more shit (damn)
All I think about is guap, I be on some more shit (damn)
Didn't go home last night, baby mama swear I'm on some more shit
Baby mama, baby mama (Damn), I'm sick of that shit (I'm sick of that shit)
Quit pouring out my syrup, I ain't feelin' that shit (I quit that shit)
Knowin' damn well that I got plenty of that shit (I quit that shit)
I ain't come home last night, was out handling business and shit
Ay, told you when I met you I got everything but time (for real though)
You said that you understand, that's why I made you mine (for real though)
You asked me what all do I like to do? I said, "Grind" (uh)
You said what else I like to do? I said, "Shit, grind" (it's Dolph)
Me and them lil' niggas don't mix, we not the same kind (it's Dolph)
I remember being dirty so I just like to shine (it's Dolph)
F*ck it, put blue diamonds in it (blue rocks)
It's mine so I spent it (hey)
Ferrari limo tinted (for real)
Might be my shooter in it
Nah, you ain't seen this one yet, I pulled up in some more shit (damn)
Uh-uh, you ain't smoking this, I'm smoking on some more shit (damn)
All I think about is guap, I be on some more shit (damn)
Didn't go home last night, baby mama swear I'm on some more shit (damn)
Writer: Adolph R Thornton, Krishon Obrien Gaines
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Songtrust Ave, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., EMPIRE PUBLISHING
Blac Loccs
Uh, uh, uh, uh
Let the band play
Hah
Yeah
Black locs on so I don't see nobody
I'm on all these drugs tryna hide the pain that's inside me (ay)
Late night I'm just riding (ay)
Caught myself thinking 'bout my grandma and started crying (damn)
F*ck these diamonds (f*ck that shit!)
What I'm supposed to do when I come from drugs and violence? (yeah, yeah)
What you suppose to do when she see me in that coupe sliding (yeah, yeah)
In my hood we hit the gas when we hear sirens (skrrt)
You weren't raised like me, shut the f*ck up and be quiet (for real though)
Fell asleep on your bitch she say "Youe so childish" (my bad)
Dapper Dan hit me, said, "Young nigga, you too stylish" (gracias)
I told them just when you need a stylist (stylist)
I'm South Memphis, kicking big boy cow shit
Black locs on so I don't see nobody
I'm on all these drugs tryna hide the pain that's inside me
Bla-Black locs on so I don't see nobody (I don't see nobody)
I'm on all these drugs tryna hide the pain that's inside me
Yeah, yeah, late night on the E-way sliding
I looked down at my wrist and that bitch said "Perfect timing"
Yuh, I've been grinding (grinding), yuh, I been grinding (grinding)
Now a nigga shining 'cause these Benjamins keep on piling (yeah)
Up, playing with this paper, f*ck round, got a paper cut
Glock run in a McLarlen, FN in my tux, yuh
Bands in my pants, got my shits 'bout to bust
Got some bands I ain't touched, I think the shit collectin' dust
Cartier is on my face, I flood it with some diamonds
I get high everyday, I wake up skydiving
Money tall is what you say, you niggas be lying (liar)
It's the middle of the day, I'm sipping and I'm driving with some-
Black locs on so I don't see nobody
I'm on all these drugs tryna hide the pain that's inside me
Bla-black locs on so I don't see nobody (I don't see nobody)
I'm on all these drugs tryna hide the pain that's inside me
Writer: Adolph R Thornton, Krishon Obrien Gaines, Markeyvuis Cathey
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Songtrust Ave, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., EMPIRE PUBLISHING
Like Key
Ayy yo, Bandplay
F*ck' f*ck you lookin' at' bitch?
Let the band play
I asked this bitch' she must like what she see, what she see
Then she told me ain't another like me, like me
Naw' baby, ain't no nigga like Key, like Key
Yeah' I'ma run it up 'til I'm deceased, deceased
Yeah, I just killed the parking lot, RIP, RIP
I been getting so much guap, can't get no sleep, get no sleep
My new Eliantte piece a hundred G's, yeah
Call me Mr. Freeze, diamonds cold, below degrees, yeah
And I got that heat, shoot like D-Wade at the three
I hit the crowd, scream game over, you play with me
Yeah, I got that lemon squeeze, smoking on some lemon trees, yeah
This bitch from IG on her knees at my suite, yeah
And everything on fleek from my chopper to her weed, yeah
Bitch, I hustle hard and I make that shit look easy
I asked this bitch, she must like what she see, what she see
Then she told me ain't another like me, like me
Naw, baby, ain't no nigga like Key, like Key
Yeah, I'ma run it up 'til I'm deceased
I asked this bitch, she must like what she see, what she see
Then she told me ain't another like me, like me
Naw, baby, ain't no nigga like Key, like Key (Glizzock)
Yeah, I'ma run it up 'til I'm deceased, deceased
Yeah, I'ma run it up until I can't no more, yeah
I'ma run it up because I can't go broke, yeah
Bitch, I came from shit so now I'm walking marble floors
I put money over bitches, yeah, you know the motto
Yeah, I need my guap, ho, I get extra large dough
My lil' niggas take your cheese, they like, "That is not yours"
I got this bitch from overseas and her head game is a pro
Yeah, I know you heard of me, Glizzock AKA the G.O.A.T
I asked this bitch, she must like what she see, what she see
Then she told me ain't another like me, like me (Key Glock)
Naw, baby, ain't no nigga like Key, like Key (Naw, baby)
Yeah, I'ma run it up 'til I'm deceased (Run it up, run it up, yeah)
'Til I can't no more, yeah
Run it up 'cause I can't go broke, nah
Writer: Adolph Thornton, Krishon Gaines, Markeyvuis Cathey
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Songtrust Ave, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
It Feel Different
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Let the band play
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
I just need my niggas that's gon' ride with me (ride)
All that fake love, I don't want it (keep that)
You gotta pay to see me, I don't style for free (nah)
And none of that sucker shit, I don't condone that (yeah, yeah)
I rolled over and f*cked my bitch this morning (yeah)
The king of the jungle, gotta go, I'm hungry (Leo)
Jumped in a big boy toy, bitch, I'm a grown man (yeah)
It feel different when you get it on your own, man (on God)
I said f*ck the industry and did it my way (my way)
I learned how to roll up weed, I didn't roller skate (nah)
Go in the backyard, look at the lake, and I meditate (yeah)
Told my big sister stop working so hard, let's celebrate (yeah)
15, walking 'round with a knot, nigga (racks, nigga)
16 when I shot my first Glock, nigga (hey, hey)
Promethazine martini on the rocks, nigga (raw)
The only thing I ask from you to never stop, nigga (for real though)
I just need my niggas that's gon' ride with me (ride)
All that fake love, I don't want it (keep that)
You gotta pay to see me, I don't style for free (nah)
And none of that sucker shit, I don't condone that (yeah, yeah)
I rolled over and f*cked my bitch this morning (yeah)
The king of the jungle, gotta go, I'm hungry (Leo)
Jumped in a big boy toy, bitch, I'm a grown man (yeah)
It feel different when you get it on your own, man (on God)
For some strange reason, I just love the hustle, dawg (I love this shit)
I told all my niggas, "I just wanna see you ball" (for real though)
Ain't nobody hand me shit, I had to kick down the wall (get in there)
With all my ice on (yeah), Off-White on (yeah)
Too many chains, look like I cut the Christmas lights on (yeah)
You wouldn't grow, I cut you off, you claim I did you wrong (okay)
It be the closest motherf*ckers to you plottin' on you (plottin' on you)
Droppin' on you (for real though)
Coppin' on you (tellin')
I just need my niggas that's gon' ride with me (ride)
All that fake love, I don't want it (keep that)
You gotta pay to see me, I don't style for free (nah)
And none of that sucker shit, I don't condone that (yeah, yeah)
I rolled over and f*cked my bitch this morning (yeah)
The king of the jungle, gotta go, I'm hungry (Leo)
Jumped in a big boy toy, bitch, I'm a grown man (yeah)
It feel different when you get it on your own, man (on God)
Writer: Adolph R Thornton, John Seung Min Bradbury, Krishon Obrien Gaines, Michael Crook Lohmeier
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Songtrust Ave, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Baby Joker
(Let the band play)
Whole lot of camouflage shit in the driveway
Plug look like Baby Joker on Next Friday
Blue gas in the Demon, now I'm gettin' sideways
Blue racks on me, I been havin' shit my way
18-wheeler loaded, fresh up off the highway
All week long she been begging me to ride me
Carbon one-fifth and it's right here beside me
Cut a nigga off if I find out he lied to me
That's something you just don't do, okay?
Trust is everything, make sure we keep that, yeah
Dolph, why you f*ck all that money off all on your boys?
Bitch, 'cause them my niggas (the gang)
Did all this shit straight up out of my pocket
Didn't need no crack, I'm that nigga (it's Dolph)
You ain't never had to move 'cause your spot too hot
You ain't never shot a nigga, you ain't never got shot
You ain't never ran into your ex-bitch in the park
Hit the automatic start and flexed on her in the drop (drop-top)
Maison Margiela attire (uh)
I heard you a vagina buyer (trick)
I run with the hustlers and snipers (uh)
Another seven digit wire (uh)
Dope boy, retro, Michaels (uh)
I been ridin' 'round with my rifle (uh)
I know some trappers and swipers (uh)
I'm the shit, I'm still in diapers (uh)
She ride it like a motorcycle (uh)
I f*cked her good and f*cked her life up (uh)
Ain't none of these niggas like us (nah)
Huh, Dolph
You know these niggas hatin', Dolph
No cap
Yeah, yeah
Ayy, f*ck 'em let 'em hate, I'ma keep gettin' paid (f*ck 'em)
Cocky ass nigga and I'm stuck in my ways
Designered down and I'm still wearing J's
I'm 'bout to get a Cullinan, I couldn't get the Wraith (yeah, yeah)
Big boy double R, it's on the way (skrrt)
Or I might switch it up and put a Cutlass on eights (the f*ck?)
I pull up, hop out, look at they face (uh)
Yeah, this young nigga Key Glock goin' crazy (glock)
I been gettin' so much cake, uh (what?)
I can barely keep up what the f*ck I make (yeah)
Goddamn, think I gotta get a new safe (new safe)
Out of rubber bands 'cause this shit kept breaking (kept breaking)
Yeah, I'm the man, the man with the plan (uh)
Pull up in the van, slide the door back and blam (skrrt)
Four-fifty rounds on the nightstand (uh)
Everybody know that Glocks don't jam (jam)
Yeah, f*ck what you heard, yeah, you heard what I'm sayin' (f*ck you)
Yeah, Paper Route Business got drums, rock band (paper)
Yeah, runnin' this shit, tell them niggas stop playing (stop)
Yeah, young nigga hot, need to cut on the fan (hot)
It's a whole lot of camouflage shit in the driveway
Plug look like Baby Joker on Next Friday (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Blue gas in the Demon, now I'm gettin' sideways (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Blue racks on me, I been havin' shit my way (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
18-wheeler loaded, fresh up off the highway
All week long she been begging me to ride me
Carbon one-fifth and it's right here beside me
Cut a nigga off if I find out he lied to me (bitch, bitch)
Writer: Adolph Thornton, Krishon Gaines, Markeyvuis Cathey
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Songtrust Ave, EMPIRE PUBLISHING
Juicy
Yeah, ayy, yeah, ayy, yeah, ayy, yeah, ayy
Yeah, ayy, yeah, ayy, yeah, ayy, yeah, ayy
Yeah, ayy, yeah, ayy, yeah, ayy, yeah, ayy
Yeah, ayy, yeah, ayy
Juicy (uh), juicy (uh), juicy (uh), juicy (uh)
Juicy (uh), juicy (uh), juicy (uh), juicy (uh)
(Who was that?) All that ass, I call her Big Booty Judy (damn)
Baby fine as hell and she super juicy (bad)
Juicy (juicy), juicy (juicy), juicy (juicy), juicy (juicy)
Juicy (juicy), juicy (juicy), juicy (juicy), juicy (uh)
When she walk, all you see is ass movin' (bounce it, bounce it)
I think she got me sprung, she too damn juicy (damn)
Told me she get it from her mama (Goddamn)
Put her in a Benz, took her out that Honda (Goddamn)
I think I wanna turn her to my baby mama (Goddamn)
I plead guilty, yeah, I killed that pussy, your honor (Goddamn)
Pretty bitch, thighs shaking like thunder (yeah, yeah)
Bad bitch, she keep two credit cards on her (yeah, yeah)
Mad bitches always hating on her (yeah, yeah)
I'm pouring lean like Mexicans pour Coronas (dirty, dirty)
Can I keep it? I don't wanna just one night it (yeah, yeah)
That booty so fat, it make you wanna bite it (ayy)
I roll the weed up and let her light it (uh-huh)
She a bad bitch in public, pornstar in private
Juicy (uh), juicy (uh), juicy (uh), juicy (uh)
Juicy (uh), juicy (uh), juicy (uh), juicy (uh)
(Who was that?) All that ass, I call her Big Booty Judy (damn)
Baby fine as hell and she super juicy (bad)
Juicy (juicy), juicy (juicy), juicy (juicy), juicy (juicy)
Juicy (juicy), juicy (juicy), juicy (juicy), juicy (uh)
When she walk, all you see is ass movin' (bounce it, bounce it)
I think she got me sprung, she too damn juicy (damn)
Big Booty Judy (Judy)
Big Booty Judy (Judy)
When she walk, all you see is all that ass movin' (bounce it)
D cup boobies (boobies)
Never been a trick, now this bitch got me buyin' rubies (buyin' rubies)
(Dolph, you trippin', bro)
What the f*ck is happening?
Dolph, you come from traveling
Trapping with them packages
(The f*ck you doing?)
I think she put a curse on me
Baby girl, she gorgeous and her booty is immaculate
Woo, nah, I ain't havin' it
From the back, stabbin' it
Late night triple-X show, this ain't no David Letterman
Ayy, Big Booty Judy (yeah)
Big Booty Judy (yeah)
Uh
Juicy (uh), juicy (uh), juicy (uh), juicy (uh)
Juicy (uh), juicy (uh), juicy (uh), juicy (uh)
(Who was that?) All that ass, I call her Big Booty Judy (damn)
Baby fine as hell and she super juicy (bad)
Juicy (juicy), juicy (juicy), juicy (juicy), juicy (juicy)
Juicy (juicy), juicy (juicy), juicy (juicy), juicy (uh)
When she walk, all you see is ass movin' (bounce it, bounce it)
I think she got me sprung, she too damn juicy (damn)
Writer: Adolph Thornton, Krishon Gaines
Copyright: Lyrics © STREAMCUT MEDIA, LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc., EMPIRE PUBLISHING
Water on Water on Water
Bandplay
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Dolph Gabbana, hah, ayy
I came outside to shit on 'em today, man
Yeah
Came outside today, water on water on water, uh (water)
However you wanna play, choppers on choppers on choppers, uh (yoppers)
I live at the bank, commas on commas on commas, yeah (uh)
Paper Route Frank, hundreds on hundreds on hundreds, yeah (hey)
What's that 'round my neck? Baguettes on baguettes on baguettes (yeah, yeah)
Just f*cked up a check, fashion on fashion on fashion (yeah, yeah)
Mansion party, nothing but bitches on bitches on bitches (huh, bad)
Smoking Smarties while they shaking ass and titties (shake it, shake it, shake it, shake it)
Yellow Rolls, white gold, I got on three tones
Chocolate bitch super thick in a camoflauge thong
All that ass, you dead wrong
Rich niggas in the building, broke niggas go home (yeah, yeah)
Oh she just wanna have some drinks and had some fun (yeah, yeah)
Grant, Franklin, Jackson, that's my real day ones (yeah, yeah)
Bino bought the weed, Fizzle bought the guns (uh-huh)
Her head so good, I said, "I quit, lil' bitch, you won" (Goddamn)
I bought Eliantte diamonds for my son (water on water)
Princess cuts when I laugh, baguettes in my charm (hahahaha)
A hundred milli' off that rap shit then I'm done (ayy)
I can't wait to smoke an opp and then make bond (woo)
Came outside today, water on water on water, uh (water)
However you wanna play, choppers on choppers on choppers, uh (yoppers)
I live at the bank, commas on commas on commas, yeah (uh)
Paper Route Frank, hundreds on hundreds on hundreds, yeah (hey)
What's that 'round my neck? Baguettes on baguettes on baguettes (yeah, yeah)
Just f*cked up a check, fashion on fashion on fashion (yeah, yeah)
Mansion party, nothing but bitches on bitches on bitches (huh, bad)
Smoking Smarties while they shaking ass and titties (shake it, shake it, shake it, shake it)
Yeah, yeah, she like, "Girl, there go Glock"
With them big old diamond rocks jumpin' out that Audemar, uh
Baguettes in my watch, I got backends when I talk
Bitch, I'm richer than your boss, I don't know what the f*ck you thought, uh (yeah)
I'm still that same lil' nigga playin' with double figures, yeah (Glizzock)
And if you play, you lay, boy, don't end up a victim, yeah, yeah (get shot)
Bitch, I get it, stack it, flip it, make it triple, yeah, yeah
My lil' nigga shine your head for a nickel
I get racks, that's for shizzle
Diamonds wet, river system
Smokin' thrax, me and Flippa
In the back with some bitches
No, we ain't taking pictures
They just keep on taking liquor
Yeah, gripping on my pickle
Drunk ass bitch keep tryna lick me
'Cause I
Came outside today, water on water on water, uh (water)
However you wanna play, choppers on choppers on choppers, uh (yoppers)
I live at the bank, commas on commas on commas, yeah (uh)
Paper Route Frank, hundreds on hundreds on hundreds, yeah (hey)
What's that 'round my neck? Baguettes on baguettes on baguettes (yeah, yeah)
Just f*cked up a check, fashion on fashion on fashion (yeah, yeah)
Mansion party, nothing but bitches on bitches on bitches (huh, bad)
Smoking Smarties while they shaking ass and titties (shake it, shake it, shake it, shake it)
Came up in my hood selling fifties like Slim Shady (fifty)
Flood the street like Walgreens and got choppers like the Navy (Navy)
Drink lean like it's champagne so we buy it by the cases (dirty)
Eyes bloodshot red like I been smokin' blunts with Satan (woo)
Always on the road, mansion always vacant (it's Dolph)
Bad habit of gettin' all this dough and I can't shake it (it's Dolph)
Told Big Tigger I used to sell weed out the basement (trap)
Too many whips at the crib, ran out of parking spaces (damn)
And I only like blue cash, I'm money racist (Franks)
I call my G-Wagen Soulja Boy, watch me crank it (Soulja)
Sixty pointer dog collar chain goin' crazy (grr)
Too much drip, you gotta pay me (give me that)
Came outside today, water on water on water, uh
Writer: Adolph Thornton, Krishon Gaines, Markeyvuis Cathey
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Songtrust Ave, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Guess What?
[Young Dolph]
Guess what I just Did, Guess what I just Did
Hit the club, shut it down, left with somebodies bitch
Guess what I just copped, Guess what I just bought
Bought another foreign might give my drop top to my momma
Guess what I just did, got some head dropped her off picked up her friend
[PeeWee Longway]
Catchin bombs like I'm randy moss
Finesse the plug had to take him off
Now we trappin' out the loft
Longway, Will-A-Fool and Dolph
Foreign Going 85 North
Drop that bitch off at my momma house
You know what I did bought another one
Off that 80 crack it just be bubbling'
That taylor white like Kimora Lee
Left out the club with a bitch look like RiRi
MPA Blue on my neck think its 3D
Paper Route Empire - PRE
I might just to Christian Dior on my feet
Mason Margeila they Timberlands Wee
Trappin 448s call me Longway Big Meech
Cappcino with the and AR its heat
Drop a 50 pack off in the trenches I beat it
Blue Benjamin when you drop off my receipt
Juugin white like the beatles
Got straps like the Jeremy Adidas
I still F*ck Yo Bitch on the beach
Cali gas, front it out in the 3
California Rari, pull up 3D
With yo' bitch in the rear of the Wraith counting stars
West Hollywood gave that bitch a bar
Longway bitch
[Young Dolph]
Guess what I just Did, Guess what I just Did
Hit the club, shut it down, left with somebodies bitch
Guess what I just copped, Guess what I just bought
Bought another foreign might give my drop top to my momma
Guess what I just did, got some head dropped her off picked up her friend
[Young Dolph]
Guess what I just did, lost a quarter mill
Guess what she just did swallowed all my kids
F*cked her in the Benz, f*cked her and her friend
Just picked up 50 give me a week ill be back again
So many foreigns bet you can't guess which one I'm in
Longway thats my brother love that nigga just like my kin
Most rapper lame as f*ck no we can't be friends
The rap game fake, the streets full of snakes
3 different cities, 3 different cases
Ballin' like Diddy never been signed to no label
Crib full of white bitches all of them getting wasted
Me and longway on sunset in 2 foreigns drag racing
[Young Dolph]
Guess what I just Did, Guess what I just Did
Hit the club, shut it down, left with somebodies bitch
Guess what I just copped, Guess what I just bought
Bought another foreign might give my drop top to my momma
Guess what I just did, got some head dropped her off picked up her friend
Writer: Adolph Thornton, Krishon Gaines, Markeyvuis Cathey
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Songtrust Ave, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Reflection
In love with that money, ayy
Look in the mirror, my reflection a bag of money, ayy
Look in the mirror, my reflection a bag of money, ayy
Let the band play
I look in the mirror, my reflection a bag of money, uh-huh
Yeah
Ayo, Bandplay
Look in the mirror, my reflection a bag of money (okay)
I look in the mirror, my reflection a bag of money (what?)
I look in the mirror, my reflection a bag of money (okay)
I look in the mirror, my reflection a bag of money (okay)
I look in the mirror, my reflection a bag of money (a big bag of that shit)
My reflection a bag of money (yeah)
I look in the mirror, my reflection a bag of money (yeah, yeah)
Big bag of money (yuh)
Mirror, mirror, mirror, mirror, mirror on the wall
Can you tell me who's the most drippiest of 'em all?
This lil' nigga raw (raw), actually, he a dog (dog)
Every time he come outside his outfit match his car (damn)
On the stage performin', bitches throwin' me they bra (huh)
Self-made star (star)
Baby, I'm parked in the front in a double-R (R)
I remix my lemonade, I keep on dozin' off (dirty)
On the golf course with my neighbors, kickin' they ass in golf (hahahaha)
Three-tone Dolph (three-tone)
If I said that, I stand on it (yeah, yeah)
Bought a Bentley to stand on it (yeah, yeah)
Yeah, I got them bands on me (racks)
Shout out to my dead homie (Benjamin)
Plain rose gold Rollie (yuh)
New coupe fully loaded (yuh)
Look in the mirror, my reflection a bag of money (okay)
I look in the mirror, my reflection a bag of money (what?)
I look in the mirror, my reflection a bag of money (okay)
I look in the mirror, my reflection a bag of money (okay)
I look in the mirror, my reflection a bag of money (a big bag of that shit)
My reflection a bag of money (yeah)
I look in the mirror, my reflection a bag of money (yeah, yeah, mirror, mirror, mirror on the wall)
Big bag of money (yuh)
I look in the mirror, I see a nigga that's one hundred (yuh)
You know how I'm comin', I get comma after comma
And my first and last name changed to comma, comma
Yeah, big bag of that shit, big Glock
'Cause I keep them commas comin' in (ch-cha)
Jumpin' out the Benz with some twins, I'm so lit, yuh
All I do is win, feel like Khaled and Durant, yuh
Smoke big blunts, no pins, yeah
I tote big Glocks, no Sigs, yeah
My bankroll won't bend, yeah, my bankroll too big (woo)
This shit don't make no sense, yuh
I'm bent behind tint, yeah
Your bitch just seen my wrist
Oh, now she all on my dick
Huh, hahaha, ayy (ayy)
The bitch said, "Who you think you is, Glock?"
Bitch I look in the mirror, my reflection a bag of money (okay)
I look in the mirror, my reflection a bag of money (what?)
I look in the mirror, my reflection a bag of money (okay)
I look in the mirror, my reflection a bag of money (okay)
I look in the mirror, my reflection a bag of money (a big bag of that shit)
My reflection a bag of money (yeah)
I look in the mirror, my reflection a bag of money (yeah, yeah)
Big bag of money (yuh)
Writer: Adolph Thornton, Krishon Gaines, Markeyvuis Cathey
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Songtrust Ave, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Chill
Let the band play
Yeah
Yeah
Uh
Love get you killed (ayy)
Hustlin' get you mills (ayy)
Hate, I can't feel (ayy)
Franklin on my bills (ayy)
Pints come with seals (ayy)
Bitches love pills (ayy)
You call me too many times back-to-back, bitch, chill
(Hold up, hold up, hold up, hold up)
Her head super sloppy (damn)
My wrist super rocky (damn)
Pull up like, "What's poppin'?" (damn)
SRT slidin' (damn)
And the trunk knockin' (damn)
Coffee cup, no coffee (damn)
They want me in a coffin (damn)
But I just keep on ballin' (damn)
I just keep on ballin' (damn)
I just keep on ballin' (damn)
They watch me and they copy (damn)
Nine-eleven topless (damn)
Always shoppin' (damn)
Told her bring it back, replay like a disc jockey
(Bring it back)
Love get you killed (ayy)
Hustlin' get you mills (ayy)
Hate, I can't feel (ayy)
Franklin on my bills (ayy)
Pints come with seals (ayy)
Bitches love pills (ayy)
You call me too many times back-to-back, bitch, chill
(Hold up, hold up, hold up, hold up)
Hold up, bitch, wait (damn)
A pimp eatin' steak (damn)
First of all, don't blow up my phone
Bitch, you outta place (damn)
Never chased a bitch
Too busy makin' deposits at Chase (damn)
Light my blunt and skate (skrrt)
Never asked for nothin'
Where I'm from, we like to take (damn)
Ridin' the coupe down Alison
Made a left on Airways (damn)
Pulled up at the Dixie Queen
And got a milkshake (damn)
Dolph, remember you used to serve me back in the day? (damn)
You used to f*ck with my cousin Tiffany from The Haven (damn)
Big booty Tiffany, bruh, you moved her to Cartersville (damn)
She said she used to get three boxes a week just where she lived (damn)
Ay, gimme my food, nigga, I'm gone (I'm gone, bruh)
F*ck wrong with this nigga? He trippin' (damn)
He called this stupid ass bitch my hoe, been out here tellin' my business (damn)
Nigga, you dumb as hell, what you mean?
Did you love her? Nah
Did you f*ck her (nah)
You made six hundred bands just off that bitch in one summer
Damn, you right, hell yeah I love her, ha, hey
I'll f*ck around and call Tiffany, give her a hundred (a hundo)
Just because I'm that real, nigga, it ain't nothin' (nothin')
At least she ain't tell a f*ck nigga that she was f*ckin' (ha)
Luckily, the man upstairs, yeah, he really love me (on God)
Yeah, I'ma keep it real, that shit coulda got ugly (on God)
But it didn't, bitch, so I'm in the hood stuntin' (ayy)
Love get you killed (ayy)
Hustlin' get you mills (ayy)
Hate, I can't feel (ayy)
Franklin on my bills (ayy)
Pints come with seals (ayy)
Bitches love pills (ayy)
You call me too many times back-to-back, bitch, chill
(Hold up, hold up, hold up, hold up)
Writer: Adolph R Thornton, Krishon Obrien Gaines
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Songtrust Ave
Everybody Know
Let the band play
Ayo, Bandplay
I, pull up, stick on me
I'm a young thug and a rich homie
Bad bitch get dick only
No money? No, I don't condone it, uh
Yeah, I came in with the Rollie
Now I got an AP, baguette white gold, yeah, uh
Hell yeah I'm playin' with a check
Young nigga like to flex and everybody know that, uh
Yeah, yeah, everybody know (uh)
Everybody know I smoke dope (what)
Everybody know (yup)
Everybody know how it go (what)
Yeah, I f*ck everybody hoe (uh)
Everybody know (duh)
Everybody know what I tote (yeah)
Everybody know that my clips are 3-0 or more (yeah)
Everybody say they want smoke (tsk)
Everybody say they want smoke 'til they meet the GOAT (Glock)
Everybody know (yeah)
It's a green light, yeah, everything'll go (yeah)
Eyes real low (low)
Everybody know (yup)
Everybody know I don't give a f*ck about a hoe (ha)
I used to keep my whole bank account in the flo' (yup)
Let the carbine hang out the back window (f*ck)
F*ck you, your best friend and your kinfolk (f*ck)
Police-ass nigga, call 'em Carl Winslow (f*ck)
Don't ask me why I be so fresh (ayy)
Don't ask me why my ice so wet
Four hundred on my neck (woo)
I ain't spend no rap money yet (nah)
Is she your bitch? (what)
Then why she on my dick?
But I don't really like to have sex (ha)
I just love cashin' these checks (yeah)
That shit feel the best (yeah)
Wait until y'all see what's next (wait)
I just do more, say less (yeah)
M's wit' a S (millions)
Millions on me, I will not stop 'til I get to a billion
No, I can't stop, got my people dependin'
I ran it up, got my real niggas wit' me
But some niggas switched and turned into bitches
Now in some mansions start hittin' the trenches (yuh)
Too many bands, I can't bend it (ice)
Too many hoes, I can't get 'em off
Off of me (of me)
Yeah, everybody know I'm a P
Everybody know me
Everybody know she a freak (uh)
Everybody know she eat me (uh)
Glock, you a beast (Glock)
Set a new trend every week (yup)
I spend it like it grow on trees (guop)
Ridin' through the streets (yup)
With Dolph in a double off a tea
Got everybody on Gelato and on Russian Cream, yeah
Ay, lemme see that lighter, Glock
Mansion on a hill but I come from the slum (yeah)
Wearin' Balenciaga's like Air Force One
I'm not a pimp but got my holdin' bitches down one
Black ass nigga like Akon (Dolph)
Hustlin' ass nigga, I'm my mama's son (yup)
Send it to your front door like Amazon (ayy)
Leave it at the front door, ain't nobody home (uh)
Everybody know that he a real one (yeah)
Been a trap nigga since a lil' one (yeah)
Eatin' like the pilgrims
Everybody know that she a bad one (bad)
But yeah, I already had one (ayy)
Now she in her feelings (ayy)
Jackin' the rocks in my ears
Let's get it clear
It ain't money then I can't hear (what'd you say?)
Dolce Gabbana my drip
Gun on my hip
Don't get your shit peeled, ayy
Writer: Adolph R Thornton, Krishon Obrien Gaines, Markeyvuis Cathey
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Songtrust Ave, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., EMPIRE PUBLISHING
Pride
Let the band play
Ayo, Bandplay
Ay, f*ck luck, got a stick on me
I'm a young thug and a rich homie
Bad bitch get dick only
No money? No, I don't condone it, uh
Yeah, I came in with the Rolly
Now I got an AP, baguette white gold, yeah, uh
Hell yeah I'm playin' with the shit
Young nigga like to flex and everybody know that, uh
Yeah, yeah, everybody know (Uh)
Everybody know I smoke dope (What)
Everybody know (Yup)
Everybody know how it go (What)
Yeah, I f*ck everybody ho (Uh)
Everybody know (Duh)
Everybody know what I tote (Yeah)
Everybody know that my clips are 3-0 or more (Yeah)
Everybody say they want smoke (Tsk)
Everybody say they want smoke 'til they meet the goat
Glock
Everybody know (Yeah)
It's a green light, yeah, everything'll go (Yeah)
Eyes real low (Low)
Everybody know (Yup)
Everybody know I don't give a f*ck about a ho (Ha)
I used to keep my whole bank account in the flo' (Yup)
Let the carpet hang out the back window (F*ck)
F*ck you, your best friend and your kinfolk (F*ck)
Police-ass nigga, call 'em Carl Winslow (F*ck)
Don't ask me why I be so fresh (Ayy)
Don't ask me why my ice so wet
Four hundred on my neck (Woo)
I ain't spend no rap money yet (Nah)
Is she your bitch? (What)
Then why she on my dick?
But I don't really like to have sex (Ha)
I just love cashin' these checks (Yeah)
That shit feel the best (Yeah)
Wait until y'all see what's next (Wait)
I just do more, say less (Yeah)
M's wit' a S (Millions)
Millions on me, I will not stop 'til I get to a billion
No, I can't stop, got my people dependin'
I ran it up, got my real niggas wit' me
But some niggas switched and turned into bitches
Now in some mansions start hittin' the trenches (Yuh)
Too many bands, I can't bend it (Ice)
Too many hoes, I can't get 'em off
Off of me (Of me)
Yeah, everybody know I'm a P
Everybody know me
Everybody know she a freak (Uh)
Everybody know she eat me (Uh)
Glock, you a beast (Glock)
Set a new trend every week (Yup)
I spend it like it grow on trees (Guop)
Ridin' through the streets (Yup)
With Dolph in here, double off the tree
Got everybody on Gelato and the Russian Cream, yeah
Ay, lemme see that lighter, Glock
Mansion on a hill but I come from the slum (Yeah)
Wearin' Balenciaga's like Air Force One
I'm not a pimp but got my holdin' bitches down one
Black ass nigga like Akon (Dolph)
Hustlin' ass nigga, I'm my mama's son (Yup)
Send it to your front door like Amazon (Ayy)
Leave it at the front door, ain't nobody home (Uh)
Everybody know that he a real one (Yeah)
Been a trap nigga since a lil' one (Yeah)
Eatin' like the pilgrims
Everybody know that she a bad one (Bad)
But yeah, I already had one (Ayy)
Now she in her feelings (Ayy)
Jackin' the rocks in my ears
Let's get it clear
It ain't money then I can't hear (What'd you say?)
Dolce Gabbana my drip
Gun on my hip
Don't get your shit peeled, ayy
Writer: Adolph Thornton, Krishon Gaines, Markeyvuis Cathey
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Songtrust Ave, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Monster
Let the band play
All these cameras flashin' and my diamonds dancin'
I came out the slums, I'm the one that made it happen
Now I'm gettin' back ends, I used to get them bags in
Came out the trenches, now a nigga livin' lavish
I'm finna buy a mansion and turn it to my palace
Bitch, I'm cold as Aspen, I'll pop you like an aspirin
Think like I'm Jurassic and all my bitches nasty
Told these hoes, they know I'm too real to have a bitch that's plastic
Nah, that ain't me, I like natural physiques, uh
Pretty and petite, and she cocky just like me
Yeah, I put her on my team, she come straight from overseas
Yeah, hoes from A to Z, they all treat me like a king
Big boss shit, baby, I get it in daily
AP got my wrist achin', I'm poppin', hot bacon
You know I am not basic, no I am not basic
Just look at what God created (God created, God created)
A monster, a motherf*ckin' monster
Shout out to my grandma, she know she raised a hustler, yeah
And my mama told me never, ever, ever, never
Ever, never, ever trust a nigga or a bitch, uh
That's just how it is (Yeah)
That's how you get killed, thinkin' everybody real
It was hard where I lived, I was robbin', payin' bills, yeah
Yeah, in these streets for real thinkin' about my next meal, yeah, yeah
Big boss shit, baby, I get it in daily
AP got my wrist achin', I'm poppin', hot bacon
You know I am not basic, no I am not basic
Just look at what God created (God created, God created)
A monster, a motherf*ckin' monster
A monster, a motherf*ckin' monster
Writer: Adolph Thornton, Krishon Gaines, Markeyvuis Cathey
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Songtrust Ave, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., EMPIRE PUBLISHING
Back At It
Let the band play
Uh, back at it again (Yeah), yuh
I told my niggas quit playin', let's run up the Ms (Ay, bruh), uh, yo
I hop in some' fast, do the dash, I'm gone with the wind, uh, uh, yo
I'm rollin' up blunts back-to-back in a big Maybach Benz, uh, uh, yo
This money got me in a trance, I'm goin' in, pockets full of Benjamins
Everybody watchin' him, he ballin' again, damn, Glock 'bove the rim
Better put that shit on film (Uh), bitch, I got skills, young nigga flexin', no gym
Don't give a f*ck how you feel, you know what it is, uh, uh, nigga
Yo (Yeah), everybody cut-throat (Cut-throat, yeah)
Everybody on go mode (Everybody), whole gang on go-go (Go, gang)
Got aim like Rambo (Yeah, bow), yo, big Ks, they jumbo (Big ol' K)
Them thangs hold hunchos (Yeah, woo, pow, pow, pow, pow), yo
Back at it again, uh, my new bitch a ten and she ain't got no friends (My new bitch)
But she pop her lil' pills (Pop) and I crack all these seals so I cannot trip (Yeah)
Codeine what I sipped up, ain't shit changed, still keep that thang right here
Up on my hip, I just beat a case, I got caught ridin' 'round
With them thangs in my whip (My whip), uh, nigga, I was sticked up (Sticked up, yeah)
Plenty sticks, yup (Yeah), they legit, but, uhh (Legit)
You know how twelve act (How?) when they see us (Damn)
Man, f*ck them thangs (F*cked up shit)
Uh, yeah, f*ck twelve, uh, yeah
F*ck jail, hold it down, never tell
If you can, make that bail
Pockets swell, God damn, I been gettin' it, can't you tell?
Hell yeah, I'm a playa, still ain't been to Himalayas
Yeah, bitch, I'm from South Memphis, all we know is drugs and killin'
I forgot to mention pimpin', thank God I came out them trenches
Yeah, it's one hell of a feelin' when you talk pennies to millions (Pennies to millions)
Uh, back at it again (Back, yuh)
I told my niggas quit playin', let's run up the Ms (Yeah, stop playin' with 'em)
I hop in some' fast, do the dash, I'm gone with the wind (Skrrt, skrrt, skrrt, uh)
Yo, I'm rollin' them blunts back-to-back in a big Maybach Benz (Maybach Benz)
(Back, in the back of the Maybach)
Uh, back at it again, yuh
I told my niggas quit playin', let's run up the Ms (Ayy, uh, yo)
I hop in some' fast, do the dash, I'm gone with the wind (Hop in some' fast), yeah
I'm rollin' up blunts back-to-back in a big Maybach Benz (Uh, uh, back-to-back)
Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher
Cutthroat Committee
(Band)
Yeah, yeah
Ha
(Let the band play)
Ayy
Told my teacher, "Dumb bitch, I'm gonna get millions" (watch this)
In the projects, livin' (damn), spoke it 'til existence (voila)
I'm from where you can't trust a soul, welcome to my city (Memphis)
Smokin' Skittles, eatin' M&Ms, my yoppa hold fifty (hey)
Cutthroat committee (yup), O-Dog, Menace (society)
More change than 50 (what up?), Got more cars than Diddy (on God)
I only weigh one-eighty but my watch cost two-fifty (quarter)
Cutthroat committee (soldier), cutthroat committee (slim)
They say you can't do that, I said "Okay, nigga, watch this" (man)
Now I pull up in a Lambo just to smoke and pop shit (pop)
Watched Roots last night, it got me on some Pac shit
Grandma tried to raise me right, but I got on some hot shit (damn)
My real niggas with me, I don't owe the block shit (f*ck 'em)
It was all fun and games when they had not shit (f*ck 'em)
Now all them rocks in his watch, he on some rock shit (it's the rock)
I think I'm mixed with Japanese 'cause we keep chopsticks (woo)
Remember being broke and hungry, only thang change (what?)
Yeah, I'm still hungry, but a nigga rich (yeah)
They hate you to death and fake love when you die (ball)
Damn, life a bitch (ball, it's Dolph)
Told my teacher, "Dumb bitch, I'm gonna get millions" (watch this)
In the projects, livin' (damn), spoke it 'til existence (voila)
I'm from where you can't trust a soul, welcome to my city (Memphis)
Smokin' Skittles, eatin' M&Ms, my yoppa hold fifty (hey)
Cutthroat committee (yup), O-Dog, Menace (society)
More change than 50 (what up?), Got more cars than Diddy (on God)
I only weigh one-eighty but my watch cost two-fifty (quarter)
Cutthroat committee (cut, cut, cut), cutthroat committee (yeah) (slim)
Cutthroat committee, everybody totin' extentions, yeah (cutthroat)
Slidin' through the city, and I got them semis with me, yeah (skrrt)
When it come to paper, baby, you know we get plenty, yeah (yeah, yeah)
You know we get plenty paper, bitch you know the business (yeah, yeah)
Long bread like a Philly, I get cheese, bitch, you feel me? (Uh)
All 'em bitches feel me, couple niggas wanna kill me (what?)
Let that choppa hit him, he gon' slide like he got Heelies, yeah
Monkey ass nigga, carbon wheel, banana split 'em, yeah
Already know that we on go (on go)
Yeah, I told you once before, we cutthroat (cutthroat)
We don't stab backs, no, that ain't how we roll (how we roll) (no)
Yeah, bitch, I have been gettin' dough, in the class, I had-
Told my teacher, "Dumb bitch, I'm gonna get millions" (watch this)
In the projects, livin' (projects), spoke it 'til existence (voila) (oh God)
I'm from where you can't trust a soul, welcome to my city (Memphis)
Smokin' Skittles, eatin' M&Ms, my yoppa hold fifty (hey)
Cutthroat committee (yup), O-Dog, Menace (society)
More change than 50 (what up?), Got more cars than Diddy (on God)
I only weigh one-eighty but my watch cost two-fifty (quarter)
Cutthroat committee (soldier), cutthroat committee (slim)
Writer: Adolph Thornton, Krishon Gaines, Markeyvuis Cathey
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Songtrust Ave, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.
Whats Wrong
Ay, what the f*ck is wrong with these niggas? Uh
Tell the truth, I ain't tryna do no song with these niggas, uh
Bitch, the street for real, I keep that chrome on me, nigga
Yeah, this industry ain't none but full of phony lil' niggas
No lie, every nigga 'round me, yeah, they gon' fire
Don't try, FN five-seven rippin' your spine
Homicide, ain't nobody see shit but them bullets fly
Bullets fly, I'ma drop a body before I drop a dime
No time for these maggot bitches that play both sides
No diamonds in my plain Jane, my wrist a gold mine
Bitch I drip-drip, I need a wet floor sign
Bitch I cash out every time, don't need a co-sign
Motherf*ck that, I got hella racks
Bitch, back-back, watch these niggas savin' hoes
They need to save up some racks
I might work a ho, 'cause, yeah, you know I'm a mack
Pull up, Eldorado 'Lac
Turnt to the max
Never been a punk nigga, always kept a strap
I'm fastest for his gun, young nigga runnin' up that check
Yeah, I'll take him out, bitch, I'll strike you out, who next at bat?
Huh? He say he f*ckin' with me
Ay, what the f*ck is wrong with these niggas? Uh
Tell the truth, I ain't tryna do no song with these niggas, uh
Bitch, the street for real, I keep that chrome on me, nigga
Yeah, this industry ain't none but full of phony lil' niggas
My wrist a gold mine, ohh
A gold mine
Yeah, it's a fire in the booth
This young nigga the truth
I'm smoking on forbidden fruit
And it smell, just like a poot
I'm a lion in the coupe
Have you seen a lion shoot?
Get out of line than I do
(Fire, fire, fire) who are you, nigga??
The f*ck is wrong with these niggas? Uh
Tell the truth, I ain't tryna do no song with these niggas, uh
Bitch, the street for real, I keep that chrome on me, nigga
Yeah, this industry ain't none but full of phony lil' niggas
The f*ck is wrong with these niggas? Uh
Is wrong with these niggas
Is wrong with these niggas
The f*ck is wrong with these niggas? Uh
Is wrong with these niggas
Tell the truth, I ain't tryna do no song with these niggas, nah
Writer: Edward Murray, Markeyvuis Cathey
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc., EMPIRE PUBLISHING
Crashin Out
Lately I been feeling like spazzin' out
Memphis niggas known for crashin' out
I heard you going broke, so you ass'd out
Tryna keep up with the kid you gon' be ass'd out
Tell me how the f*ck you think I got here
This rap game ain't shit to me but some cartwheels
90 percent of these niggas not real
Started rapping, found out these rappers jewelry not real
Damn, swear that shit hurt my heart dawg, huh, f*ck it though
Never had a deal but got more guap than all of y'all
Lost a half of mil' that's why I started rapping, dawg
Tall skinny nigga, I should of been playing ball
But I had niggas spending a hundred grand every time they called
It ain't shit to pick up a pistol and go robbin' nigga
I let my nuts hang, went out of town and went mobbin' nigga
Think 'bout my childhood, all I remember is starving nigga
Old niggas in the hood was hating, but I ain't buy them niggas
Made a pledge with my niggas, we brothers forever (Yeah)
Don't give a f*ck, you right or wrong, we thuggin' forever (Yeah!)
Shit was treacherous in my hood, nigga (Every man for they self)
Richest nigga in my hood, nigga (Yeah, yeah)
Do what I wanna, before this rap shit, none of that cap shit
Just might be the realest nigga on the map, bitch
Had your sister holding pounds on some trap shit
Bout to go pick up some gualla, I'll be back bitch
Two-two thousand miles away, by my damn self
Niggas talk too much so I don't need no damn help
Dolph ran up them milly's, you feel like he owe you don't you?
But tell the truth, you would cross him out for some paper, won't you?
Why I show you so much, you ain't never did shit for me
I take that back, besides run your mouth like a bitch to me
I ain't got no rap friends cause all they bitches feeling me
They know deep down inside I'm what they nigga wanna be
Ain't nothing but one of me (Damn)
He really from the streets (Damn)
He really swung them P's (Damn)
He really bought that double R truck, it's not a lease (Damn)
Momma called me crying, said she proud of me (I love you)
Remember a couple of my own niggas doubted me (F*ck you)
Found my first plug, was like I hit the lottery (Thank you, God)
When I get shot, was the first time I ain't have my Glock with me
Writer: Adolph Thornton, Krishon Gaines
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Songtrust Ave, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., EMPIRE PUBLISHING
Dum and Dummer
Uh-huh
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
(Let the band play)
Yeah, my watch dumb, but my chain a little dumber (dumber)
I been doin' numbers (numbers), came up in the jungle (jungle)
I can't see none of you lil' niggas, Stevie Wonder (Stevie)
She pull up and suck it, then she leave just like a plumber (woo)
That nigga right there only come around 'cause what you got (for real, though)
That bitch right there, she only f*cking you because you shining (for real, though)
It take money to make money, and it's all about timing (stay down)
I went and got rich but it still can't fix everything (damn)
Doing donuts in a Ferrari in the rain (skrrt)
I don't supposed to be here, look how far I done came (yeah, yeah)
Drop the top on that bitch just to make sure they see me (yeah, yeah)
Blue diamonds all in my Cartiers while I'm reading (yeah, yeah)
Turned to Michael Jackson on that bitch, told her, "Beat it" (hee)
Girl, I swear your pussy too damn good, I don't need it (yeah, yeah)
Talkin' 'bout you love me, bitch please, I don't believe it (yeah yeah)
Had a bad Mexican bitch sending bales from Phoenix (mummy)
Yeah, my watch dumb, but my chain a little dumber (dumber)
I been doin' numbers (Numbers), came up in the jungle (jungle)
I can't see none of you lil' niggas, Stevie Wonder (Stevie)
She pull up and suck it, then she leave just like a plumber (woo)
Yeah, that young nigga there buy a new drop-top every summer, yeah (drop)
Ridin' 'round smoking ganja (yuh), I'm sticked up like a gun club, yeah (gun club)
Bitch, I do what I want, I work harder than a butler (work)
Yeah, I'm like no other (bitch), I'm straight up out the gutter (bitch)
Suburbs livin' now (yeah), bitch, come check it out (check it out)
I'm balling hard, I'm wigging out (ball), I want the cash, no clout
Yeah, f*ck the fame without a doubt (f*ck it), I'm f*ckin' up this thing right now
Got a quarter of a million on me now (quarter) and my rings and chain don't count
Yeah, my watch dumb (dumb, dumb), but my chain a little dumber (bitch) (dumber)
I been doin' numbers (numbers), came up in the jungle (jungle)
I can't see none of you lil' niggas, Stevie Wonder (Stevie)
She pull up and suck it, then she leave just like a plumber (woo)
Writer: Adolph Thornton, Krishon Gaines, Markeyvuis Cathey
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Songtrust Ave, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.