CyHi The Prynce - Slick Lyrics

CyHi The Prynce - Slick Lyrics:

[Hook]
Slick, slick, slick, slick
Slick, slick, slick, slick
They slick acting like haters
They slick acting like hoes
They slick jocking my ride
They slick jocking my clothes
I’m slick getting this money
I’m slick getting this dough
Everything be slick, I just put slick in all of my clothes
[Verse 1]
What you know about slick talk?
Nigga I’m a zone 6 boss
My neck is ice and my wrist frost
Tell them broke niggas get lost
My Jesus piece that slick cost
Ya click weed, y’all slick soft
Don’t get hit with that dumper nigga
Tryna dump a nigga with that Kris Kross
I’m fresh as hell in this slick fit
Your girl I slick hit
Trust me dawg, I ain’t lying
I don’t tell the stories that’s Slick Rick
Took her to the crib, big 6
I swing wood, I switch it
My money long like Stacey Augmon
Bitch I’m balling, I’m 6’6″
Shawty slick be hatin’, all the misbehaving
You don’t get a hater fucked up
And I tryna be fakin’
I treat bitches like bank accounts
I will never be chasing
I slick be checking hoes
Y’all slick be saving
[Hook]
[Verse 2]
I’m slick this, slick that
I’m with a thick bitch with a 6 pack
She ask me how her hair look
I said I like it better when it’s slick back
Riding round with a slick rack
Got a lot of hoes, I’m a slick mac
Damn girl you fine as hell
And that ass is slick fat
I’m slicker than a can of oil
Some hoes say I’m mean, some hoes say I’m spoiled
If the bitch is Spanish, she cook all those compoyo
I slick be smoking tree, you slick be smoking soil
I’m talking slick, do you understand my slang?
Which I’m still fucking with the same niggas
I used to slang with
You slick jealous, you just man, cause you ain’t slick
I got these lames pissed
Cause I slick with they main bitch
[Hook] X 2

Mike Posner - Room 925 ft. Cyhi The Prynce Lyrics

Mike Posner - Room 925 ft. Cyhi The Prynce Lyrics:

damn baby, you’re sexy!
what you’re scared for?
you think that i’m gonna find out
you wanna say something?
i ain’t gonna tell him myself
ha, oh man, baby we’re grown, feel me

i hear first night, she's worried, i think that she’s a groupie
but i know i’m still probably gonna take her to the movies
i find myself in another delicate situation
cause i can’t date you we can’t talk about it, i'm at the holiday inn

chorus:
oh, and if you don’t tell your girlfriends
then i won’t tell the crew
no one has to know about the crazy shit we do
i can keep on the low, girl
i don’t kiss and tell
no one has to know about,
what goes on in this hotel.
i won’t tell a soul!

she’s mad at me, cause i forgot to call her on her birthday
but i’ve been running round, what makes you wanna fuck me in the first place?
but i don’t like you, enough to think 'bout making you my lady
i only call you when i'm in town i know that drives you crazy

chorus:
oh, and if you don’t tell your girlfriends
then i won’t tell the crew
no one has to know about the crazy shit we do
i can keep on the low, girl
i don’t kiss and tell
no one has to know about,
what goes on in this hotel.
i won’t tell a soul!
(what you mean to…
i don’t even watch television)
i won’t tell a soul!
and i don’t own a telescope
you feel me?

i got this girl i met in kansas
originally from witchita
she say she’s from the country so i pulled up bumpin' tim mcgraw
i got a few dollars in my budget
uh, so i scooped her in the rental car
yeah, i took her back to the w
reached inside the mini bar
and poured us both a cup of goose
then i rolled up, like a rubber do
first i lay you on the bed
then i coco butter you
then we do what lovers do
on top of the covers, ooh!
damn, girl you’re sexy!
you gonna make me baby mother you
then she said, what am i gonna tell my friends?
and this is what i told her, before i put it in!

chorus:
if you don’t tell your girlfriends
then i won’t tell the crew
no one has to know about the crazy shit we do!
i can keep on the low, girl
i don’t kiss and tell
no one has to know about,
what goes on in this hotel.
i won’t tell a soul!
i won’t tell a soul!

Yelawolf - Gangsta Of Love ft. CyHi Da Prynce Lyrics

Yelawolf - Gangsta Of Love ft. CyHi Da Prynce Lyrics:

[Yealwolf - Verse 1]
Would the real slim shady please stand up
And tell these muthaf-ckers why I got signed
Cause I’m on the verge of slapping one of these white boys
Out here tryna imitate my grind
And if you finna feel it when I say that
F-ck you, say something back
What I gotta lose, I’m already the underdog
Why wouldn’t I give you the opportunity to rap
F-ck boy, I’m harder than ya momma’s f-ck toy
And she’s still bitching
I’m sicker than a chicken sitting in shit
Sticking itself with a syringe in a Japanese kitchen, get some
I got the kinky bitch, get crumbs
Yeah here the Shady clique come
They say I’m a dick head
Well it fits why
Cause muthaf-ckers p-ssy ass came up til she gets numb
Any of many styles that I pick from
F-ck it just give me kick drums
Cause Yelawolf aint a rapper
I’m a cataclysmic culturally offensive don’t give a shit bum
ex-con
So put ya money on a ‘Bama boy
20 West of Atlanta boy
You wanna ride in my lane prepare for the 18 wheeler
winds ?

[Chorus]
All the girls I meet
Are falling down them stairs
Said gettin themselves together
They gettin themselves together
(Thats why they call me)
Gangsta of Love

Yelawolf and I
On top don’t wonder why
Cause I rock and roll
Stop drop and roll
Thats why they call me
(Gangsta of love)
Feet on the ground
Head in the sky
Cause I rock and roll
Stop drop and roll
Thats why they call me

[Yealwolf - Verse 2]
Hold up, my God
Let me pull the chevrolet out the garage
I killin on hennessy lately, KP
You might get a hicky from Nicki Minaj
F-ck em all with a sandpaper dick
I dare anybody to come match to this
You couldn’t hold a flame to my name bitch
I wouldn’t even let you hold a bic to my cancerous stick?
I’m treating rappers like loose change
The shoe string belts that I lost in the cracks of my couch
Like I didn’t even know I had that until ?
Oh you want some of the south shit?
Well let me show you what the south is
You into sucking dick
Well I’m into getting rich
We could make a good team
Put your money where your mouth is

[Chorus]

[Yealwolf - Verse 3]
I roll out in a t-top two seater
Looking like an american missle seeker
Got back pack packs in my dungerees
Yeah I’mma light a fuse under the disbeliever
Say you don’t give a shit good
Cause I don’t give two shits neither
You ready let it go, I’m already at your funeral
Walking with a rose like Wiz Khalifa
Yessir, I’m bonafied
I’mma go ahead and live cause I know I’m gonna die
And if you wanna live baby get up in the whip
Baby I don’t know what I’ma give but I know I’m gonna try
Whatever it is girl you know I’m gonna vibe
But you know thats a fib yeah, you know thats a lie
What if I buy you drive through popeyes?
Do you want it grilled or do you want it fried?
I’m doing this like I knew I would
And you did too, so you knew you did
If I never got a co-sign I’ll be at your throat
And it don’t matter who I’m with
Reppin’ that area code 256
White trash girls wink with blue eyelids
Because they know Yelawolf can’t be f-cked with
But it don’t take an asshole to see that shit

[Chorus]

Cyhi Da Prynce - So Emotional ft. Tity Boi Lyrics

Cyhi Da Prynce - So Emotional ft. Tity Boi Lyrics:

[Cyhi Da Prynce]
Okay, Huh
Uh
Boy you just a regret
quit cryin bout that bitch, n go get yourself some Kleenex
now he wanna fight, cause his broad all in my penic??
i heard she a meat eater, man we call that bitch a t-rex
you must be on that heat, cause you soft as riding secret
def can hate, i got your hoe photo on coast of key west
we just, Sippin on this v-est durin recess
Flew her out the country, so you cant call her on no b s
i think im bigger then i am, i should wear a 3 x
Im a player, i should be on espn in a g-est ?
i could of hit him in his jaw, but i didnt not a ?
So i wrote this letter, and i end it in your b s

You niggas so Emotionalll
You niggas so emotional
(cant keep your feelings in control, remind me of my hoe
all you do is mummy, everytime i hit the door

You niggas so emotional
You niggas so emotional
Cant keep your feelings in control remind me of my hoe
all you do is mummy, everytime i hit the door

[Tity Boi]
TWO CHAINS

Me n Cyhi, its the new atlanta
all my dogs on that monkey shit, zoo atlanta
that means you some fanta, then put codeine in it
Shake it for 30 seconds, pour it, then i leaann with it
Treat your girl like weed, n let my team hit it
See through you from the bottom, like chlorine nigga
Yeah, if i say it then i done did it
have your girl trickin out for that 1 Fifty
the car 150, the charm 150
two blunts of irene, i do a song quickly
Yeah,she txtin two chains with a smiley face
I told her i dont get no signal when im outer space

You niggas so emotional
You niggas so emotional
Cant keep your feelings in control, remind me of my hoe
all you do is mummy every time i hit the door

You niggas so emotional
You niggas so emotional
Cant keep your feelings in control, remind me of my hoe
all you do is mummy every time i hit the door

[Cyhi]
Im on a pack of loud, smells like i had a bow
movement in my jeans, your green smells like black n mouse
im married to the game, we even had a chow
but i dont sweat these hoes, thats why i pack a towel
so why you niggas tense, why dont you crack a smile
Ey i dont owe you shit, no homie thats a vowel
Im defensive about my ends, call me marcus trial?
nigga what you mad, cause my canoes in her canal
my jewellery saint blue, ,my pistols sayin pow
my jesus piece is flooded, its golden like the crowd??
you aint standing in the river, so i argue and denial
that your pops just love my verses, n your hoes all love my style
i do this for the lames and the haters in the crowd
So before i take a bow, i wanna say

You niggas so emotional
You niggas so emotional
Cant keep your feelings in control, remind me of my hoe
all you do is mummy every time i hit the door

You niggas so emotional
You niggas so emotional
Cant keep your feelings in control, remind me of my hoe
all you do is mummy every time i hit the door

CyHi Da Prynce - Sunday Morning Lyrics

CyHi Da Prynce - Sunday Morning Lyrics:

Your girl is easy like Sunday morning
your girl is easy
Your bitch is easy like Sunday morning
She was riding in the Acura
I pulled up from the back of her
rolled the window down and said, “Hello I am a bachelor,
with excellent vernacular,
ATL’s Ambassador”
she said “Whatcha smokin’ on?”
“Oh… that’s the smell of lavender”
“And you drive a nice car,
you must be a trafficer”
I said, “Girl you a trip,
you must be a traveler”
She said she was from Marietta
went to school in Lassiter
But I don’t care
I just want to beat it up like Haggler
She said her name was Bridget
and she like to kick it
but she got a boyfriend
I told her I could dig it
She said, “If he catch us fuckin’ round
that nigga would be livid,
Admit it,
you would be too if you was with this”
So I cut the bullshit
and asked her for her digits
a couple days later she came by to pay a visit
now I’m in the room
swinging wood like I’m playing cricket
So if you think she the one,
my nigga you should quit it
Your girl is easy like Sunday morning
your girl is easy
Your bitch is easy like Sunday morning
Yeah, Okay
here’s another scenario
I knew this girl from middle school
when it came to getting some
it was never difficult
she liked all the athletes
came to all the track meets
and i was varsity
so you know I had to hit her too
her attitude was pitiful
reminds you of the typical
bitch from up the street
plus a liar that’s habitual
getting drunk and having sex
I swear the chick was pitiful
sucking dick, tryna get rich – that’s a ritual
all the way through high school
until she was a senior
been about seven years since a nigga seen her
heard she moved away
but the rumors still linger
used to have a partner named mark who drove a beamer
said he met a girl that used to go to ‘Rita
and he in love with her
I said, “You jumpin’ off the deep end”
said he name was Kim
half black and Puerto Rican
You talking ’bout the Kim that graduated in ’03 man?
That bitch was easy
Your bitch is easy like Sunday morning
your bitch is easy

Cyhi Da Prynce ft Yelawolf - Bulletproof Lyrics

Cyhi Da Prynce ft Yelawolf - Bulletproof Lyrics:

[Verse 1 - Cyhi Da Prynce:]
I am bullet bullet bullet bullet bullet bulletproof
I done already get what they said I couldn't do
Look at me no look at you
I'm one nigga that you shouldn't shoot
Cause i've been running with them killers since was a little nigga
With a gap in the crooked tooth
87 i'ma pull it too
Keep the pot slow cause like i'm cooking soup
Got a bunch of bitches that've been playing on my bone 
Always saying i'm wrong cause I wouldn't screw
Oh well change my number
Take 'em to the...
I give women 5% and I think my last girl's name was Summer
Oh my bad it was Autumn, hit the gat and then I dot 'em
Never call 'em...
All my enemies, I done fought 'em
All the Jays, I done bought 'em
Paid in full like them niggas who brand a slalom out in Harlem
Cause i'm a hell of a writer, I think I deserve a column
That's why i'm the headliner and you herds are at the bottom
I got me suckers scared, got these pussies playing possum
This the first thing I said when I saw 'em

I heard you talking like you
We all got guns my niggas so ain't nobody
And we got enough... my niggas so think about it

[Verse 2 - Cyhi Da Prynce:]
You can talk about me all you want
That don't matter cause my self esteem is bulletproof
My shit won't shatter
I'ma find my way up to the top, I don't need no ladder
I already got these niggas pissed, I don't need no bladder
Fuck the chatter and the jabber...
Niggas mad that the Prynce poppin' cause my pockets fatter
Catchers hoppin' out of vans
Boy I stay in Abbadaba
Shawty i'm always out of town and it ain't cause I like to travel

Niggas talkin' 'bout the booths and wearing in the magazine
You can bathe in some bleech and you still will be half as clean
Bitch i'm slick as vaseline, smoking gasolene...

[Verse 3 - Yelawolf:]
Somebody should have told me I was gonna be a mother fucking problem
I never knew i'd be this hard to get, shit
I didn't get the memo, I should've took my demo to Stephen Hawkings
Cause i'm weird science, appear to be violent
Tattoos like gat hooks, Yelawolf he's clearly defiant

CyHi Da Prynce - Woopty Doo ft Big Sean Lyrics

CyHi Da Prynce - Woopty Doo ft Big Sean Lyrics:

[Verse 1 - Cyhi]
It may seem I’m sitting on a fortune
But sometimes money is just so important
In my hood, I’m equivalent to Jordan
Dribbling on the court, but shawty out here recording
Tricking rather give it to an orphan
All you wanna do is hit the clique into a saw, eh?
Get her pregnant, then neglect it
Then you go an tell the chick “get an abortion”
Them types, CyHi is not endorsing
They sitting down to take a leak, I’m pissing on the porcelain..
I’m from the South, but my parents are New Yorkin’
Shouts out to Albany – I see you Uncle Norman!
Keep your family before friends
Cause God is the only one that come before them
You got a nephew? Well, go support him!
You got some nieces, make sure that you adore them
I miss mine, cause I’m always out here touring
Or with the strippers at the Hilton up on Cortland
One from Utah, the other one from Portland
We in Cali though, but I am from New Orleans
I can’t lie, I lust for things
Like an old-school black Old Cut supreme
Or an iced-out G shock and a custom ring
And a freak with an ass that sit above her jeans
But if not..
[Hook]
Woopty Doo!
Shawty say caked up.
Woopty Doo!
Just bought an Escalade truck
Woopty Doo!
Put some 26s on it
Woopty Doo!
She be looking pretty, don’t it?
Woopty Doo!
You hit the club and made it rain
Woopty Doo!
You spend like 50 on the chain
But every 365 bro, you get a little wiser
And realize all that stupid shit you bought was lame
Cause it dont mean shit, when you out there on your own
Cause it dont mean shit, when the Feds run in your home
Cause it dont mean shit, when you can’t take care of your kids
Cause it dont mean shit, I tell em:
Woopty Doo! Woopty Doo! Woopty Doo!
[Verse 2 - Big Sean]
Okay I’m rocking all gold
I feel like a Pharoah from b-b-b
Bullets is bigger than arrows
But in the middle of that peril
I’m still rocking new apparel
I just left the casino, I got money by the barrels
I feel like I’m Al Pacino
I’m counting Robert DiNero
If a bitch want more? Best believe me that I’m there
You can catch me in the middle of that field like a scarecrow
Only difference is that I’m never scared
I’m tired of the cloudy days
I’m wishing for the sun
You would’ve thought I was sterile
But I made it to the sky where angel asses erect us
Hollwood directors, Melrose dressers
Aston’s around us
Toss another rounder, but if I fail
Will they catch me before the ground does?
Who your real friends and friends by technicality?
They ask how your mama is or ask for a salary
[Hook - Big Sean]
Woopty Doo!
Homie say he caked up
Woopty Doo!
Just bought an Escalade truck
Woopty Doo!
You put some 26s on it
Woopty Doo!
Yo shit be looking pretty, don’t it?
Woopty Doo!
You hit the club and make it rain
Woopty Doo!
You spend like 50 on a chain
But every 365 bro, you get a little wiser
And realize all that stupid shit you bought was lame
Cause it dont mean shit, when you’re out here on your own
Cause it dont mean shit, when them Feds run in your home
Cause it dont mean shit, if you can’t take care of your kids
Cause it dont mean shit, Man, f-ck what ya did
I tell em:
Woopty Doo! Woopty Doo! Woopty Doo!
I tell em:
Woopty Doo! Woopty Doo! Woopty Doo!
[Verse 3 - Cyhi]
Patience is better than pride
So I’m riding factory without the leather inside
Half of y’all ain’t got a car to put leather inside
Plus, the smaller the rim, the better the ride!
Suckers talk, but I never reply
Don’t hate, cause I’ve never been a confederate guy
So when I die, I look God dead in the eye
He said I got a room for you and a bed in the sky
But y’all can’t get no capital cause your priorities f-cked up
Part of the minority cause majority of us
Die by the gun and let authorities cuff us
Everyday is like Glory to us, bruh
So keep it cool shawty, let’s see the tool shawty
Say they gangsta’s but they ain’t never made the news shawty
Call me St Lou’ cause I’m giving you the blues shawty
If you see me in the Lamb’, than you know that boo bought it
I was blessed to leave these streets
I took my furlough when I was 3 weeks deep
A lot of robbing if you not a goblin
I sold weed, but my partner rock a robbin like
“Twee lee lee”
I had the kush you wont admit you had the CGB
Yeah, so take it serious when you getting money
Ain’t shit funny, nigga, “hee hee hee!”

YC ft Various Artists - Racks on Racks (Extended) Remix Lyrics

YC ft Young Jeezy, Wiz Khalifa, Waka Flocka Flame, Cyhi The Prynce, Bun B, B.o.B, Dose, Wale, Cory Gunz, Yo Gotti, Cory Mo, Nelly, Twista, Trae Tha Truth & Ace Hood - Racks on Racks Remix Lyrics:

YC!
(What you got?) Racks on racks on racks
(He got) Racks on racks on racks
(We got) Racks on racks on racks
(Leggo)
(Hey) We got racks on racks on racks
(She got) Racks on racks on racks
(They got) Racks on racks on racks
Got campaign goin’ so strong
Gettin’ brain when I’m talkin’ on the phone
Spendin’ money when your money is long
Real street niggas, ain’t no clone
We at the top where we belong
Drink lean, rose, Patron
Smokin’ on a thousand dollars worth strong
When the club ’bout to hear this song
We got racks on racks on racks (Racks)
Racks on racks on racks (Racks)
Racks on racks on racks (Racks)
Got racks on racks on racks
Got racks on racks on racks (Racks)
Racks on racks on racks (Racks)
Racks on racks on racks
Nigga, I ain’t even tryna hold back
YC
Still fresh, yeah, and in my Trues
Iced out, okay, cool
Trapped up, know I keep that tool
That racks on racks so ma’fuckin’ fool
All around the globe, bein’ on TV
Everywhere you look, you see YC
Hatin’-ass niggas just wishin’ they were me
YC, YC, YC
Way too big for my ma’fuckin’ jeans
I’m so fly I don’t even got wings
Eyes real low, just blame it on the green
Girl cut up, got lean on lean
That shoebox shit, over with
She put it on the rack, won’t notice it
My bank ‘count, commas all over it
Racks on racks on racks
Young Jeezy
Young, if it’s convertible, then how is it a hardtop?
Bitch, I hit one button, my roof open like a hard spot
Make me throw my diamonds up, bitch, my life was hard knock
Had so much kush and Ciroc, bitch, I think my heart stop
Every night’s a weekend, every day’s a Friday night
You ain’t seen nothin’ yet, bitch, this just my Friday ice
’87, brick fare, yeah, I’m talkin’ thirty racks
All I sold is hundos, where the fuck my twenties at?
Wiz Khalifa
Racks on, racks off, see that blonde stripper, my hat’s off
Lookin’ at my Rollie, ’bout thirty grand what that cost
Smoke like I’m in Cali, fuck takin’ flight, I blast off
Niggas talkin’ tattooes, we should have a tat-off
Got racks on racks on racks, naps on naps on naps
Just made a mill, count another mill, so put that on top of that
Way back in 2004, I told ‘em it was a wrap
Now my life ain’t my life no more, I told you, nigga, it’s a wrap
Oooh, you claim you a dog, my nigga, I’m the vet
We can’t even talk ‘less you got the check, I guess that’s why all of these niggas get bent
They said “Fuck a young nigga, fuck a young nigga”
I know it’s some girls in the crowd right now who wanna fuck a young nigga
I roll one and roll another one bigger
Niggas thinkin’ they sick, well, I’m sicker
I’ma smoke my weed and I’ma drink my liquor
Better make sure you fuck your girl right ‘fore I dick her
Down
Waka Flocka Flame
(Flocka!)
I got racks on top of racks (Uh!), stacks on top of stacks (Uh!)
Bands on top of bands (Uh!), got me fuckin’ her (Uh!) and her friends (Flocka!)
Bad boys don’t do papers (Flex!), that was just for (Flex!) my haters (Clap!)
(Clap, clap, go, go, go, go, go, Flocka!) Clap two times if you druuuunk
Got a bad bitch from the U.K. (Okay!)
She do everything I say (Okay!)
Go crazy when she hear music (Grove Street!)
She got “Grove St.” on replay (Flocka!)
Got racks you don’t understand (Uh-huh)
Money long from here to Japan (Uh-huh)
Know it good when she go no hands
Girl, you got me in a trance
Got campaign goin’ so strong
Gettin’ brain when I’m talkin’ on the phone
Spendin’ money when your money is long
Real street niggas, ain’t no clone
We at the top where we belong
Drink lean, rose, Patron
Smokin’ on a thousand dollars worth strong
When the club ’bout to hear this song
We got racks on racks on racks (Racks)
Racks on racks on racks (Racks)
Racks on racks on racks (Racks)
Got racks on racks on racks
Got racks on racks on racks (Racks)
Racks on racks on racks (Racks)
Racks on racks on racks
Nigga, I ain’t even tryna hold back
Cyhi The Prynce
Got racks on racks on racks, y’all rap so wack on wax
Purple by the pound, that’s that Flacco, haaaa
I make big plays, I got big chips
Blue money like six Crips
Switch gears like stick shifts
Fresh as hell, no Big Kipp
We buy cars, y’all flip whips
Catch us smokin’ that quick trip
Pitch piff, that’s a handspring
I like to call that a quick flip
Pull triggers like hamstrings
Boy, I’m doin’ my damn thing
Baby blood with them bricks, pimp
Get off a key like I can’t sing
Got the seven on me like big jersey
Ridin’ round, and this bitch dirty
I’m the best, hands down
They nicknamed me 6:30
I’m wit’ Young Dose and YC
Readell Road, that’s my street
Ask around on the Eastside
I’m the s-h-i-t
Bun B
Bun B, I’m underground king
In the candy-painted car on swang
With the top on drop and the trunk on pop
Boy, you can’t tell me a damn thang
Fifth wheel on the back just hang
Hit corners, hit licks, hit stains
With the grill in the front, wood wheel in the blunts
You’re on neon lights in my bank
Yeah, I rep that P-A-T
One hundred, yeah, that’s me
If you don’t recognize, you gon’ see
I’m a straight-up trill OG
In a black-on-black-on-black
Cadillac, like a Mack on clacks
Try to jack and I will attack
It’s a fact that I ain’t givin’ up my stacks like that
B.o.B
Call me Bobby Ray, but it’s not two names
Flyin’ through the city, all-black, Bruce Wayne
No, not bombs over Baghdad
But on the track, you can call me Hussein
That’s why they nervous, hmmm, like I’m flyin’ on the plane with a turban
But I’m fly, y’all just turbulence, exit row, emergency (Mayday!)
As a kid, I was struck by lightning, it’s no wonder I’m electrifying
Fuck a brainstorm, I’ll fuck around and cause a power outage
And it ain’t no rivals, if it was, it’d be no survivors
Just gimme a hour, I’ll light it up like an Eiffel Tower
Yo Gotti
Got bills on top of bills, scales on top of scales
I’m Mr. All White, got yell’ on top of yell’
Got pills all on my phone, these niggas know I’m wrong
Said 50 for a song, and they won’t leave me ‘lone
Gotta front me a brick, that ain’t nothin’ to you
Just ran through a ticket, there ain’t nothin’ to do
Yeah, I love these streets like I love the booth
Mr. Cocaine Music, I’m 100 proof
Got white on white on white, ice on ice on ice
And when I’m in the club it look like lights on lights on lights
Got campaign goin’ so strong
Gettin’ brain when I’m talkin’ on the phone
Spendin’ money when your money is long
Real street niggas, ain’t no clone
We at the top where we belong
Drink lean, rose, Patron
Smokin’ on a thousand dollars worth strong
When the club ’bout to hear this song
We got racks on racks on racks (Racks)
Racks on racks on racks (Racks)
Racks on racks on racks (Racks)
Got racks on racks on racks
Got racks on racks on racks (Racks)
Racks on racks on racks (Racks)
Racks on racks on racks
Nigga, I ain’t even tryna hold back
Wale
Racks on racks on racks, I’m tryna smash and not call back
My name Wale, you so silly, wet my willie, might call you a cab
Yeah, ridin’ around wit’ that reefer scent, ridin’ around with Ms. Reece and them
When I’m in the groove, I can freak a tune, I’m smoother than alopecia skin
I shows out, like dope when I put that flow down
Like soap when I put my clothes on, I’m jokin’, but I be Foamed out
And all she want is more bags, but all I want is more 1s
I told her “Bring that money back” like all them racks is Nordstrom’s
Cory Gunz
The tracks on snack off raps, see stacks from back of my slacks
From the X to the MACs in the Ac, if I ain’t strapped, then the gats on scat
Then he black on ‘em like Tae Bo, then he clap on ‘em like bravo
Throw sacks on ‘em like y’all hoes, got racks on ‘em like tight hoes
Young Money, Cash Money so strong, keep scorin’, I’ma bring it on home
Those Xans and the lean cause zones, somethin’ tan with a mean jawbone
Worldwide, but I got fourth ways, one hat carry like four blades
Petey Pop Off, RIP, free Lou, been lootin’ money since like fourth grade
I’m the shit nowadays, so they wave, no whips, no chains, I’m a slave
Let you niggas know Milita my gang, MCN if you was thinkin’ it’s a game
See me with the twin, buck a shimmy with the gauge
Wasn’t bustin’ Jimmy, I’d be busy gettin’ paid
Goin’ for the grips every day ’til the grave
I be worried about chips, you be worried about the Lay’s
Bitch
Dose
Got Activist in my Sprite, Benjamins in my Robins
Frank Muller wit’ flooded ice, but I still got my brightness
In the fast lane, gettin’ slow brain in a 2012 Maserati
I’m kickin’, pimpin’, like Liu Kang, my coupe smokin’ like Friday
Puffin’ on that garlic, sick off all the Marley
Inked up on my hands and arms, got them jams in my pocket
Shout out to Sha Money, signed me in a hurry
Daddy was a kingpin, a couple milli buried
Nigga, you ain’t talkin’ nothin’, all in Flight Corps stuntin’
These exclusive 7s, pay 400 for the Jordans
No, you can’t afford ‘em, sharper than a swordsman
Racks on racks, our campaign strong, and YC like my brother
Cory Mo
Catch me in the city with the trunk on crack
Top dropped down, black on black
Fistful of wood, twisted for the good
Check my bank account, got racks on racks
Look around, fool, got a wall full of plaques
Platinum and gold, you gots to love that
Posted up just like a thumbtack
Better hide ya ho, ’cause she bound to get snatched
H-Town, Texas to ATL
She got a fat ass, she prolly know me well
Keep it on the low, never kiss and tell
True player, Cory Mo cold as hell
Shows to do, got records to sell
Got a whole lotta BMI checks in the mail
If ballin’ was a crime, I’d be in jail
Locked up for double life like “What the hell?”
Got campaign goin’ so strong
Gettin’ brain when I’m talkin’ on the phone
Spendin’ money when your money is long
Real street niggas, ain’t no clone
We at the top where we belong
Drink lean, rose, Patron
Smokin’ on a thousand dollars worth strong
When the club ’bout to hear this song
We got racks on racks on racks (Racks)
Racks on racks on racks (Racks)
Racks on racks on racks (Racks)
Got racks on racks on racks
Got racks on racks on racks (Racks)
Racks on racks on racks (Racks)
Racks on racks on racks
Nigga, I ain’t even tryna hold back
Nelly
Yeah, they call me Country Grammar, my brother out the slammer
I’m crimson color painted, you can call that Alabama
I’m not from Alabama, but check out how I roll tide
He might have the same whip, but check out how I roll mine
Y’all niggas ain’t no stars, y’all only in it for the cars
The sky is your limit, mayne, and mine somewhere ’bout Mars
I ride wit’ them boys in the middle of the map
St. Louis, Detroit, Chi-town, Nap
Down to the Dirty, back up through the trap
But the money don’t stack, man, money overlap
Yeah, y’all better watch it, mayne, right here we lock and load
Two things is for certain, mayne, and one thing is fa sho’
Got a house on hundred acres, I’ve never seen my neighbors
A chick in ATL and from Buckhead to Decatur
Now y’all better leave me alone, got license for my chrome
Don’t lease or your mama phone talkin’ ’bout “Yo’ baby gone!”
Tell the truth, I ain’t gon’ lie, I got so many rides
Don’t know which one I’ma drive, fuck it, I’m just gon’ fly
Twista
Everybody wanna hate because I’m on, blowin’ head back, bottles by the zone
Twista finna get up on the track and spit it the way I do simp-a-ly because I like this song
When I step up out the Maserati car, gotta pull it, pull it, pull it, pull it from the jar
Then I blow, I’ma close out the par’, wit’ some killers and everybody know who we are
Get Money Gang steppin’ through the do’, Chi-cago, cago, cago
Anybody wanna get into it, come on and do it, for security, we gon’ make ‘em pull the flo’
Might as well get it off yo’ chest, while everybody got ammunition on deck
I don’t see them T-Dum-Izzle as a threat, ’cause I got racks on racks on racks
Oh, Twista, I see your future, finna shoot ya, I salute you if you could get at the general in my military
Racks and racks and tracks and stacks and gats, I could destroy an entire village when I kill and bury
‘Cause I manipulate your molecular structure, other words, fill ‘em up wit’ holes
If you try to give it to me at the door, I just thought I had to let you know
Big Sean
(I bet your bitch call me Big)
I got single bitches tryin’, married bitches lyin’
I take ‘em to the crib and leave our future in a condom
I wake up fresher than these motherfuckers as is
Look inside my closet, that shit look like it’s Raks Fifth
Man, that’s racks on racks on racks on top of packs on top of pounds
My chains is pow on pow on pow, I’m off them trees, no eye, no ow
I’m at the altar sayin’ my vows to this Benjamin Franklin power
You buy her a house, I won’t buy her a vowel, you fell in love, and I fell in her mouth
They called her Dickface, she called her connect
(Called her connect) You call her collect
I call to collect, no need for a pet
If I throw this paper, yo’ bitch gon’ fetch
(Do it!) B-i-g
And the track gon’ be aight as long as we got me
(I do it)
Trae
I’m the hood if you wondered where I’m at (Where I’m at)
In the back of a Chevy that’s all black (All black)
Racks on racks, I don’t know how to act (Act)
Track and field with the birds, I’m runnin’ ‘em like track (Track)
Free throws of money, bet you can’t blind (Blind)
King of the club, I bet you can’t top (Top)
Bitch niggas hate the fact I get guap (Guap)
Or the fact when the money go up, it won’t stop (Boy!)
I’m in the club, tryna show ‘em how to stunt (Stunt)
Tryna pick up what I’m throw, it prolly take about a month (Month)
The club underwater, have ‘em runnin’ out the front
While I’m somewhere in the back, gettin’ blowed like a blunt (Blunt)
No need to trip, you can tell ‘em that I’m cool as hell (Cool as hell)
‘Cause it’s the case I know the pack of pumas well (Pumas well)
I’m a blood motherfucker, that dude’ll tell (Dude’ll tell)
Got 47 ‘neath the old-school as well (School as well)
I got lights on my wrist that’ll flash like cop (Cops)
Couple of foreign cars that I ride no top (Tops)
Couple of whi-whips that I ride like yachts (Yachts)
A couple of haters lookin’, I’m knowin’ them niggas hot (Hot)
And tell ‘em that I don’t give a damn
Hard as a motherfucker, tell ‘em I was HAM
Call it what you want, I’ma do it for the fam
Yeah, that’s the type of nigga that I am
Ace Hood
Okay, I’m back off into this bitch (This bitch!)
Wit’ a cup, and it’s full of that liq’ (Hot!)
Got racks, ain’t talkin’ tits (Ew-way!)
Big stacks, no Lego bricks (Woo!)
Hit a trick and a fiendin’ nigga got it
I keep that hottie, just look at her body (Hey!)
Blew twenty bands in that King of Diamonds
Sorry, that’s just part of my hobby (Swoop!)
And I hear ‘em feelin’ my Florida swagger, so dope, shit, I sold y’all copies
That ice be onto my neck and wrist, now anybody wanna play some hockey
I’m that nigga in fact (In fact), paper tall as Shaq (Oh, boy!)
Blood, Sweat, and Tears, it’ll be on your local Walmart rack
Soon
Got campaign goin’ so strong
Gettin’ brain when I’m talkin’ on the phone
Spendin’ money when your money is long
Real street niggas, ain’t no clone
We at the top where we belong
Drink lean, rose, Patron
Smokin’ on a thousand dollars worth strong
When the club ’bout to hear this song
We got racks on racks on racks (Racks)
Racks on racks on racks (Racks)
Racks on racks on racks (Racks)
Got racks on racks on racks
Got racks on racks on racks (Racks)
Racks on racks on racks (Racks)
Racks on racks on racks
Nigga, I ain’t even tryna hold back

Bobby V - Issues Ft. CyHi Da Prynce Lyrics

Bobby V - Issues Ft. CyHi Da Prynce Lyrics:

For the love of money!

Yeah!

Oh, yeah!

Chorus:

Gotta get dat money!

..it’s still the same, oh!

Gotta get dat money!

I’m a money savior!

I love my money!

…

I got a girl name Cheryl, an American girl,

Wanna go to Mr. Charles, but she…

My girl named Jenny,

I was in my Lamborghini,

When I was out in Miami

She always came to see me!

Got a girl named Keisha,

She’s …

So I gave her…

…

I’ll make her a believer,

When I hit the king of diamonds,

They all got us…

Chorus:

By any means I gotta… for many things.

I wanna a…like Diddy,

But I’m happy dreaming dreams.

My maid is from the west

Kansas City…

Jacksons in the pockets of my Billie Jeans,

I gotta get the profit

When I’m selling onions,

Now I’m making chips

So what I smell is onions.

That’s when…

No more Washingtons!

…body holes,

For I’m trying to get some oxygen.

Niggers talking shit,

Can’t walk a day inside my Marxist ideology

…

That’s when I had to leave.

I believe that…

…

Cause to me is…

Chorus:

XV – All For Me ft CyHi Da Prynce & Vado Lyrics

XV – All For Me ft CyHi Da Prynce & Vado Lyrics:

[XV]

Could someone tell me who this is all for

and why I’m on the mirrors edge running on walls for?

20 biddies, one of Vizzy, this sh-t is uncalled for

but that girl with the ponytail she roll with the dark horse

and I deserve it, all my life I worked hard for

them other cats aint going in

that sh-t is soft porn

I overcame obstacles like Parkour

and if I got off course its only cause my banking is off shore

now I ask for dutches they give me double like jumping rope

never been a virgin cause I was always f-cking dope

doing something different I’m getting in convertibles

and I don’t spend a thing, so why I do feel vertigo

I’ll be in the cut, tell them girls lets get surgical

farenheit for 51, that paper we just burning through

create money for me to cremate money, I earn it too

do this look like work to you?

Nah

[Chorus]

Looking at the lights like is all of this for me?

everyone the night is here, all of this for me

hands in the air yeah, all of this for me

bottles over here, all of this for me

all of this for me (for me)

all of this for me (for me)

life fast, lights flash

all of this for me

all of this for me (for me)

all of this for me (for me)

models bringing bottles

yeah, all of this for me

[Cyhi Da Prynce]

you foreal, all of this for me?

p-ssy and the harlem weed, all of this for free?

we ball hogging like we balling for the heat

I did it first for passion, man this shit least cost a G

Warner Brother TIG, turn this bitch to Dawsons creek

Poppa Johns with the bread cause we in here tossing cheese

used to be broke as hell so I had to drop the streets

till I got saved by them bells like I walk a harder street

come and get your bitch cause your dog is off the leash

cause we know how to party man, they call us Boston Tea

plus I’m in an outfit that’s as sharp as Jaws’ teeth

snuck my Rose out the club, what you think these bottles cheap?

with a model, they call me baby Motown and Monique

n-ggas say I’m outta shape, cause my pockets is obese

I don’t care that’s your girl, all these bars in here are free

don’t make me pull my horns out like I’m flexing my obliques

[Chorus]

[Vado]

Hermes belt with a H buckle

beige bubble, stopping at her waist as she waits for you

stray bubble but her quiet storm like a tre muffle

age double, no forgetting money and straight hustle

fake muscles get you a off day

denim shirt be from All Saints

sleeves rolled I’m in beastmode

don’t get your boys spent

30 and your broads stank

got money from all banks

check clear, okay

leave, tell em all thanks

baking a tall cake, I’mma need me a war safe

mention got 4 gates, 3 pools and a small lake

quick to get it on time, I never call late

shorty crashed the car, she called me before all state

are you GBY, seagul when you see me fly

helicopters peedi pie, Aston Martins DB9

we ballin’ can’t you see

different cars at one time

I’m like all of this for me?

[Chorus]

[Erin Christine]

Now wait a minute, raise ya glass

lets toast to the, toast to the past

lights flash, lets be honest

and take all of this for me

yeah this shit was all I knew

you and me only

you take this all for me

baby don’t you see

a-a-all of this for me