B.o.B - F*cked Up Ft. Playboy Tre Lyrics

B.O.B. drops the official video for F*cked Up featuring Playboy Tre. Lyrics Below.

B.o.B - F*cked Up Ft. Playboy Tre Lyrics:

i’ve lost control
and i’ve lost my soul
i stand so cold
cause i’ve lost control!

chorus:
is that’s why you think i’m cool,
because i get fucked up, fucked up?
is that’s why you think i’m cool,
because i get fucked up, fucked up?
is that why?
is that why?
is that’s why you think i’m cool,
because i get fucked up, fucked up?

way too fucked up obviously
but that’s what just happens when the bottles are free
prestige like an older man
i’m laid up in the sweet like solomon
you all just following.
i’m half way across the world, it just occurred to me
i look down, wallet full of currency
table full of shots, that’s courtesy
brought niggers fake bowling, that’s perjure.
i do my thing certainly
one black, one asian, the adversity
i got a girl, she got a girl, we doing both concomitantly
i wanna see ‘em lips move, and i ain’t talking verbally!
i’m at the peak, man
i’m hon, kong high! you wanna see me falling, i don’t know why
i’m getting… at the hon kong spot
and the world keeps spinning, but i don’t know why.

chorus:
is that’s why you think i’m cool,
because i get fucked up, fucked up?
is that’s why you think i’m cool,
because i get fucked up, fucked up?
is that’s why you think i’m cool,
because i get fucked up, fucked up?
is that’s why you think i’m cool,
because i get fucked up, fucked up?


first class down my ass, don’t know how to act
tell a broad with a big… bring a …
i need a lot of that, hustle with, party hard
i can’t see you fuck boys…
hon-kong, nice girls, international speaking
..international drinking
living life, stop soaring, make a …
hit a freak on one… call it captain morgan
you all are hater, while we all lean
getting hurt with the true fucking…
make it take controls off, i need…
and don’t be stringent with that stuff, cause we all friends!
tell me som freaking,
i kiss my home girl, we’re out of here.. in my own world!
call it… over no fat jesus
your truly, mr. pat belly, good evening!

chorus:
is that’s why you think i’m cool,
because i get fucked up, fucked up?
is that’s why you think i’m cool,
because i get fucked up, fucked up?
is that’s why you think i’m cool,
because i get fucked up, fucked up?
is that’s why you think i’m cool,
because i get fucked up, fucked up?

B.o.B - Epic ft. Playboy Tre & Meek Mill Lyrics

B.o.B - Epic ft. Playboy Tre & Meek Mill Lyrics:

[B.o.B:]
You know who it is without a doubt of hesitation
If money talks I got my masters in communication
But you can't hold a conversation
Probably find me burning something good you can call that Smoking Aces
Compliment the chef in the lab making greatness
Ain't a thing changed but the number on the statement
NBA resume, baller's my occupation
Kush so loud I can't hear what was you saying
Praise yo solo that the freaks in the backseat
Get a thrill off the alpine when it vibrate they ass cheeks
I'm Bobby Ray baby an all American athlete
I run and leap and jump and... like a track
Yeah that ought to do it
Give it that Carl Lewis
I got the magic baby call me George Lucas
I'm so prolific but my flow's so foolish
These niggas making moves my niggas making movies wait

[Playboy Tre:]
Wile like a crazy mic
Clean like a baby wipe
Y'all just a momma boy sleeping with a baby like
My ex say I'm a dick cause my mind frank cocky
Up in... drinking all the sake
Damn right I want a double fried rice
I'm getting bread I put my dick up in your face
Your face'll look like...
Girls call me Tre day
I'm looking for pay day
My squad's got more bottle poppin' niggas than the AA
Liquor and wheelbarrow foolish as Will Ferrell
But I ain't got a step brother, I fuck your step mother
I cussed cause I like it bitch
Fuck hoe mother fucker
You mad cause I'm balling, life as a mother fucker
Your son is a leprichaun so hater live life a little
New shit dropping soon "Patron & Instrumental"
It's Tre, My flow won't quit til I say it ends

[B.o.B:]
Don't roll with pussy niggas, we call them va-jeanas
That's why your girl choosing don't pray I never meet her
I tap her on the head and say you know the procedure
You just mad with no bitch cause I'm chilling with your bitch
She through out your mixtape but she knows my whole disc
My flow's sick, I'm a poet, Edgar Allen Poe shit
Haters be getting defensive like 4th down and show blitz
But I don't bun it, I run it for a hundred
Ever since I was a young 'un, been hungry as Paul Bunyon
I'm the shit so fix the plumbing
I'ma beast and the game's 200
And if this ain't what you call hip-hop you must be bungee jumping
I'm smoking on... some of you call that chronic
Hennessey in my vomit cause the night before...
Lil C got that beat bumping so you can hear me drumming
I remains by the way eastside of the A just incase anyone was wondering bitch

[Meek Mill:]
Ohh I'm a mother fucking beast
All my haters rest in peace
I make a hundred on the money and go hard the rest of week
Pray on niggas like a Sunday
See your artist that's a feast
I got like 30 in the chalk I let you pussies...
It was me and old Melly in this game levy
Swagger on the finish, I think I'm Andretti
I push you to the limit get 'em haters gassed heavy
Wait a minute I'm a menace
Shout out to the winners
I'm just getting started and niggas at they end 
And errbody say I'm hot but I've been hot since the beginning
I be with a bitch that looks like Kim Kardashian...

B.o.B - Bet I ft. T.I. & Playboy Tre Lyrics & Video

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B.o.B - Bet I ft. T.I. & Playboy Tre Lyrics:

[Chorus - B.o.B]

Put me on anything still I bet I bust

Put me anywhere on the map I bet I bust

This is what I does so, please don’t gas me up

Matter of fact, gimme 15 minutes and a bag of bud

I bet I bust

I bet I bust (I, I)

I bet I bust

I bet I, I bet I,(bust)

I bet I bust

I bet I bust (I, I)

Matter of fact, gimme 15 minutes and a bag of bud I bet I bust

[B.o.B]

Bust, bust, bu-bu-bust

Yeah, on bud, bet I bust

Thats just what I does, yes

Put me anywhere on the map with a backpack strapped

Still I bet I bust

Bet I flow

Bet I rip this beat

Bet I feel that soul

Bet I go

Bet I bench these n-ggas like Ray, sit down bro!

Bet I know, everything about this game

Bet I know my role

Plus they know when I come to the court this is my sport

B dot o, B

So, bet I go

Bet I’m on a brand new plane

Bet I’m in a whole different zone

I ain’t really from this place

So im up all night long

Really I’m in outterspace

Really I ain’t got no home

Really I’m a saint

Bet I’m blown,

Bet I’m thrown, up to the sky

Over the ocean

So I fly wherever I’m goin

When I’m by, bet I’m focused

If it’s five, you can bet I roll it

Matter of fact, you can bet I bust

[Chorus - B.o.B]

[T.I]

Drive a brown parkin center

The king from the emma(?)

The room with the boom in the booth, I deliver

The hottest, you prolly too small to acknowledge you

Impossible to copy like what everybody try to do

We cool as some dudes on them waves out in Malibu

I’m ballin hard baseline, fall through the alley-oop

BAM!

Comin through this thang like James in the air off the bare of my hand

N-gga jus can’t. pretend you forgot my name if you wanna

I’ma come hard like a bar?

Dawn?

Make a n-gga wanna rebound, turnt up, all the way, hey (?)

2 or 3 tramp

Put em in the ? bentley

N-gga say he do it like us, he should mean 96, 97

in Atlanta have more blocks than Mutombo

For those who can’t hold water need a new kidney

Put it down under Australia, Sidney (bye)

lyrics courtesy of www.killerhiphop.com

And I’m still representing,

For the n-ggas under prison

You are tuned in, listenin

And I’m back to doing big things

A sucka lookin for me, start in yo bitch’(s) dreams

Thats why I’m 20 feet tall standing on the big screen

Get dough, get green, my flow sickening,

It’s the King n-gga!

[Chorus - B.o.B]

[Playboy Tre]

Yeah, back with a cup of that liquor, n-gga

yall don’t really know Tre,

Really know me,

Really know the streets, no!

Yall n-ggas really ain’t G,

Really ain’t hard,

Never really served no heart,

Yall be playin that roll

Talkin that pimp sh-t,

Never really pimp sh-t, nah

Yall be singin them hoes

But I don’t, and I won’t

I’ll get a bitch anytime I want

I’m that guy, spit that fire

Shake the ground everytime I stomp

Bit? in the trunk, cup in the air

You can talk sh-t but I really don’t care

Man I’m in the cadillac goin direct

Gonna clack that back? cuz a n-gga ain’t scared

I’m that red clay, East of the A?

Ya n-ggas get locked up everyday

Cops ain’t sh-t so I drop that sh-t

(?) make it through the day

Grindin for my pay

It’s that n-gga Tre

Bustin like a pistol best believe it when I say

That I bust!

[Chorus - B.o.B]

[End]