67 – This Side

[Intro: LD]
Splurgeboys
Alla dat, alla dat

[Verse 1: Monkey]
Guns, money, jugs
Guns, money, jugs
Joogin’, joogin’, joogin’
The pigs they be lookin’
5-0 on a nigga on the wing with a [?], fuck them
Got ‘dem crack rocks in the alleyway, the traps gotta pay
Got money comin’ in hella ways
Big guns, still gotta trade
C Rose whippin’ up some yay
Gang shit sippin’ on some [?]
R6, yeah that’s my little nigga
Yeah my little nigga do you broad day
Lets lurk, two L’s up, get your bells up
What more can I say?

[Verse 2: ASAP]
Big spinner
Long nose ting got me feelin’ like a cowboy
Kway kway, with a hard pack
Tryna blend in like a white boy
.22 that’s a light toy
2 bells in that 12
Double tap, do him two times
Trap hard ’til I’m dead up
I need hella rackets and food lines
Smashin’ out FIFA, 25
Make a killin’ that’s every night
Huntin’ knife on a lurk
Lurkin’ ’round for a kill
Or a backpack with a 12
Best dash, duck and dive from these bells

[Hook: LD]
Niggas ain’t comin’ round this side
Big WAPS on the corner
Big bike, four door, real pushbike
67 pens are bustin’
Look at my chest, look how it sits right
.44 keep it safe, in skengs we trust
We don’t know about fist fights
Swear these bruddas ain’t learning
.44 corn just burn him
These niggas ain’t comin’ round here
Won’t go around there ’cause 67 lurking
Swear these bruddas ain’t learning
.44 corn just burn him
These niggas ain’t comin’ round here
Won’t go around there ’cause 67 lurking
These niggas ain’t comin’ round this side

[Verse 4: Dimzy]
Scales out, clingfilm and stones
If you’re talking tickets, yeah we sold out shows
Bro got tickets, said he sold out snow
Young days outside was cold
Big heat for the cause
‘Til we love the beef, too hot, too cold
I’ll slide on you anytime for bro
That’s big 40s and chunky stones
Feds on my case won’t leave me alone
(I gotta run now)
Hoes on my case won’t leave me alone
I’m smoking quickly, backwards roach
I’m fly, you’re high like a drone

[Verse 5: Liquez]
Don’t know about ‘dem but I’m livin’ my dream
I get racks from trap ’cause I cut down bits and bobs of green
I get racks from rap ’cause right now we’re wrapping up the music scene
Green, orange, blue notes are pink, know it true say I love the queen
No mileage, my Loobs’ are clean
Versace hoes at my Balmain jeans
She say you got sauce but no sauce like Liquez
67 gang, can’t source like we
No mileage, my Loobs’ are clean
Versace hoes at my Balmain jeans
She say you got sauce but no sauce like Liquez
67 gang, can’t source like we

[Hook: LD]
Niggas ain’t comin’ round this side
Big WAPS on the corner
Big bike, four door, real pushbike
67 pens are bustin’
Look at my chest, look how it sits right
.44 keep it safe, in skengs we trust
We don’t know about fist fights
Swear these bruddas ain’t learning
.44 corn just burn him
These niggas ain’t comin’ round here
Won’t go around there ’cause 67 lurking
Swear these bruddas ain’t learning
.44 corn just burn him
These niggas ain’t comin’ round here
Won’t go around there ’cause 67 lurking
These niggas ain’t comin’ round this side

[Outro]
Splurgeboys

Kodak Black – Reminiscing (Painting Pictures Album)

[Intro: Kodak Black]
Off the head, shit, you know what I’m saying
Blee, brr, off the dome, man, I’m in, ayy

[Verse 1: Kodak Black]
22 hours locked down, ain’t shit to do but think
I remember like it was yesterday, was drinkin’ out the sink
I’m sittin’ back plottin’, I’m just sittin’ back vibin’
A nigga can’t complain, I had to use my time wisely
I’m sleepin’ in a dorm, but they ain’t send me off to college
I still got money buried from that lick I hit in Raleigh
I’m book-smart but the streets gave me all my knowledge
So there ain’t nun’ for you when you comin’ out the projects
So there ain’t nun’ for you when you comin’ out the slum
A mouth full of gold teeth, they think a nigga dumb
I got a handful of dreads, think a nigga illiterate
But I know when I go to talk, a nigga’ll reconsider it
I know you niggas just tryna benefit
I ain’t fuckin’ with you a little bit
I ain’t fuckin’ with you at all
I ain’t fuckin’ with you at all
I was sellin’ weed in middle school, just meet me in the halls
Right now I’m goin’ in, but I was just behind the wall
This jail got me thinkin’, I feel like everybody flawed
I got too much to lose, but I’ll still go at a nigga jaw
I’m down for the count, I’m never down for the cause
I made a million dollars off of shows and goin’ hard

[Chorus: A Boogie Wit Da Hoodie]
I love money, I can’t go back to the bottom ’cause I
Hate it at the bottom, try to stop thinking about it
But, I’m reminiscing, yeah
I’m reminiscing, yeah
Fuck your problems, it’s too late to tell me sorry
I pulled up in a ‘rari, it don’t come with no apologies
I’m reminiscing, yeah
I’m reminiscing, yeah

[Verse 2: Kodak Black]
I remember everythin’, I done been through everythin’
I remember who shitted on me, or who been in the paint
Like Ray J, got a bitch from the Bronx givin’ me brain
Like Ray J, I done walked through the motherfuckin’ rain
Right now I done got too far to give a motherfucker a feature
I’m the freshest man in high school, but I’m a motherfuckin’ senior
Lil’ shawty want to kick it, I told her I don’t play FIFA
I jumped up out the Beamer, now I’m slidin’ in the regal
That pussy so tight but I be tryna go deeper
If she can make moolah, she a motherfuckin’ keeper
Reminiscin’ about my niggas, reminiscin’ about my homies
I’m thinkin’ ’bout my niggas, I’m thinkin’ ’bout my whoadies
I don’t fuck with Fooly no more but I still fuck with Cody
Got a booger in my nose, A Boogie on the chorus
A young nigga, I jumped off the porch, run Forrest
I’ll lose it about that money, I’ll go dumb for it
I’m workin’ like a Mexican, fuck around and get deported
I bought my mama a crib, thirty clip in my forty
She said that my baby, I told that bih let’s go to Maury
Lame niggas get extorted, if it ain’t foreign then it’s borin’

[Chorus: A Boogie Wit Da Hoodie]
I love money, I can’t go back to the bottom ’cause I
Hate it at the bottom, try to stop thinking about it
But, I’m reminiscing, yeah
I’m reminiscing, yeah
Fuck your problem, it’s too late to tell me sorry
I pulled up in a ‘Rari, it don’t come with no apologies
I’m reminiscing, yeah
I’m reminiscing, yeah
Reminiscing, yeah
I’m reminiscing, yeah

Play your position – Skippa da Flippa lyrics

Lyrics Skippa da Flippa – Play your position

Lately I been countin’ Franklin’s
First class flight to go to London
Back then I was the only gunman
Chase the paper like I’m hunting
Better play your position
My favorite room in here the kitchen
I rock presidential like Nixon
Grip the hammer when a nigga start tripping
First go learn your position
Then play your position, play your position
This for the trap niggas
That bag up the eight ball and pass with precision
First go learn your position
Then play your position, play your position
Bake the pot, take it out, I don’t need mittens
Soak up the game, all you gotta do is listen.

Free all my niggas that got caught lackin’ on a mission
Lately they been sayin’ Boat you trippin’
I been tryna count a hundred plus
Six freak b*tches on a tour bus and they all tryna f*ck with us
If I pick her out, boy I bet she buss
d*ck so good it make her cuss
Chopper my brother, he bust at your mother
Grill in my mouth looking like a lil muffler
Gold on my neck like a bowl full of mustard
Eat on that pussy just like a little custard
I tint my windows when I go see Oscar
These niggas acting, they deserve an Oscar
And she hate bro because I’m a dog
I’m a lil dog just like a lil boxer
Just know your role and play your position
Diamonds water, look like I been fishing
These niggas be cappin’, they really not whipping
Skippa told me you is not in the kitchen
Worry ’bout mines but hold ya own
Old ass nigga, money not even long
Bad b*tch walkin’ ’round in a thong
I’ma bust it then I send her ass home.

Lately I been countin’ Franklin’s
First class flight to go to London
Back then I was the only gunman
Chase the paper like I’m hunting
Better play your position
My favorite room in here the kitchen
I rock presidential like Nixon
Grip the hammer when a nigga start tripping
First go learn your position
Then play your position, play your position
This for the trap niggas versuri-lyrics.info
That bag up the eight ball and pass with precision
First go learn your position
Then play your position, play your position
Bake the pot, take it out, I don’t need mittens
Soak up the game, all you gotta do is listen.

If you’s a ho, you’s a ho, just play your role
Break the pot, speed it up, stop it, then go
Smoke a blunt, break a bag, kick out the door
I made me a mil ’round the globe
The chopper is only protection, drive the Lam’ like a Mexican
Make lil baby suck it in the Masi
While I’m rollin’ up, switchin’ lanes, textin’
Yeah I got shooters just like Villanova
Triple cup codeine, I don’t need a coaster
She talk to a rapper but she told me over and over that she think a young nigga colder
She play a role, she know I don’t need her
I’m a player, I’ma kick it like FIFA
Trap RBI higher than Derek Jeter
You follow the Flippa, you follow the leader
Learn your roll and then you play the position
You f*ck with the gang then you might end up missing
How many hundreds can you get for a chicken?
I teach you the game if you willing to listen
Flippa!

Lately I been countin’ Franklin’s
First class flight to go to London
Back then I was the only gunman
Chase the paper like I’m hunting
Better play your position
My favorite room in here the kitchen
I rock presidential like Nixon
Grip the hammer when a nigga start tripping
First go learn your position
Then play your position, play your position
This for the trap niggas
That bag up the eight ball and pass with precision
First go learn your position
Then play your position, play your position
Bake the pot, take it out, I don’t need mittens
Soak up the game, all you gotta do is listennn.
Skippa da Flippa lyrics
Video position

Train – What Good Is Saturday (A Girl, A Bottle, A Boat Album)

[Verse 1]
What good is Saturday if you’re not here to stay
"I made you French toast and coffee, come over"?
When ya’ coming back to California?
Baby, I’m hungry

[Pre-Chorus 1]
Your mail is piling up, I heard the weather’s rough
I know your mama’s going crazy, like always
Crying you a river like Salt Lake
Can’t wait ’til Sunday

When you land, I’ll be waiting on the runway
Flowers in my hands, tears in my eyes

[Chorus]
‘Cause I was up all night
Thinking ’bout your homemade dishes
Fantasizing all those kisses
Oh, and I was up all night
Thinking ’bout the lonely weekend
Monday, baby, we can sleep in
Ooh, ooh, ooh
Without you
What good is Saturday?
What good is Saturday?
What good is Saturday?
What good is Saturday?
What good is Saturday?

[Verse 2]
Hey, it’s me again, don’t know how long it’s been
I just sent you a picture of me and Rover
Ten emojis, hungover
Baby, I’m lonely

[Pre-Chorus 2]
Think George is coming by to help me kill some time
I know you worry ’bout me when I’m with Lopez
Something always seems to get broken
I’ll fix it on Sunday

When you land, I’ll be waiting on the runway
Flowers in my hands, tears in my eyes

[Chorus]
‘Cause I was up all night
Thinking ’bout your homemade dishes
Fantasizing all those kisses
Oh, and I was up all night
Thinking ’bout the lonely weekend
Monday, baby, we can sleep in
Ooh, ooh, ooh
Without you
What good is Saturday?
What good is Saturday?
What good is Saturday?
What good is Saturday?
I don’t know

[Bridge]
Cartoons ain’t funny no more
Cap’n Crunch tastes like cardboard
Keeping up with the FIFA scores
It’s no fun without you

[Chorus]
Oh, and I was up all night
Thinking ’bout your so hot biscuits
Hope you know how much I miss it
Oh, and I was up all night
Thinking ’bout the lonely weekend
Monday, baby, hope we can sleep in
Oh, oh, ooh
Without you
What good is Saturday?
What good is Saturday?
Oh, baby, oh, baby
Nothing

Kanye West – Ass Shots Lyrics

[Intro: Kanye West]
I don’t know why niggas tripping on a nigga
For clippers, I hate you niggas too
But I’m black and Mexican, we gon’ change that, haha
I hate you niggas too!

[Hook: Kanye West]
If you ain’t had good pussy, nigga, try some
Your girl ain’t got no ass, she need to buy one
Out west, Southwest, where you fly from
New Jersey, Teterboro where I fly from
You ain’t got no Ghost, you need to drive one
That bitch is so broke, try to find some
And she ain’t got no money, tryna find some
I swear these bitches funny, hahaha
Hahaha, hahaha
I swear these bitches funny, hahaha
Hahaha, hahaha
You still owe me money, nigga, yeah, yeah

[Verse 1: French Montana]
Got a bad bitch at build-a-body
Get a bad bitch and build a body
When your pop, the slim nigga shady
When your pop was Slim, I was Baby
I came for them chips like I’m K.D
Came for them bricks like I’m Maisie
We hit up the trap which is booming
Hustle, French John Newman
Fuck making the move, we the movie
Fuck the whole group, I’m a groupie
All that money rolling through the lobby
VVS is dripping off my body
You can do what you want when you got it
Go get a bitch and then build her body
They wanted Versace Milan
We do what we want and then copy
Smack a Roley on my arm
Skrrr, middle fingers to the feds
Put a hundred dollars on your head
Price of life hit you
And all my dawgs gotta eat
And all the money get divided
Snipe game be the wildest
Get a bad bitch, build her body
Get a bad bitch, build her body, haan

[Hook: Kanye West]
If you ain’t had good pussy, nigga, try some
Your girl ain’t got no ass, she need to buy one
Out west, Southwest, where you fly from
New Jersey, Teterboro where I fly from
You ain’t got no Ghost, you need to drive one
That bitch is so broke, try to find some
And she ain’t got no money, tryna find some
I swear these bitches funny, hahaha
Hahaha, hahaha
I swear these bitches funny, hahaha
Hahaha, hahaha
You still owe me money, nigga, yeah, yeah

[Verse 2: Cam’ron]
Harlem to the death, I’mma forever front
A problem with the kid is what you never want
That’s what you want, I had my niggas waiting for you
Like you sitting at a table in a restaurant
Slice you like pizza, I keep six in the squeezer
My jewelry is nice, dressing is iced
It’s how you can sit in the freezer
Keep my dick in the diva, word, no problem licking it either
Baby girl could be a believer, we could just kick it like FIFA
All the women heavy like pallbearer
That Henney got that cake like Carvel
Carvel, me, I’mma die
Inside the pussy, man, I know just how Lamar felt
My bitch sit on me flat without no tummy tuck
She no stripper but all she do is pick money up
Five-o called me over, word to my homie, I ain’t tell ’em shit
He seemed aggy, so all I did was tell him this

[Hook: Kanye West]
If you ain’t had good pussy, nigga, try some
Your girl ain’t got no ass, she need to buy one
Out west, Southwest, where you fly from
New Jersey, Teterboro where I fly from
You ain’t got no Ghost, you need to drive one
That bitch is so broke, try to find some
And she ain’t got no money, tryna find some
I swear these bitches funny, hahaha
Hahaha, hahaha
I swear these bitches funny, hahaha
Hahaha, hahaha
You still owe me money, nigga, yeah, yeah