Yung Gravy – Knockout Lyrics

[Intro]
Gravy!
Ay ay ay ay ay
Gravy train nature boy Ric Flair pop shit
Think I’m Randy Savage when I hit you with that drop kick

[Chorus]
Hop in, walk out
Pipe up, clock out
New wrist, watch out
Lil bitch that’s a knock out
Hop in, walk out
Pipe up, clock out
New wrist, watch out
Lil bitch that’s a knock out
Hop in, walk out
Pipe up, clock out
New wrist, watch out
Lil bitch that’s a knock out
Hop in, walk out
Pipe up, clock out
New wrist, watch out
Lil bitch that’s a knock out

[Verse 1]
Ay bitch gravy back in business
Flexin on your mama till its motherfucking Christmas
I could take your bitch while I’m wearing all Gap
I could walk into your label take a nap
And still get racks
Dr. J fuck your sister everyday (ay)
I just beat your dad 5 times in croquet (ay ay)
Gravy don’t play (bitch)
Cook up a fucking fillet (bitch)
I had a coochie buffet
Back where I stay shit was gourmet (bitch)
Yung Gravity I come and pull your bitch (pull your bitch)
Your mama’s fantasy I come and scratch that itch (scratch that itch)
You a blasphemy if you be talking shit (talking shit)
Yung Catastrophe, landslide on your bitch (Woah)

[Chorus]
Hop in, walk out
Pipe up, clock out
New wrist, watch out
Lil bitch that’s a knock out
Hop in, walk out
Pipe up, clock out
New wrist, watch out
Lil bitch that’s a knock out
Hop in, walk out
Pipe up, clock out
New wrist, watch out
Lil bitch that’s a knock out
Hop in, walk out
Pipe up, clock out
New wrist, watch out
Lil bitch that’s a knock out

[Verse 2]
Bitch, it’s Mr. Clean, call me Dr. Pristine
When I walk across the water make it steam
I got water, I got trees, I got salsa, I got steeze
When I walk up in the building everyone get on they knees
Gravy make you feel like you off of the narcotics
When you really at your crib sipping Bombay with the tonic
Whenever I start talking, man that shit sounds so harmonic
Jumped through your bitch quick, think I’m fucking Sonic
Icicle mentality
Southern hospitality
Your sister’s ass got a lack of proportionality
Hit it anyway despite the impracticality
Gravy come through finesse your home, municipality

[Chorus]
Hop in, walk out
Pipe up, clock out
New wrist, watch out
Lil bitch that’s a knock out
Hop in, walk out
Pipe up, clock out
New wrist, watch out
Lil bitch that’s a knock out
Hop in, walk out
Pipe up, clock out
New wrist, watch out
Lil bitch that’s a knock out
Hop in, walk out
Pipe up, clock out
New wrist, watch out
Lil bitch that’s a knock out

21 Savage, Offset & Metro Boomin – Ric Flair Drip

Bijan 4 The 1 Time
Metro Boomin’ want some more, nigga!

[Offset:]
Going to the jeweler, bust the AP, yeah
Slide on the water like a jet-ski, yeah
I’m tryna fuck you and your bestie, yeah
Chopper with the scope so do not test me, yeah
Ric Flair drip go "woo" on a bitch
Fifty-seven ninety, split the coupe on my wrist
Multi-million dollar, I’m a fool with the hits
Hop up in the Lamb, and drop the roof, show the tits

Poppin’ but you really not ‘gone shoot
Ninety pointers [?] my diamonds look like hula hoops
Hope in my Bentayga, Hennessy [?] masseuse
Balenciaga, [?], Valentino boots
It’s the Boominati way, a lotta Lambs, a lotta Wraiths
Never hesitate to give a nigga yellow tape
And worry ’bout the bag ’cause the cash accumulate
Soon as we came in the game, all these niggas they imitate
Put my mind on it then I put my grind on it
Put the iron on it, if a nigga my opponent
My car five-hundred and I don’t put no miles on it
I was runnin’ ’round homie, with five-hundred thou’ on me

Going to the jeweler, bust the AP, yeah
Slide on the water like a jet-ski, yeah
I’m tryna fuck you and your bestie, yeah
Chopper with the scope so do not test me, yeah
Ric Flair drip go "woo" on a bitch
Fifty-seven ninety, split the coupe on my wrist
Multi-million dollar, I’m a fool with the hits
Hop up in the Lamb, and drop the roof, show the tits

Told the fam, "Got the gang with me"
Bought my purple [?], got some rain on it
Nigga, we used to kick it, how you hatin’ on me
Hop in the Bentley coupe and blow the brains out it
We not the same, my nigga
My nigga, we from the north division
Amateur brain, yeah we bought ya just like it’s an auction, ain’t it
Beat the chopper, hundred round total, like it’s apocalypse
I met your mandatory, I’m told that means I had to get it
My shooter keep begging "please," he’s ready to wack a nigga
I gave a nigga a diamond, I had to cap a nigga
I’m giving your ho away, like she a raffle, nigga
We go at it, then we ‘gone play with the plastic stretchers

Going to the jeweler, bust the AP, yeah
Slide on the water like a jet-ski, yeah
I’m tryna fuck you and your bestie, yeah
Chopper with the scope so do not test me, yeah
Ric Flair drip go "woo" on a bitch
Fifty-seven ninety, split the coupe on my wrist
Multi-million dollar, I’m a fool with the hits
Hop up in the Lamb, and drop the roof, show the tits

Going to the jeweler, bust the AP, yeah
Slide on the water like a jet-ski, yeah
I’m tryna fuck you and your bestie, yeah
Chopper with the scope so do not test me, yeah
Ric Flair drip go "woo" on a bitch
Fifty-seven ninety, split the coupe on my wrist
Multi-million dollar, I’m a fool with the hits
Hop up in the Lamb, and drop the roof, show the tits

Boss – Lil Pump lyrics

Lyrics Lil Pump – Boss

Yeah, I came in with the sauce, ooh
Yeah, I came in with the sauce, yeah
b*tch, I flex Rick Ross, yeah
b*tch, I flex Rick Ross, yeahhh
Yeah, I came in with the sauce, ooh
Yeah, I came in with the sauce, ooh
b*tch, I flex Rick Ross, yeah
b*tch, I flex Rick Ross, yeah
Walk in the trap like a boss, ooh
Walk in the trap like a boss
Walk in the trap like a boss, oooh
Walk in the trap like a boss
Yeah, I came in with the sauce, ooh
Yeah, I came in with the sauce, ooh
b*tch, I flex Rick Ross, ooh
b*tch, I flex Rick Ross, oohhh.

Walk in the trap, Ric Flair, ooh
f*ck a nigga b*tch don’t care, damn
Throwin’ up racks in the air, damn
Told that b*tch Lil Pump yeah, ooh
Damn, I just broke my wrist
100 on my wrist, can’t tell me s**t
Pop 4 xans then I f*cked a nigga’s b*tch
Never wearin’ slippers, I always flippin’ bricks
Aye, yeah I came up with the sauce damn
Damn, yeah I sold crack in the halls, damn
Lil Pump, bands on top
Gave my mom 2 Glocks
Versuri-lyrics.info
Damn, everybody do wanna be me
Lookin’ at my neck and its Fiji, ooh
Damn, everybody do wanna be me
Lookin’ at my neck and its Fiji, ooh.

Yeah, I came in with the sauce, ooh
Yeah, I came in with the sauce, yeah
b*tch, I flex Rick Ross, yeah
b*tch, I flex Rick Ross, yeah
Yeah, I came in with the sauce, ooh
Yeah, I came in with the sauce, ooh
b*tch, I flex Rick Ross, yeah
b*tch, I flex Rick Ross, yeahhh.
Lil Pump lyrics
Video Lil Pump

Juicy J – Ain’t Nothing Lyrics

[Intro: Juicy J]
Yeah, uh huh
Nigga I got the black car from the Spike Lee film

[Verse 1: Juicy J]
This that higher level stunting, make it rain a lot of hundreds
Gave that chick 30k to go get rid of her stomach
I’m a triple OG nigga 20 years and running
All my niggas down to ride like crash test dummies
And J don’t stand in line, I ain’t never never had to wait
I’m the realest in this game, I ain’t never had to fake
Forgiatos on the classic like that bitch got on some skates
Having dinner with Obama smelling like a pound of hay
I might blow a pound a day, smoking KK like a hippie
In the 60’s with this chick, tryna give my dick a hickey
Had to get it out the mud, no wonder why I’m filthy rich
And I’m running through this money like it don’t mean nothing to me, I might

[Hook: Ty Dolla $ign]
Buy the highest bottle like it ain’t nothing
Bitch I’ll buy 20 bottles for the club like it ain’t nothing
Drop a hundred thou’ like it ain’t nothing
Bitch I’ll go and buy a brand new car like it ain’t nothing
Buy a new crib like it ain’t nothing
Bitch I’ll go and buy a ton of bad bitches like it ain’t nothing
Pull a hundred thou’, I mean ain’t nothing
When you getting money, and smashing , she just say nothing

[Verse 2: Wiz Khalifa]
Pull up in the lowrider two hoes behind us
Police say that they can smell it but I make sure they don’t find it
Hit the corner, slide the ash, Young Khalifa bout his cash
Bout to build another whip and I ain’t even got to brag
Three women got that bitch leanin’
Young Khalifa got the women screamin’
Done deal, done deal when I pull up
It’s a done deal, lift the trunk, still rolling up
And I got one in the front, two in the back
Do what I want, a nigga be like
King of my city [?] running through traffic
This ’61 I’m building ’bout to be a classic
I’m repping Taylor Gang – they asking; paper or plastic?

[Hook: Ty Dolla $ign]
Buy the highest bottle like it ain’t nothing
Bitch I’ll buy 20 bottles for the club like it ain’t nothing
Drop a hundred thou’ like it ain’t nothing
Bitch I’ll go and buy a brand new car like it ain’t nothing
Buy a new crib like it ain’t nothing
Bitch I’ll go and buy a ton of bad bitches like it ain’t nothing
Pull a hundred thou’, I mean ain’t nothing
When you getting money [?]

[Verse 3: Juicy J]
(Yeah , Ey Mike-Will, I got [??] , check this out)
Getting paid like ghost do
In the street, in the club too
Designer everything, Ric Flair
I can buy the rap game, brick fair
Buy the bar, smoke that caviar, I’m in the finest car
Push to start, I glow in the dark, I run up the charts
Redbone, vanilla, freaky broad, she gon’ keep me hard
Black car, better play it smart, nigga we in charge
Get paid, young nigga get paid
And I run the game like a fucking arcade
If we talking money then I got a raise
Drink so strong, they think i got it laced

[Hook: Ty Dolla $ign]
Buy the highest bottle like it ain’t nothing
Bitch I’ll buy 20 bottles for the club like it ain’t nothing
Drop a hundred thou’ like it ain’t nothing
Bitch I’ll go and buy a brand new car like it ain’t nothing
Buy a new crib like it ain’t nothing
Bitch I’ll go and buy a ton of bad bitches like it ain’t nothing
Pull a hundred thou’, I mean ain’t nothing
When you getting money [?]

Chief Keef – Falling On The Floor (Two Zero One Seven Album)

[Hook]
Pop tags, fuck hoes, rock shows
Dodgin’ hoes and I’m dodgin’ narcos
I’m in your city and I’ve got my pole
It’s a 50 bitch, call 5-0
Pint of the drink, got me movin’ slow
All this fuckin’ dope, all this fuckin’ smoke
I think that I’m Kobe how I’m ballin’ on a hoe
Hit the court, bitches fallin’ on the floor

[Verse 1]
Slam dunk, layup, pull up, three point, what up
Boy, you’re such a woulda coulda shoulda
Pull up on you in a what the uh uh
Rollin’ up a egg roll, do you want some?
Run down on you, time to make you fumble
Let off ten shots and I made you stumble
Got that Ric Flair, do you want to rumble?
I am Tarzan made it outta jungle
Now I’m feet up countin’ stupid paychecks
If you got a problem, nigga, say that
Sharper than an axe, cleaner than AJAX
Be worried about how many shots this K got

[Hook]
Pop tags, fuck hoes, rock shows
Dodgin’ hoes and I’m dodgin’ narcos
I’m in your city and I’ve got my pole
It’s a 50 bitch, call 5-0
Pint of the drink, got me movin’ slow
All this fuckin’ dope, all this fuckin’ smoke
I think that I’m Kobe how I’m ballin’ on a hoe
Hit the court, bitches fallin’ on the floor

[Verse 2]
Hey bitch, what’s your name?
Hit the party, yeah, the gang’s here
We finna leave, these niggas lame here
I’m finna hop up in a reindeer
I’m finna pick up all the slut hoes
I don’t really wanna fuck though
I kill you with my own hands
Fo’nem who want me to bust though
Bitch, I’m still with that street shit
Clip longer than a fuckin’ selfie stick
Be in your grass, yeah, I’m still on that creep shit
I’ll hop out in your hood and take a pee bitch
Let’s get it, catch up

[Hook]
Pop tags, fuck hoes, rock shows
Dodgin’ hoes and I’m dodgin’ narcos
I’m in your city and I’ve got my pole
It’s a 50 bitch, call 5-0
Pint of the drink, got me movin’ slow
All this fuckin’ dope, all this fuckin’ smoke
I think that I’m Kobe how I’m ballin’ on a hoe
Hit the court, bitches fallin’ on the floor

Wale – Heel Face Freestyle (Priorities 5 Album) letras

[Intro]
Woah, yo
Fuck them niggas who hate, yea
Now we soundin’ sweet, go!
(Sample: “Too sweeeeeeeet!”)

[Hook]
Fuck them niggas who hate, duck them bitches who fake
Everybody is real and everybody two-faced
Heel, face, heel, face, heel, wait
Fuck them niggas who hate, duck them bitches who fake
You could be an earthquake or be a snake
Heel, face, heel, let’s get it
Fuck with me

[Verse]
Fuck them bitches who fake, all my shit on my plate
Got me under a fake one like you’re Donald’s toupé
No real knowledge on foreign policy, obviously bait
But it’s obvious broken promises shall be your fate
I’m like the coldest, the dopest poet
No bullshit, I’m so devoted
I got at like 40 bitches, but I always go with Chloe
My baby mama, G, my baby mama, G
Label took like 40 hours for no MED’s
And, pick up the Maybach
I put these niggas in pieces, I duck shit
And watch these niggas walk in feces on features
See, the problem is
They’re Malcolm Jamal Warner, I’m Malcolm X
Compare, yea, realest nigga everywhere
Keep my peeps in Christian and they never gon’ loose their Edge
Fuck it though, we like, fuck it though
Me and Sean, Big Puffy though
He been on for a minute now
But when him around I’ma double up
Dropped one, hit a number one
Fuck you niggas, I’m goin’ number one
Fuck you niggas, I’m Curt Hennig
Y’all niggas lookin’ like bubble gum
Real shooter, Prince Balor
Real shooter, Prince Devitt
Only Buddha, no Len Bias
Nobody try us, we’re too excellent
The execution here too special
Bless the booth, what I do special
You’re a main event? I’m a main event
What I do? Pay-per-view special
You sleep on Folarin still?
I’m peepin’ on you artists still
MMG still the hottest deal
Like Ric, Tully, and Arn still
I’m on my Ric Flair
Hit your head, infared weapon, no sixes
I’m on my Nature Boy
Niggas try to fuck up my money
Still leave with the gold

[Hook]
Fuck them niggas who hate, fuck them bitches who fake
You could be an earthquake or be a snake
Heel, face, heel, face, heel, yea
Fuck them niggas who hate, fuck them bitchs who fake
Everybody is real and everybody two-faced
Heel, face, heel, face