Ha! Yeah
Alright, come on man
Yeah
Ay, you went and bought yourself a pistol and think you John Gotti
I'm high right now, you say something to me I'll just nod probably
Game on the line, gotta pass or shoot, I'd throw the lob probably
I'm scared of you, I ain't never seen you out, you a odd body
Before the Scats get discontinued, I need a wide body
Negotiating deals over the phone, I can't even sign properly
Seen Apple Music deleted your last tape, well that's a sign probably
The f*ck you talking about? Rapping's my job, you got a rhyme hobby
My Uber said I smell like weed, I'm gonna report the driver
You burning rubber in your ride, can't even afford new tires
Your phone dead, you don't got the buyers to support your supplier
Ain't trying to talk, I blamed it on the service, I got a poor provider
What the f*ck does it entail for me, you got none to provide
Nothing pisses me off worse than losing money and homies that lie
Gucci snakes, the only serpents around, I done cut all those ties
I think you got a problem with exotic, you only smoking on Fryds
Which thousand dollar fit I'm gonna put on, I got exotic problems
Pay my homage to these dead presidents, pour some out the bottle
Done made some money every day this week, hold on
Made some money yesterday and made some more today, guess what I'll do tomorrow
Send the lo, bitch, I'm tryna go, let's go turn up the party
What happens in here, stay in here, don't tell it to nobody
Phone on DND, while I get pape and focus on my calling
I've been on my game since preseason and I ain't off it often
I'm too real, gon' put the hood on like I'm Luke Cage
Gotta watch your people like some rollies, how they two-faced
Off-white, but the shoes black and they say shoelace
Fighting with his demons, getting whooped, he throwing mood swings
Bro evil, on some Joker shit and I'm like Bruce Wayne
Why you did it, and how you feel about it, let me know two things
Twin done lost his bitch the same day, he got a new flame
My chain snapped, gon' come back shining harder with my new chain
Some shit just can't be spoken on, so don't talk about that
Open carry law got passed in Florida, I gotta watch my back
On my Skilla shit, I'm screaming, "Huh", you ain't talking about cash
Let me see my money, bro, I promise, the Za in the bag
Your friends hoes, so why you hanging around them if you ain't that
Honestly, I'm a stand-up guy, but I've been laid back
Celebrating, getting to the green just like I'm St. Pat
The bag ain't in my dreams or otherwise you'd see me take naps
The 50's pinker than a f*ck, look like Majin Buu
Where the f*ck you going in that whip? You put one on two
Balling out, shooting steady green like Raejean Rondo do
You know the drill, I told him let's meet up at the rendezvous
The spot, like the shot clock got to watch your move
Cutting up in rush hour traffic, getting up on through
Dropped the blunt and lost all of my weed, I'm in a f*cked-up mood
Bro done lost his wife, he tore up, know he f*cked up too
Come on man
Yeah
F*ck you talking bout?
Exotic Problems Video (MV)
Drayko - Exotic Problems Lyrics
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We currently do not have these lyrics.
If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.
Ha! Yeah
Alright, come on man
Yeah
Ay, you went and bought yourself a pistol and think you John Gotti
I'm high right now, you say something to me I'll just nod probably
Game on the line, gotta pass or shoot, I'd throw the lob probably
I'm scared of you, I ain't never seen you out, you a odd body
Before the Scats get discontinued, I need a wide body
Negotiating deals over the phone, I can't even sign properly
Seen Apple Music deleted your last tape, well that's a sign probably
The f*ck you talking about? Rapping's my job, you got a rhyme hobby
My Uber said I smell like weed, I'm gonna report the driver
You burning rubber in your ride, can't even afford new tires
Your phone dead, you don't got the buyers to support your supplier
Ain't trying to talk, I blamed it on the service, I got a poor provider
What the f*ck does it entail for me, you got none to provide
Nothing pisses me off worse than losing money and homies that lie
Gucci snakes, the only serpents around, I done cut all those ties
I think you got a problem with exotic, you only smoking on Fryds
Which thousand dollar fit I'm gonna put on, I got exotic problems
Pay my homage to these dead presidents, pour some out the bottle
Done made some money every day this week, hold on
Made some money yesterday and made some more today, guess what I'll do tomorrow
Send the lo, bitch, I'm tryna go, let's go turn up the party
What happens in here, stay in here, don't tell it to nobody
Phone on DND, while I get pape and focus on my calling
I've been on my game since preseason and I ain't off it often
I'm too real, gon' put the hood on like I'm Luke Cage
Gotta watch your people like some rollies, how they two-faced
Off-white, but the shoes black and they say shoelace
Fighting with his demons, getting whooped, he throwing mood swings
Bro evil, on some Joker shit and I'm like Bruce Wayne
Why you did it, and how you feel about it, let me know two things
Twin done lost his bitch the same day, he got a new flame
My chain snapped, gon' come back shining harder with my new chain
Some shit just can't be spoken on, so don't talk about that
Open carry law got passed in Florida, I gotta watch my back
On my Skilla shit, I'm screaming, "Huh", you ain't talking about cash
Let me see my money, bro, I promise, the Za in the bag
Your friends hoes, so why you hanging around them if you ain't that
Honestly, I'm a stand-up guy, but I've been laid back
Celebrating, getting to the green just like I'm St. Pat
The bag ain't in my dreams or otherwise you'd see me take naps
The 50's pinker than a f*ck, look like Majin Buu
Where the f*ck you going in that whip? You put one on two
Balling out, shooting steady green like Raejean Rondo do
You know the drill, I told him let's meet up at the rendezvous
The spot, like the shot clock got to watch your move
Cutting up in rush hour traffic, getting up on through
Dropped the blunt and lost all of my weed, I'm in a f*cked-up mood
Bro done lost his wife, he tore up, know he f*cked up too
Come on man
Yeah
F*ck you talking bout?
Alright, come on man
Yeah
Ay, you went and bought yourself a pistol and think you John Gotti
I'm high right now, you say something to me I'll just nod probably
Game on the line, gotta pass or shoot, I'd throw the lob probably
I'm scared of you, I ain't never seen you out, you a odd body
Before the Scats get discontinued, I need a wide body
Negotiating deals over the phone, I can't even sign properly
Seen Apple Music deleted your last tape, well that's a sign probably
The f*ck you talking about? Rapping's my job, you got a rhyme hobby
My Uber said I smell like weed, I'm gonna report the driver
You burning rubber in your ride, can't even afford new tires
Your phone dead, you don't got the buyers to support your supplier
Ain't trying to talk, I blamed it on the service, I got a poor provider
What the f*ck does it entail for me, you got none to provide
Nothing pisses me off worse than losing money and homies that lie
Gucci snakes, the only serpents around, I done cut all those ties
I think you got a problem with exotic, you only smoking on Fryds
Which thousand dollar fit I'm gonna put on, I got exotic problems
Pay my homage to these dead presidents, pour some out the bottle
Done made some money every day this week, hold on
Made some money yesterday and made some more today, guess what I'll do tomorrow
Send the lo, bitch, I'm tryna go, let's go turn up the party
What happens in here, stay in here, don't tell it to nobody
Phone on DND, while I get pape and focus on my calling
I've been on my game since preseason and I ain't off it often
I'm too real, gon' put the hood on like I'm Luke Cage
Gotta watch your people like some rollies, how they two-faced
Off-white, but the shoes black and they say shoelace
Fighting with his demons, getting whooped, he throwing mood swings
Bro evil, on some Joker shit and I'm like Bruce Wayne
Why you did it, and how you feel about it, let me know two things
Twin done lost his bitch the same day, he got a new flame
My chain snapped, gon' come back shining harder with my new chain
Some shit just can't be spoken on, so don't talk about that
Open carry law got passed in Florida, I gotta watch my back
On my Skilla shit, I'm screaming, "Huh", you ain't talking about cash
Let me see my money, bro, I promise, the Za in the bag
Your friends hoes, so why you hanging around them if you ain't that
Honestly, I'm a stand-up guy, but I've been laid back
Celebrating, getting to the green just like I'm St. Pat
The bag ain't in my dreams or otherwise you'd see me take naps
The 50's pinker than a f*ck, look like Majin Buu
Where the f*ck you going in that whip? You put one on two
Balling out, shooting steady green like Raejean Rondo do
You know the drill, I told him let's meet up at the rendezvous
The spot, like the shot clock got to watch your move
Cutting up in rush hour traffic, getting up on through
Dropped the blunt and lost all of my weed, I'm in a f*cked-up mood
Bro done lost his wife, he tore up, know he f*cked up too
Come on man
Yeah
F*ck you talking bout?
Writer: Drayce Ayers
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid
Copyright: Lyrics © O/B/O DistroKid