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Ian - Goodbye Horses Album Lyrics



Ian - Goodbye Horses Lyrics






Showboat

(Haha, what the f-?)

Huh, I don't know what you do, but you do it real good, uh (haha, what the f-?)
And I know it ain't real, but it really feel good
And if I had shit up to me, baby, I wouldn't feel love
F*ck it, if I buy another Mercedes, I'll run the dealer out
F*ck it, let's go back and forth, back and forth all night (f*ck)
I been too attached to us, it's massacre when we fight, baby
As long as all the gas get rolled, the chance is I will be fine, damn
But up until I pass it out, I act like I won't say much

Let's get over this friendship, buddy gettin' F'd up, quit tryna test us
I dropped fifteen 10s in a Tesla
Do the math, bitch, I'm a hunnid 'til the death of me
That's ten hoes, every one of them attractive
I'm ten toes, I ain't never finna backflip
I catch hoes, I ain't never been a passer
Me verse the Backwood, shit'll get smacked down
Hell yeah, I been puffin' all day and night (hell yeah)
Hell yeah, we gon' struggle, but we alright
Really don't wanna love her, but really might
I got on Undercover, but never hot
You not poppin', you a broke ho
The yacht private, I don't showboat
It's not exotic, then I won't blow
One M, damn, match it, then I won't choke

Huh, I don't know what you do, but you do it real good, uh (do it real good)
And I know it ain't real, but it really feel good
And if I had shit up to me, baby, I wouldn't feel love (wouldn't feel love)
F*ck it, if I buy another Mercedes, I'll run the dealer out
F*ck it, let's go back and forth, back and forth all night (f*ck it)
I been too attached to us, it's massacre when we fight, baby
As long as all the gas get rolled, the chance is I will be fine, damn
But up until I pass it out, I act like I won't say much, nah

Y'all go to Hell, on some cool shit
You just posin' for pics, you ain't doin' shit
I just dropped your apartment on bullshit
We got so long 'fore we gotta turn in, baby
So lost, but I'm finally gettin' better
Rolls Royce, 5% is the tint on it
This withdrawal make the teller get scared of me

I don't know what you do (but you do it real good), uh
And I know it ain't real (but it really feel good)
And if I had shit up to me, baby (I wouldn't feel love)
F*ck it (if I buy another Mercedes, I'll run the dealer out)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Asmil Rodriguez, Ian Smith
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Till I Die

You know I laugh at people like you
(Haha, what the f-?)
(Haha, what the f-? Haha, what the f-?)
Yeah, huh, huh

Ten thousand dollar pair of runners on my feet, huh
Ten dime shawties damn near runnin' towards the key, huh
Ten private flights, ho gon' wonder where I'm at, huh
Boy wan' ball with us? Get, yo' fundamentals down, damn

Damn, pockets stuffed up
I'm not showin' face without my blunt, I need plus one
I can't spare no favor for no ho, f*ck my trust up
I'm not sure what made me fall in love with the money sign
But I know I'ma get paid until I die

Huh, my new ho a model she know how to time it
I'm smokin' exotic, she rubbin' my body
I bring her out to Miami, the bitch had the time of her life
You can come get the rest of her after
I'm hot as wasabi, I'm fresher than water
My pockets on quarterback size, they massive
F*ck, why would I wait for a ho?
I got my Timberlands on, why would I wait at yo' door?
Huh, how 'bout you pay me my money? Huh, I am not playin' along
Maybe I said too much, huh, but I never did you wrong, damn

Ten thousand dollar pair of runners on my feet, huh
Ten dime shawties damn near runnin' towards the key, huh
Ten private flights, ho gon' wonder where I'm at, huh
Boy wan' ball with us? Get, yo' fundamentals down, damn

Damn, pockets stuffed up
I'm not showin' face without my blunt, I need plus one
I can't spare no favor for no ho', f*ck my trust up
I'm not sure what made me fall in love with the money sign
But I know I'ma get paid until I die

Huh
(Get paid until I die)
(Get paid until I die)
(Get paid until I die)
(Get paid until I die)
Huh

Ten thousand dollar pair of runners on my feet, huh
Ten dime shawties damn near runnin' towards the key, huh
Ten private flights, ho gon' wonder where I'm at, huh
Boy wan' ball with us? Get, yo' fundamentals down, damn

Damn, pockets stuffed up
I'm not showin' face without my blunt, I need plus one
I can't spare no favor for no ho', f*ck my trust up
I'm not sure what made me fall in love with the money sign
But I know I'ma get paid until I die
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Ian Smith
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




3.5

Yeah, huh

Three-somethin'-thou' for my LV feet
Three-point-five, just to help me sleep
I'll do a bitch like Joel Embiid
She'll never ever get a ring from me
Ho on my line like, "We gotta talk"
I don't know what I done, but it can't deep
Ten whole pounds of top of the shelf
I don't know what it costs, but it can't be cheap

Huh, damn, I'm geeked
I don't think that she want me for me
Huh, damn, am I tweakin'
Or am I a little higher than y'all?
Quiet it down, I ain't lyin' to y'all
You get prioritized if it's profit involved
Tired of y'all, I ain't flyin' with y'all
I'll die 'fore I sing to the choir at all (bitch)

Nah, I ain't goin' for it (bitch)
Nah, I don't know none
I just count up my debt on my lonesome
I ain't goin' in the bed 'til this ho gone
It's a hole in my chest if this ho close
Shit get cold as December with no clothes
This a V12 engine, I don't go slow
If my feet on the pedal, just hold on
Damn, huh, my baby gon' hold out for me (hold out for me)
Damn (damn), I been prayin' we turn out okay (we turn out okay)
Girl (girl), why you tearin' my shirt off? Goddamn (shirt off, Goddamn)
Huh, you know I got-
You know I got all eyes on me (you know I got all eyes-)

Three-somethin'-thou' for my LV feet
Three-point-five, just to help me sleep
I'll do a bitch like Joel Embiid
She'll never ever get a ring from me
Ho on my line like, "We gotta talk"
I don't know what I done, but it can't deep
Ten whole pounds of top of the shelf
I don't know what it costs, but it can't be cheap

Huh, damn (damn), I'm geeked (I'm geeked)
I don't think that she want me for me (that she want me-)
Huh, damn, am I tweakin' (am I tweakin'?)
Or am I a little higher than y'all?
Quiet it down, I ain't lyin' to y'all
You get prioritized if it's profit involved
Tired of y'all, I ain't flyin' with y'all
I'll die 'fore I sing to the choir at all

I don't got much left, I'm thuggin' all by myself
Huh, I know what's right, what's wrong, huh, I guess I don't got much else
Huh, let's get a lil' more high, roll me an L, put the windows down
Ridin' 'round town in that, "Oh my God, where in the hell did he get that from?"
Woah, when'd ya get this fine? Like, "Bitch, can I hit this time?"
I had six grams in that blunt, I ain't think I could get this high
I don't think I'ma risk this one, ew, your team worth fifty bucks
Bitch, you really missed me, huh?
Didn't that shit feel real for once?

Three-somethin'-thou' for my LV feet
Three-point-five, just to help me sleep
I'll do a bitch like Joel Embiid
She'll never ever get a ring from me
Ho on my line like, "We gotta talk"
I don't know what I done, but it can't deep
Ten whole pounds of top of the shelf
I don't know what it costs, but it can't be cheap

(Huh, damn)
I don't think that she want me for me (I don't think that she want me for me)
I don't think that she want me for me (I don't think that she want me for me)
I don't think that she want me for me
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Ian Smith
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




On the Floor

Yeah, yeah, 'Sace suits out this Rolls, we look like the Italian Mob
'Sace shoes, 'Sace robe, make my crib feel like the spa
Not no bag, I can't go, I need ten upon arrival
Contraband in my truck, so I'm careful when I'm drivin', huh

Pants fallin' down, ash on the floor
I'm fine either way, throw that ass if you want (throw it)
Pants fallin' down, ash on the floor
The gas in my bag could put a man on the moon, huh

Windows tinted, Forgiato's, f*cked her with four hoes inside it
B-Buenos días, hola, Mami, maybe I could call you Wifey
Change the pace, I take her down to SoHo, got your ho excited
Italiano leather jacket, this shit cost a f*ckin' Audi
They like, "Why is ian blowin' up?" Bitch, y'all the ones who did it
I don't hear him talkin' 'bout no funds, I'm probably not gon' listen
You don't make them pockets big as f*ck, I'm probably not gon' fit 'em
I just bought some brand-new Jordan 1's, I can't even touch the rim

P-Pants fallin' down, ash on the floor
I'm fine either way, throw that ass if you want
Pants fallin' down, ash on the floor
The gas in my bag could put a man on the moon, huh

"Just wondering, what-what is it like seeing this right now?"
"Shit, you tell me"

Head rushin', face hot, Louis store, play time
Furry coat, Maison, t-ten pairs, same kind
We can't wine and dine, bae, this a one-and-done, baby
I'm just not the one for you, I'm too low on time or somethin'
Listen, we probably chop somethin' up
But I'm not makin' friends with your ass, that's just how it is
Whenever this shit get ugly, I gotta pretend to be happy, you know how it is
If you see a chance for us, say somethin', baby, 'cause I got no idea
I'm pushin' this Phantom hard, drivin' this ho like I ain't pass my test

P-Pants fallin' down, ash on the floor
I'm fine either way, throw that ass if you want (throw it)
Pants fallin' down, ash on the floor
The gas in my bag could put a man on the moon (throw it)
Pants fallin' down, ash on the floor
I'm fine either way, throw that ass if you want
Pants fallin' down, ash on the floor
The gas in my bag could put a man on the moon, huh
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Ian Smith
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




My Call

(Haha, what the f-?)
(Haha)

I love when you do that lil' thing you be doin'
Huh, high road won't do nothin' but make you a loser
Huh, right, wrong, that's just somethin' they made to abuse
But it's my call, should be my call right here
Damn, roll another, roll another, roll another up
Hundred thou', two-hundred thousand, still gon' need some more
Huh, throw it on me, throw it on me, baby, go berserk
Just a phone call, but it's your call right now

I light everything that I got offered
I love every time that she go off on me
I just wish her love had a cost to it
I just wish these drugs didn't cost nothin'
Another dirty blunt bring my thoughts under
Another thirty days spent without sun
Thinkin' dirty things, thinkin' dirty, dirty, dirty, dirty, ah
New addition with the curtain, ah
Too convincin' not to purchase, ah
Groupie bitches gettin' nervous, ah
Stupid bitches get to flirtin'
Ho gon' go wherever I go, I know
Just give it to me pronto, right now
I keep lovin' on the wrong ho, right time
I'm just rollin' up fronto, lights out

I love when you do that lil' thing you be doin'
Huh, high road won't do nothin' but make you a loser
Huh, right, wrong, that's just somethin' they made to abuse
But it's my call, should be my call
Roll another, roll another, roll another up
Huh, hundred thou', two-hundred thousand, still gon' need some more
Huh, throw it on me, throw it on me, baby, go berserk
Just a phone call, but it's your call right now
I love when you do that lil' thing you be doin'
Huh, high road won't do nothin' but make you a loser
Huh, right, wrong, that's just somethin' they made to abuse
But it's my call, should be my call
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Asmil Rodriguez, Gyo, Ian Smith
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Out West

Yeah, yeah, huh, huh-uh
Yeah, huh, huh, uh
Huh, huh, huh

"ian, keep it true to yourself and don't ever let 'em take hold of me"
Remember them school bus days when nobody hid they flaws
The paper ain't never gon' change, will everybody 'round me? Probably
I'm catchin' the pack, one hand, look somethin' like Randy Moss, huh
It's comin' to me with no effort, them little-ass pockets need time to develop, uh
I'm still tryna deal with them devils, it's harder and harder to fight and repent it, uh
I'm growin' too fast and I'm stressin', I wish I had time to sit for a minute, uh
This is a brand-new Lexus, you catch me flyin' somewhere out West

"ian, the way that you hit, it got promise"
He want a problem, we probably could solve it
He came with me, then I won't leave without him
So me and my partner like Batman and Robin
Spendin' that shit is a stand-up process
Big-ass Ricks, I'm a stand-up guy
T-Take one, then I'm goin' unconscious
Both wrists flooded to manage time
One day, I'll be in Calabasas, goin' through life in a passive state
I love when she belittle me to an extent, it's harder to manage late, huh
I don't need your help, I'm doin' this thing, they takin' advantage of me, huh
I really just can't stop countin' the bands, it's makin' my hands go numb, huh
He wanna handle somethin' and we get it handled for him, huh
I'm tryna tell you somethin', is that really askin' much, huh?
How is you holdin' up? I know that I really don't ask too much, huh
I can't wait 'til we old enough to go over all that's past for us

"ian, keep it true to yourself and don't ever let 'em take hold of me"
Remember them school bus days when nobody hid they flaws
The paper ain't never gon' change, will everybody 'round me? Probably
I'm catchin' the pack, one hand, look somethin' like Randy Moss, huh
It's comin' to me with no effort, them little-ass pockets need time to develop, uh
I'm still tryna deal with them devils, it's harder and harder to fight and repent it, uh
I'm growin' too fast and I'm stressin', I wish I had time to sit for a minute, uh
This is a brand-new Lexus, you catch me flyin' somewhere out West (West)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Ian Smith
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Sh*t Sad

[ Featuring Chief Keef ]

(Haha, what the f-?)
(Haha, what the f-? Haha, what the f-?)
We just blew through all that gas, yeah
I can't believe we just (huh) (yeah)

I can't believe we just blew through all that gas still
High as can be, tryna remember how my past felt
Tired of askin' God why every day feel like the last one
I swear that I'd be fine, if she would finally throw that ass on me
Swear, baby, I swear we'll be just fine, but goddamn
You really know how to kill my vibe, I'm not playin'
Gotta be careful who you laughin' with, shit sad
But you'll get handled if you don't handle shit

Five hundred dollar blunt, I'm not passin' it
If it did not come from us, shit not accurate, damn
It's four o'clock a.M. Why we chattin' still? Damn
Ho slid through to eat then dip, got free action
Huh, I'm in Paris, you in Paris, let's do Paris shit
Huh, hey, f*ck up out yo' bed on that sad shit
Huh, hey, strand after strand, ransack my thought
Hell nah, f*ck goin' band for band, y'all don't have enough

I can't believe we just blew through all that gas still
High as can be, tryna remember how my past felt
Tired of askin' God why every day feel like the last one
I swear that I'd be fine, if she would finally throw that ass on me
Swear, baby, I swear we'll be just fine, but goddamn
You really know how to kill my vibe, I'm not playin'
Gotta be careful who you laughin' with, shit sad
But you'll get handled if you don't handle shit

Smokin' gas and leanin'
Heard a nigga hatin' tell 'em, "Suck my penis"
She got good brain, she a motherf*ckin' genius
And I got racks like Serena and Venus
I get money, nigga, schemin'
Up Ben Franklin, he got the bitches screamin'
Mama said, "Stop," but her baby still leanin'
Pull up in a V12, they ain't never seen it

Let's go do some money shit
I'ma keep it a hunnid and these niggas on some funny shit
I'ma keep it a hunnid if these niggas on some funny shit
Let's go do some money shit, let's go do some money shit
I done got used to this shit
Baby, yeah, my boo
Only if I knew what I do, what I do
If you think I need you, girl, you wrong as two left shoe
Only if you do what you needed to do
(Let-let's go do some money shit)

I can't believe we just blew through all that gas still
High as can be, tryna remember how my past felt
Tired of askin' God why every day feel like the last one
I swear that I'd be fine, if she would finally throw that ass on me
Swear, baby, I swear we'll be just fine, but goddamn
You really know how to kill my vibe, I'm not playin'
Gotta be careful who you laughin' with, shit sad
But you'll get handled if you don't handle shit
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Ian Smith, Keith Cozart
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




End Up Gone

(Haha, what the f-?)
(Haha, what the f-?)

I'll be dead before I pass this shit
I ain't never-ever gettin' past this bitch
She don't even know what this menu say, so she don't even know how to ask for shit
Oh, God, forbid this shit get hot, here you go, pass the noodle
Old ho tryna sketch out my plot, she ain't get past a doodle
Woah, I used to mention gettin' that guap, but now I get guap to mention
Way-way too much when the shelf up top, feel like I got dementia
Dude makin' my facial features hot, feel like I popped a pimple
Old me wouldn't have done this shit right now, but I feel a lot much better (my dawggy)

Ayy, I'ma die right by my dawggy's side (my dawggy's side)
We don't fall off 'bout no dollar sign (no dollar sign)
I don't run out of dope, baby, I'm damn near always high (near always high)
That's how I live my life, fried and makin' my mama proud, huh
And that's how this shit go down (that's how this shit go down)
This life shit a bitch sometimes (life shit a bitch sometimes)
Don't ask for a pic' right now, 'cause I'm high as a bitch right now
But we don't need to stress no more (stress no more)
We don't need to check no phones (we don't need to check no phone)
My shit too fast, if that light red, I'm probably gon' end up goin'

Hold your head up, I'm playin' this shit so right, we don't got nothin' wrong
Hell yeah, I'm flakin' on this thot, she don't got nothin' goin'
Damn right, I'm stayin' inside this house, I pay double a month
Everybody keep prayin' this shit go south, I don't go nothin' but north
Baby, I still got love for you, lust for you, I don't know just yet (yeah)
You gotta give that truck back in a month, boy, you don't own that shit
Somehow, I feel good for once, but somehow, I'm not good enough
Sat back for that ho lil' f*ck, then send that one to the moon tonight (damn, without my dawggy)

Ayy, I'ma die right by dawggy's side (my dawggy's side, we don't fall of 'bout no-)
We don't fall off 'bout no dollar sign ('bout no dollar sign)
I don't run out of dope, baby, I'm damn near always high (near always high)
That's how I live my life, fried and makin' my mama proud, huh
And that's how this shit go down (that's how this shit go down)
This life shit a bitch sometimes (life shit a bitch sometimes)
Don't ask for a pic' right now, 'cause I'm high as a bitch right now
But we don't need to stress no more (stress no more)
We don't need to check no phones (we don't need to check no phone)
My shit too fast, if that light red, I'm probably gon' end up goin' (gon' end up goin')
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Asmil Rodriguez, Ian Smith
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




Big Wigs

Soon as I bought that bag, bitch took off on me
Bitch took off on me
Soon as I bought that bag, bitch took— huh
Soon as I bought that bag, bitch took off on me

Uh, parents gettin' older, big wigs tryna short me
Pass me the doja, I'm tryna be dead by morning
I really ain't wanna have to take this route, but I don't like how you ignore me
I knew that I wouldn't end up back home the second I bought that Marni
I don't really know why, but you horrible, I don't understand why they adore me
My mama like, "What you got on, boy?" She don't understand how I afford it
Damn, I'm startin' to feel like a father and this three-five here my daughter
I done made best friends with thе sharks, boy, you ain't been that deep in the water

I done thought too deep, too hard, big blunt might fix my smilе
I'll get you what you want if you come my way right now
I'm tryna get this all back, don't take too long to call back
Dyin' inside this Rolls might just be my favorite hobby

My ho beamin'
Chillin' with some demons
Geeked up in this foreign
She f*ck me 'cause you're borin'
AP for the tourin'
Check out my new blocklist
All my old hoes on it
I was on two Percocets
When I said I love you, I'm just being honest
You could have this Rolex
Baby girl, I'm chosen
Know you wanna go frozen
Tell me, what's my problem?
Yes, I'ma be off soon
Your girl say I'm awesome
Your girl say I'm— (Soon as I bought that bag, bitch took off on me)

They don't want me, they want the momentum
She just caught me outside of my show, not my fault that your shorty wound up in a Sprinter
I been wastin' my time in the thought that it might be somebody who winnin' for different
If I'm savin' this ho, then she better start playin' her part, let's skip to the business

Uh, parents gettin' older, big wigs tryna short me
Pass me the doja, I'm tryna be dead by morning
I really ain't wanna have to take this route, but I don't like how you ignore me
I knew that I wouldn't end up back home the second I bought that Marni
I don't really know why, but you horrible, I don't understand why they adore me
My mama like, "What you got on, boy?" She don't understand how I afford it
Damn, I'm startin' to feel like a father and this three-five here my daughter
I done made best friends with the sharks, boy, you ain't been that deep in the water (Been that deep in the water)

Soon as I bought that bag, bitch took off on me
Bitch took off on me
Soon as I bought that bag, bitch took, huh
Soon as I bought that bag, bitch took off on me
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher




Loco

(Yeah, huh, huh, huh-huh)
Yeah, huh, huh
Feel me?
Huh, huh, huh, huh (what the f*ck, Solid?)

I get pieces shipped straight to my front door, I don't shop at storefront no more
Two bad hoes at my hotel, no, I cannot stop for photo
Brand-new Bugatti, no trunk, every time he try it, no luck
Every time we high, roll more, shawty way too hot, loco

I don't know if it's me or that ganja
Or the real bad feelin' about y'all
Gettin' closer to bringin' me under
They don't know how it feel to be us now
Shut the f*ck up, I just blew twenty-thousand in one spot
Me and Wock' gettin' f*cked up, we got two whole pounds for two nights
This my third blunt, I'm gettin' higher than real life, huh
You might've heard somethin', but you don't even know what it feel like, yeah
I'm puffin' on herbs, son, make the bitch smell like marijuana
Go 'head and pick two bags, shawty
I'll get 'em back next day, probably

I get pieces shipped straight to my front door, I don't shop at storefront no more
Two bad hoes at my hotel, no, I cannot stop for photo
Brand-new Bugatti, no trunk, every time he try it, no luck
Every time we high, roll more, shawty way too hot, loco

Oh, okay, I just want her for her body, huh
Me and Beentex way too fried, we just be sittin' in silence, huh
Baby, wait 'til you get this high, wait 'til you get this high, oh
If you feelin' like shit right now, just wait 'til they switch up sides on you
Shit bound to happen, type shit bound to happen, huh
Five-million-dollar crib, look like Downton Abbey
No addicts in my clique, we just got some habits
High, high as shit, feel like I just got to Heaven

I get pieces shipped straight to my front door, I don't shop at storefront no more
Two bad hoes at my hotel, no, I cannot stop for photo
Brand new Bugatti, no trunk, every time he try it, no luck
Every time we high, roll more, shawty way too hot, loco

Brand-new Bugatti
Every time he try it
Every time we high, roll more
Roll more, roll more, roll more
Roll more, roll more, roll more
Roll more, roll more
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Ian Smith
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Hate Me

[ Featuring Lil Yachty ]

Shouldn't be drinkin' on lean, I'm already half dead
Give a f*ck, I'm a gangster, I'm thuggin' (I'm thuggin', brrt, frrt-frrt)
Yeah (grow up, nigga), huh, yeah, huh, come on (Us)
Huh-huh, huh, yeah, yeah, yeah (brrt)
Come on, huh, huh

Wedding Cake in my blunt with no bride yet
If I face me another, I'll die here
I'm just prayin' I make it 'til Friday
Either way, I'ma die with my pride
Fell in love with the Cullinan parked out front
Bitch, wait 'til you see the garage
I done made me a promise, I'll fight back once
This time, I'ma leave it to God
On God, I ain't play 'bout nothin' once
When it's game time, jump in clutch
First thing in the mornin', blunt
First thing in the mornin'
I jump off the porch and head straight to the Porsche
Get to drivin' like somebody chasin'
Rock it 'cause I can afford it, my pockets enormous
Every time that I walk, I'm chafin'
You don't know how to ball, you lazy
You ignorin' my calls, shit crazy
One time for the hoes I'm savin'
One time for the hoes that hate me
Two times for the hoes that hate me
Three times for the hoes that hate me
3.5 in the blunt, I'm spacin'
Four doors on the Rolls, shit spacious
I don't know if it's-, uh
I don't know if it's smart I stay here
I don't know if I want that Maybach
I don't know if I'll find my way back
I ain't never gon' buy my way in
I ain't never gon' bow to no man
I don't care who the f*ck you came with
I don't care what the f*ck your name is (what? huh)

My Chrome unfindable
Like I did me a hit and I threw it away
Pop out that bitch and hit him in his fa-
Uh-huh
We open up doors in the summer
I took the roof off of the Hummer
I snuck in that bitch with a Llama
I'm sneakin' outside like Osama
Know I'm richer than your favorite rapper
If I'm not, then God, kill my mama
Biggest house on the street
The first Blacks here like Obama
Okay, let's see that thunder
On the plane, we took drugs under
And my bitch ass dumb like Yolanda
I'ma put the junk up from La Fonda
Fah-fah-fah-fah, yeah, f*ck 'em
I be twistin' my fingers, I bang
And Concrete the gang
Same nigga, just rich, I ain't change
Same nigga, I'm totin' that flame

Huh, I'm the same old kid, but I gotta grow up now, I'm a grown-up now
I've been havin' some long-ass nights
One more long-ass flight 'fore I'm right there next to you
Huh, damn, driver, move up, my legs need room
Huh, huh, damn, I really could cop this backseat, huh (brrt)
I know all of my ex-hoes miss me
I was drifting, poured a whole sixteen
I'm gon' clutch it, I don't do no wrestling
And my mouth diamonds lookin' like a cuff link
Put my bitch in no DG, free BG
We on TV, I'm makin' a mo-
We on TV, I'm makin' a movie
Durag on my head, it's The Boonies
F*ck whoopin' his ass, he gon' sue me
I'll f*ck it up fast, then re-up
Sip drink like I don't wanna be up
When we catch you, don't call for Jesus
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Miles Parks McCollum, Ian Smith
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group




Off That Sh*t

Huh
Huh, huh, huh, huh
(Haha, what the f-?)
(Haha, what the f-? Haha, what the f-?)
(Privateflightgang, bitch)

Uh, I can't see a lame, no way
My frames Bottega Veneta, I feel like the shit
'Bout hundred K today, my bank afraid that somebody hacked my account
I'm tryna stay patient, bae, but lately, I'm feelin' like maybe we just not meant
My whole fit blank, you wouldn't even think I paid about the same price as a car
I take care of mine, he play wit' the guys
Better off takin' a shot than dyin'
You next to the Don, you better not lie
'Cause I don't got time to debate who the fraud (hell nah)
I just take this lil' ho to Milan, we winin' and dinin' and havin' a ball
He the type to go wait in the line and hang wit' some grown-ass men at the bar

Damn, I'm off that shit (I'm off that shit)
Damn, huh, I'll probably sip (I'll probably sip), but I'm (I'm)
Gon' roll another blunt (roll another blunt), because (because)
I got it by the pound (I got it by the pound), goddamn
I'm just tryna make my mama proud of me (I'm just tryna make my mama proud)
I will not quit until I find my peace (will not quit until I find)
You know I hate that we apart (you know I hate when we apart)
So I'm gon' keep my head inside the clouds for now (gon' keep my head inside the clouds)

Goddamn, this shit got me lightheaded
I do not own this whip but I drive like it
I got ninety-nine problems, you not one
If I tell you the truth you might not like it
Roll it up in a 'Wood, I am not cryin'
They'll tell you it's good when it's not fine
They'll tell you you should when you should not
Keep that in mind when you talk to the big dogs

Damn, I'm off that shit (I'm off that shit)
Damn, huh, I'll probably sip (I'll probably sip), but I'm (I'm)
Gon' roll another blunt (roll another blunt), because (because)
I got it by the pound (I got it by the pound), goddamn
I'm just tryna make my mama proud of me (I'm just tryna make my mama proud)
I will not quit until I find my peace (will not quit until I find)
You know I hate that we apart (you know I hate when we apart)
So I'm gon' keep my head inside the clouds for now (gon' keep my head inside the clouds)

(We working, you're watching)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Ian Smith
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




Goodbye Horses

[ Featuring Eyesis ]

Ooh-ooh-ooh
Ooh-ooh-ooh

Look at all that shit that we just built, Texas
The tears spilt, the kids, feelin' like theyself, Texas
Them tens help so damn much when I'm in hell, Texas
And I know that they're textin', but I'm just a kid, Texas
Goin' crib to crib with nowhere else to live after
And the day we hit them Hills, I met the real devil
It take them folks you care about, don't even care about you
You feel like there's no way out, but don't be scared, partner
Oh, lost me out in Cali, ain't been found since
Shit, five years ago, I had to have 'em Golf Wangs
That's Instagram, I can't attach it to my own name
My mama told me, "Don't you ever let them boys change you"
'Member Kansas, gettin' excited 'bout some dumb nights?
Out in Texas, we was actin' like some grownups
Back in Cali, mama thought I was a goner
I done forgot about all that shit the day I showed up
Seem like everybody let it take they toll
Oh, am I wrong to think you gon' stop when it's go-time?
Tryna answer questions, I got tucked in my own
But I know that shit gon' happen, it just can't be the wrong time (time)

Ayy, I done thought about throwin' it in, I thought about it
I believed you was right until we fought about it (woah)
I done hit that wall and I still found my outlet (still found my outlet)

Halfway to peace, I'm on the highway to Heaven
Roll another spliff and blow the smoke to the ceiling
Keep watch of my soul, keep my faith in the sinner
I'm one of eight billion people tryna figure out the meaning
Halfway to peace, I'm on the highway to Heaven
Roll another spliff and blow the smoke to the ceiling
Keep watch of my soul, keep my faith in the sinner
I'm one of eight billion people tryna figure out the meaning
Yeah, this might be, I might be back in '66 to find some closure
I'm seein' through clearly now, straight through the haze
It took a million steps to get me right here
I'm drownin' in my love, right there, my safe, don't no place enough for tomorrow
I think I found a way, yeah, I found a way that I'm gonna take until it's over
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Tyler Pittman, Ian Smith, Liam McCay
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Back to: Ian


Performed By: Ian
Genre(s): Hip hop, SoundCloud, rap, rage
Released: October 18th, 2024
Year: 2024

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