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Nav - "Emergency Tsunami" Album Lyrics



Nav - "Emergency Tsunami" Lyrics






Breaking News Intro

It was a beautiful spring day
It was sunny outside
Uh, I had just come home from a, uh, little errand to the grocery store
And, all of sudden, bam
It just hit
And, you, you could just tell this was really different, instantly
From the other little tremors that we've had before
I mean it just picked up with intensity
It ramped up
A gentle little shaking
And things started coming off the shelves
Things started falling off our desks
And you could hear this strange, eerie, creaking sound
Of all the buildings, all around us, as they were kind of shaken by this, uh
By the tremor of the ground
A tsunami warning has been issued
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Navraj Goraya, Amir Esmailian
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management




Friends and Family

(Wheezy outta here)

To riches from rags
I just believed in myself and somehow I made it out the block
I hit the road, I spend a 20 clip minimum every time I wanna shop
High out of my mind
I might just go buy another pair of some shit I already got
I'm getting bags
And right in the middle of quarantine, made ten million on the dot
Rick Owen pants
My right pocket full of them Xans
I know that I said I would stop
Man with the plan
I told 'em just follow my lead and I took my whole team to the top
Don't check the tag
And I don't check the receipt
If I see it, I want it, I cop
Shout out GBs
I got some connections in Queens
I get my J's before they drop

Where do I start?
All of my albums on charts
All of my cars push to start
I had no hope
I was just broke as a joke
I go shopping and I fill my cart
You wouldn't believe me
I just been taking it easy
Pockets they sloppy, they cheesy
Made me feel guilty
For all this shit I'm receiving, your actions looking deceiving
Beverly Hills
I told her to stay where my suite is
Told her the entry is keyless
I'm getting paid to go on the mic and
I feel like Mike Jackson when she let me beat it
Feel like a champ
I got them Louis V pants and they come with the permanent creases
Look at my feet
I got on them Travis Scott Dunks, I got friends and them family pieces

I make the plan
Then they gon' hope out the van and take you for whatever you got
My bitches tan
I'm on a yacht out in Cabo, got villas that take up the block
When I get geeked
F*ck 'round, tell her I love her, but I really use her for sex
Let her be free, I ain't bout catching no feelings, I'm catching a flight on a jet
She tryna leave me, no, I'm not taking it easy
F*ck on her friends, she upset
Knew I was smart
My teachers ain't think I'd achieve
Give a f*ck about passing a test
They wanna be me
Million in diamonds, believe me
Got rings, I could buy a Patek
Opps looking dusty
I got some demons, so trust me, keeping my foot on they neck

Where do I start?
All of my albums on charts
All of my cars push to start
I had no hope
I was just broke as a joke
I go shopping and I fill my cart
You wouldn't believe me
I just been taking it easy
Pockets they sloppy, they cheesy
Made me feel guilty
For all this shit I'm receiving, your actions looking deceiving
Beverly Hills
I told her to stay where my suite is
Told her the entry is keyless
I'm getting paid to go on the mic and
I feel like Mike Jackson when she let me beat it
Feel like a champ
I got them Louis V pants and they come with the permanent creases
Look at my feet
I got on them Travis Scott Dunks, I got friends and them family pieces
(Wheezy outta here)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Navraj Goraya, Amir Esmailian, Wesley Tyler Glass
Copyright: Lyrics © Ultra Tunes, BMG Rights Management




Young Wheezy

Yeah (Wheezy outta here)
Young Wheezy, Young Wheezy
Young Wheezy, Young Wheezy
Young Wheezy, Young Wheezy
Young Wheezy, Young Wheezy
It's Young Gunna, Wunna, young NAV, and Young Wheezy
Young Gunna, Wunna, young NAV, and Young Wheezy
Young Wheezy, Young Wheezy
Young Wheezy, Young Wheezy
Young Wheezy, Young Wheezy
Young Wheezy, Young Wheezy

Ball
They fresh out a coffin, don't know why they talkin'
Got power like Austin, they cap with a gown
These rappers exhaustin', that ho shit gon' cost 'em
They wet like a faucet, I look like a fountain
Get Texas like Austin, in LA we golfin'
Can't take no more losses and we steady countin'
I put 'em in office and didn't get a crown
I'm drenched like a dolphin, the freshest in town

Racks in, walk in Maxfield and I'm splurgin' again
Mixin' up Crush like it's juice and the gin
Stick in her pussy it's loosenin'
I went to Houston with Travis, I'm lit
Niggas send threats and ain't nobody dead
I done got rich but I still ain't a lick
Take a Perc 30 whenever I'm sick
Ring cost a 30, I ain't even 30, FN hold a 30, blue tips in the clip
Wide body swervin', Rolls-Royce that's for certain
Her head game is urgent, I bust on her lip
We the big dogs and these lil' nigga's shrimp
Vegas, I spent 20k on the strip
Neighborhood blue on the Vette, that's for Nip
XO, YSL, in the game off the rip

Ball
They fresh out a coffin, don't know why they talkin'
Got power like Austin, they cap with a gown
These rappers exhaustin', that ho shit gon' cost 'em
They wet like a faucet, I look like a fountain
Get Texas like Austin, in LA we golfin'
Can't take no more losses and we steady countin'
I put 'em in office and didn't get a crown
I'm drenched like a dolphin, the freshest in town

Came out the jungle with tigers and apes
Can't believe Cash's studio covered in Bape
F*cked so much bitches I should be in porn
Cost a arm and a leg just to see me perform
Speakin' the truth 'cause I ain't good at lyin'
And I never play golf but I still keep my iron
Call up some vibes, I got nothin' but dimes
And she gave me some brain, I got piece of her mind
Pull up to functions, my name on the banner
I'm still walkin' through the back door with my hammer
Told these lil' boys that they don't want no smoke
Had to aim for his legs, can't get caught on the camera
Got me a baddie, when she give me sloppy
She tie up her hair with a Gucci bandana
Come between me and my blues and get handled
I know me same dangerous Crips from Atlanta
If I run into a problem with cake
I put pots on the stove and I whip up the batter
Speak on my name, I'ma pull up on you
All your people gon' run when the shots start to splatter
Stayed on my grind and I been makin' noise
And I still find a way how to tune out the chatter
Catchin' yo bitch is like catchin' the opps
I just pull out my dick and shoot it right at her

Ball
They fresh out a coffin, don't know why they talkin'
Got power like Austin, they cap with a gown
These rappers exhaustin', that ho shit gon' cost 'em
They wet like a faucet, I look like a fountain
Get Texas like Austin, in LA we golfin'
Can't take no more losses and we steady countin'
I put 'em in office and didn't get a crown
I'm drenched like a dolphin, the freshest in town

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Young Wheezy, Young Wheezy
Young Wheezy, Young Wheezy
Young Wheezy, Young Wheezy
Young Wheezy, Young Wheezy
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Navraj Goraya, Amir Esmailian, Sergio Kitchens, Wesley Tyler Glass
Copyright: Lyrics © Ultra Tunes, BMG Rights Management, Universal Music Publishing Group, Reservoir Media Management, Inc., Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




Nasty

Ooh

Retro my 3s, Saint Laurent shirt
Handle my problems when they occur
Put her in Prada 'cause I'm proud of her
Drivin' a 'ghini, my hand up her skirt
She asked me, "Do you want half of this Perc?"
She must not know me, I told her, "For sure"
She pick me up when I be at my worst
Shorty in second place, she put me first
Think I'm obsessed, I'm on that ass
I text her back way too fast
Got her a truck ,she ain't takin' cabs
Make me feel good and she look bad
I don't know how much better she could get
Usin' her tongue when she give me a kiss
She be so nasty, I think that she sick
Look in my eyes and she spit on the tip

Nasty, when I shoot she gon' catch me, yeah
Happy, it don't take a lot to make her happy, yeah
Ask me, there's nothin' that she can't ask me, yeah
Attach me, feelings I get attach me, yeah
Nasty, when I shoot she gon' catch me, yeah
Happy, it don't take a lot to make her happy, yeah
Ask me, there's nothin' that she can't ask me, yeah
Attach me, feelings I get attach me, yeah

Took long to get her, I love the chase
Backwoods and Henny, she love the taste
Her standards ain't low but they just okay
Lay in the bed, she can smoke all day
Trust me I could be yo backbone
I'll be the one get yo back blown
Never put you in my bat phone
When I leave, always come back home
Right back to you with brand new blues, yeah
Bitches try to jump her, I'm beatin' them blue, yeah
I put ice on her neck, I'm keepin' her cool, yeah
I'm a Scorpio, I can get nasty too

Nasty, when I shoot she gon' catch me, yeah
Happy, it don't take a lot to make her happy, yeah
Ask me, there's nothin' that she can't ask me, yeah
Attach me, feelings I get attach me, yeah
Nasty, when I shoot she gon' catch me, yeah
Happy, it don't take a lot to make her happy, yeah
Ask me, there's nothin' that she can't ask me, yeah
Attach me, feelings I get attach me, yeah
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Navraj Goraya, Amir Esmailian, Wesley Tyler Glass, Colin Franken
Copyright: Lyrics © Ultra Tunes, BMG Rights Management, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Exploration Group LLC




Repercussions

(Wheezy outta here)

Everybody 'round me say I'm doin' too much
When I got some problems, yeah, the drugs come clutch
Shoutout to the opps, we got another cold case
Shoutout to my shooter, he ain't showin' no face
Shoutout to the driver, f*ck 12, he did the race
They typin' on computers, only letter I know is K's
Pull up to the show, I send a hit and hit the stage
Married to the game, I go to war and I engage

What you think? We got all the drink, I'll pour a gallon up
I'm a jerk, take a half a Perc, I f*ck with stamina
Money and fame, with a little game, I get the best of her
Eco friendly, I just went electric, bought the Tesla

Wheezy play some beats, I think the E kicked in, I'm ready
Grindin' on my teeth, I got no food inside my belly
I just put all my diamonds on, I'm feelin' petty
Get my cake, I will always be there for my confetti
Animal inside a Lamb', got horses inside the motor
Got a bitch named Nina, and she love it when I tote her
We ain't fallin' for that tough guy shit, that huff and puffin'
It's end of discussion, you don't want these repercussions

I just bought lil' shorty twenty Birkins, now they scared of her
Louis drenched her off and I walked in and I'm Hermes up
I told that bitch to call me papi, I got my turbans up
I'm rich as f*ck, really you need to switch the topic up
Hickory, dickory, dock, gotta run up my salary and run my credits up
I just bought four bitches the same watch because I'm petty as f*ck
Camera in the rearview Lambo and I seen them speedin' up
Ayy, what you want? I keep my bitch to get her tummy tucked
Too many cameras in the club gotta keep it low, gotta hit his tummy up
Pushed up nose on a brand new with a .44 but today I'm Tommy'd up
Sick of these broke ass, petty ass niggas and hoes, bitch, I'm goals
Birthday came and I bought me a two-tone roof and it's suede and it's Rolls
Cash got the two-tone AP, Vegas edition, my nigga, you're bold
Birthday on cake and these bitches, not fakin' with bitches, I'm real as the road
Keep a few tools and niggas that's all in they feelings and ready to explode
Drop my chain on the ground and now this bitch gotta dry her toes

Wheezy play some beats, I think the E kicked in, I'm ready
Grindin' on my teeth, I got no food inside my belly
I just put all my diamonds on, I'm feelin' petty
Get my cake, I will always be there for my confetti
Animal inside a Lamb', got horses inside the motor
Got a bitch named Nina, and she love it when I tote her
We ain't fallin' for that tough guy shit, that huff and puffin'
It's end of discussion, you don't want these repercussions
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Navraj Goraya, Amir Esmailian, Jeffery Williams, Wesley Tyler Glass
Copyright: Lyrics © Ultra Tunes, Universal Music Publishing Group, Reservoir Media Management, Inc.




Dont Need Friends

(Weezy outta here)

I don't need friends
They don't wanna see someone like me doing better than them
Still can't believe it, I really got rich
Tell a bitch or a hater to suck on my dick (suck on my dick)
Never give focus on hate I receive (yeah)
I could achieve more than they could dream (yeah)
I know they ain't tough enough to be me (yeah)
Making money like magic, got tricks up my sleeve
Too many vibes, I brought sand to the beach
Test drive 'em all, but I don't wanna keep
Pop me a X 'cause I gotta get geeked
Talking 'bout sleep, I get two days a week
They say they drippin', I'm kissin' my teeth
They burning it out, ain't no chrome left for me
When I was broke, I was feeling uneasy
Now I get paid, and I'm feeling relieved

Call up a thotty, I hit when I please
Whatever it take, might just pay her to leave
My bitch Latino, my choppa is Russian
Wheezy on beats, that's expensive percussions
Can't get no Act', so we sippin' on red
Can't talk my bro 'cause he still in the feds
Can't get these demons up outta my head
Can't slide on the opps 'cause they already dead
What I can do (what you do?)
I can go get some money
Whole pool heated up and it cost a hunnid thousand
'Cause I left that shit running (no cap)
I could turn nothing to something
Book me a show and I fly out the country (let's go)
I eat at Nobu when I get the munchies (let's go)
Driving in bucket seats, had to serve buckets
I put the top down and I let her suck it

(Friends)
They don't wanna see someone like me doing better than them
Still can't believe it, I really got rich
Tell a bitch or a hater to suck on my dick (suck on my dick)
Never give focus on hate I receive (yeah)
I could achieve more than they could dream (yeah)
I know they ain't tough enough to be me (yeah)
Making money like magic, got tricks up my sleeve
Too many vibes, I brought sand to the beach
Test drive 'em all, but I don't wanna keep
Pop me a X 'cause I gotta get geeked
Talking 'bout sleep, I get two days a week
They say they drippin', I'm kissin' my teeth
They burning it out, ain't no chrome left for me
When I was broke, I was feeling uneasy
Now I get paid, and I'm feeling relieved

I gave a round of applause to myself
I put the baddest lil' bitch on the shelf
I went '21 Wagen and sat it on F's
I don't gotta brag, this shit speak for itself
I got stripes in my hood, run the game, I'm the ref
I keep the fire up under my belt
And I run with some real ones who bang to the left
Marching band, baby, I know how to step
I can't speak on the business it's quiet as kept
Look like a diva, I know how to treat her
I know how to keep her, she fine as hell
I spent a quarter milli on a Richard Mille
I keep quiet, I'm never gon' tell
I put my life savings in a brown box
I was getting that shit in the mail
I keep a mill cash for the best lawyer
I ain't worried 'bout going to jail
I just spent 80K on some Hermès bags
50K more on Chanel
I got the ball now, ain't gon' ball hog
I'ma pass it to bro for the lay up
I just went Prada t-shirt with the Prada jacket
You can tell I'm a motherf*ckin' player

I don't need friends
They don't wanna see someone like me doing better than them
Still can't believe it, I really got rich
Tell a bitch or a hater to suck on my dick (suck on my dick)
Never give focus on hate I receive (yeah)
I could achieve more than they could dream (yeah)
I know they ain't tough enough to be me (yeah)
Making money like magic, got tricks up my sleeve
Too many vibes, I brought sand to the beach
Test drive 'em all, but I don't wanna keep
Pop me a X 'cause I gotta get geeked
Talking 'bout sleep, I get two days a week
They say they drippin', I'm kissin' my teeth
They burning it out, ain't no chrome left for me
When I was broke, I was feeling uneasy
Now I get paid, and I'm feeling relieved

(Weezy outta here)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Navraj Goraya, Dominique Jones, Wesley Tyler Glass, Amir Esmailian
Copyright: Lyrics © Ultra Tunes, BMG Rights Management, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Make It Right Back

(Wheezy outa here)

I could fly 3 of my homies on a 20 passenger jet (let's go)
I could put her in my rotation and she'll never get upset (never)
I could make sure when I touch down I go straight into my Wraith
My Goyard bag hold 250, put a mortgage in my safe (safe)
I got M's in my account, feel like I can finally take a break
Diving inside of the ocean and my neck look like a lake (like a lake)
All of my pockets stuffed with lots of cheese that you can't grate (cheese)
100k plus for a show and I'm booked state to state (let's go)
Pinky ring big center stone with lil' VVS all around it
I know that it's all there, but I still love the feeling every time I count it
Shorty got a lil' make up, I don't f*ck her 'til I rub her mask off
Cop shit, pop the tag off, take LSD and blast off

Ain't seen me since high school, it's been a minute
Can't you tell I'm litty
Bust down cost 150
Lift my door, girl, get in
Gettin' to it, I handle my business
Got foreigns like Fivio, big drip
Pouring up drank, taking big sips
R.I.P. Nip, got blue strips
Wake up, I gotta go get it
They told me I couldn't, I did it
I'm the man of my town and my bity
No security, I keep my blicky
Feeling notorious like Biggie
Hunnid round drums, big titties
Lost a 100k, no biggy
Make it right back, no kizzy

F*cked up my re-up so many times, now I know how to make it back
New artist that I never heard of want a feature, tell me, "Where the paper at?"
All my cars go real fast, got horses in 'em like where the stable at
Counting paper like loose leaf and it stick together like where the staple at
Shorty really got no chance of raggin' me, if she pull up and her feet look raggedy
Never let her post a picture tagging me, just to find out that she turned her back on me
Everything I do, I do it properly
Ain't talking money, then please don't talk to me
Bought new watches and all 'em factory
Investin' money, got a lot of property
Really came up, can't believe it, stay in Four Seasons every season
Soon as I came when she leaving
Gave me nothing but head like Beavis
Lately I been on auto pilot
Help me focus, then I wanna try it
Getting paid 'cause I put the time in, me and money reunited

Ain't seen me since high school, it's been a minute
Can't you tell I'm litty
Bust down cost 150
Lift my door, girl, get in
Gettin' to it, I handle my business
Got foreigns like Fivio, big drip
Pouring up drank, taking big sips
R.I.P. Nip, got blue strips
Wake up, I gotta go get it
They told me I couldn't, I did it
I'm the man of my town and my bity
No security, I keep my blicky
Feeling notorious like Biggie
Hunnid round drums, big titties
Lost a 100k, no biggy
Make it right back, no kizzy
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Amir Esmailian, Navraj Goraya, Robert John Richardson, Wesley Tyler Glass
Copyright: Lyrics © Ultra Tunes, BMG Rights Management, Universal Music Publishing Group




Trains

Ridin' in the Flying Spur, look up, I'm in the air (skrrt)
With my slimes, everybody got toolies, we well prepared (well prepared)
Man in my town, in my hood, I'm like the mayor (like the mayor)
Boardin' on a jet, I could barely walk up the stairs

F*ckin' hoes, blow out her back on a Perc
Eat me up, she treat my dick like dessert
Money and fame is a gift and a curse
People that's closest gon' hurt you the worst
I'm always booked, got no dates on my calendar
Live in the States, I can send shots to Canada
Whole squad is litty, we geeked, they can't handle us
Puttin' shit on stop and pose for the camera

Yeah, I get bitches by the two, I f*ck her one time and I pass her to the slimes (slimes)
Got a new girl and she exotic, I told my ex that I'm doin' fine (okay)
Diamonds shinnin' bright in the dark, you ain't gotta turn the lights on or open the blinds
Careful where you step, don't step on my shoes, go to war, we got sticks, all kinds
Paid the lawyer for the case, my brother got charges he can't erase (no)
AK's like Tay K, if we get pulled over I'm doin' the race (skrrt)
My stick relevant, 5th generation, got a Glock with a switch up to date
I ain't tryna play God but when it comes to my opps, I'm choosin' they fate (Keed, talk to 'em)

Spazz
I pull up with a hunnid round cutter on the block and these niggas gon' tell
Yeah, I spent 'bout one fifty on some chains just to say I wish a nigga dare
Yeah, it's 'bout fifty niggas standin' on your block with the blicky but only one of 'em kill
If a bitch catch me on the Belaire bottle, yeah, I'm dunkin' on the pussy, O'Neal
Yeah, I'm runnin' my route, catch a bag every stop, yeah, call me Odell
Yeah, you know we side by side, slime, goin' all the way there, 'bout mine
Bet that ho know my fit is a Hermes
I'm shinin', she like, "Who that with the blonde dreads?"
I'm grindin', I know where the dough at
I'm tellin' you, I'll never go back
To that poor shit, I'm rockin' a Rollie
I'm tellin' you, I'll never go back
High class whips, high class bitch
She suck my dick, drank my spit, look at my wrist
He ain't gonna wack nothin', he ain't on it
I'm pressin' you animal lovers
I'm tellin' your OG, better keep yo dog on a leash
I'm tellin' these froggy niggas think we sleepin'
We killin' shit, gon' 'head and leap (let's go)

Yeah, I get bitches by the two, I f*ck her one time and I pass her to the slimes (slimes)
Got a new girl and she exotic, I told my ex that I'm doin' fine (okay)
Diamonds shinnin' bright in the dark, you ain't gotta turn the lights on or open the blinds
Careful where you step, don't step on my shoes, go to war, we got sticks, all kinds
Paid the lawyer for the case, my brother got charges he can't erase (no)
AK's like Tay K, if we get pulled over I'm doin' the race (skrrt)
My stick relevant, 5th generation, got a Glock with a switch up to date
I ain't tryna play God but when it comes to my opps, I'm choosin' they fate
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Navraj Goraya, Amir Esmailian, Raqhid Render, Wesley Tyler Glass
Copyright: Lyrics © Ultra Tunes, BMG Rights Management




Do Ya Deed

Do ya deed (Wheezy outta here)
She get to the nut like a sunflower seed
That pussy wet, thought that lil' ho done peed
Dumb head, I don't think she can read
Got a headache, give this bitch some Aleve
Soaking wet, she compete with the sea
This gas strong like a nigga ate cheese

We big cats, no kitty litter (kitty litter)
Choppa bullets make ya body wiggle
.223's look like pointy nipples
All the Glocks having dicks, we some horny niggas (horny niggas, yeah)
Know some niggas that eat food, sausage McGriddle
This clip long that's a Glock with a pickle
These straps laugh if I give 'em a tickle
I'm in her mouth like some Skittles
I bust in her mouth and she with it (bust in her mouth)
Who can catch a nut first? I'm the winner
This bitch tappin' out, she a quitter
This ho having thighs like chicken dinner
Yeah, like a DJ, I'ma spin her

Do ya deed (yeah)
She get to the nut like a sunflower seed
That pussy wet, thought that lil' ho done peed
Dumb head, I don't think she can read
Got a headache, give this bitch some Aleve
Soaking wet, she compete with the sea
This gas strong like a nigga ate cheese (yeah)

I cook up and then I f*ck her to beats
She left her juices on my Vetements tee
Wet pussy, Malcom, I'm in the middle
Skin flute shorty, making it whistle
Sticks long, got a strap on a shoulder
Stroke strong when she bending it over
Horror movie, I be making her scream
Baker man, I fill her pie with my cream
Make it vanish, she a throat G.O.A.T.
She got no reflex, she can't choke
Like a tattoo I stay on her body
Need some swim trunks, slip and slide inside it
She get butt naked in my player pad
She call me zaddy, but I'm not her dad
Leaked on the bed, she so messy
She unload my clip 'til it's empty

Do ya deed (Wheezy outta here)
She get to the nut like a sunflower seed
That pussy wet, thought that lil' ho done peed
Dumb head, I don't think she can read
Got a headache, give this bitch some Aleve
Soaking wet, she compete with the sea
This gas strong like I ate lots of cheese

She get to the nut like a sunflower seed
That pussy wet, thought that lil' ho done peed
Do ya deed, yeah
She nasty, I'll never tell no one
She deep throat, then she rub me in the nuts, whoa, yeah
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Alex Bak, Amir Esmailian, Colin Franken, Navraj Singh Goraya, Saaheem Valdery, Wesley Tyler Glass
Copyright: Lyrics © Ultra Tunes, BMG Rights Management, Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Droppin Tears

(Wheezy outta here)

Dropping bodies, we ride out, they dropping tears
Got dirty money like cleats on a soccer player
I'll buy an opp pack and blow that shit in the air
They talk about me, but I don't care
Engine in the back, the trunk is not in the rear
With a bad bitch, the wind blowing through her hair
Pop me a pill, just like Wheezy, I'm outta here
Battling all of my darkest fears

My price make them scratch on they head, but they book me
Stayed on my grind, ten years is what it took me
Like I left the oven on, I'm burning cookies
Say they gon' touch me, I wish that they would
Walk with my chest out, I never get shook
I work the pot like I know how to cook
Hit up my ex any time 'cause I could
Keep me a stick, I ain't knocking on wood

Never rely on my luck when I pop out
I make a call, they gon' pull up and hop out
Paint you, we draw for the choppa like chop, chop
Slide in the vert, we gon' shoot out the drop top
50 round drum, turn his shirt to a crop top
Like a track meet doing laps on the opp block
Don't beat my meat, I be f*cking on thot thots
Flooded out fully, no, this ain't no stopwatch
My whip expensive, can't go through a car wash
Bought it in cash, took it right off the car lot
Smoke out the pound, got some pressure to burn off
Got money counters I don't gotta turn off
If checks are involved then you know I'm all for it
Slide in the 'Ventador lifting my doors
My shooter got a mop, but it's not for the floor
Your girl come around, make her walk on all fours

Dropping bodies, we ride out, they dropping tears
Got dirty money like cleats on a soccer player
I'll buy an opp pack and blow that shit in the air
They talk about me, but I don't care
Engine in the back, the trunk is not in the rear
With a bad bitch, the wind blowing through her hair
Pop me a pill, just like Wheezy, I'm outta here
Battling all of my darkness fears

My price make them scratch on they head, but they book me
Stayed on my grind, ten years is what it took me
Like I left the oven on, I'm burning cookies
Say they gon' touch me, I wish that they would
Walk with my chest out, I never get shook
I work the pot like I know how to cook
Hit up my ex any time 'cause I could
Keep me a stick, I ain't knocking on wood
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Navraj Goraya, Amir Esmailian, Wesley Tyler Glass
Copyright: Lyrics © Ultra Tunes, BMG Rights Management, Universal Music Publishing Group




Modest

(Wheezy outta here)

(Yeah)
I run the building, no Slayter or Zack
Never relax, diamonds always attack
Book me a jet and I fly out a pack
Got bitches on lock, Orange is the New Black
Weatherspoons on me, I feel like a hippie
I stay on my toes but I don't gotta tippy
Ridin' on Vossen and my tires are lippy
I walk into Magic and order a fifty
This is a prezzy, no this ain't no Swiss watch
Ridin' my cock like she dancin' for TikTok
Smokin' on gas, I got ZaZa in Ziplocs
Found a new plug, told the old one to kick rocks
Backwoods and Creed my aroma
From the streets where I got my diploma
Fell asleep while I was rollin' on Xans and I feel like I came out a coma
If she tell me that she ridin' for me then I know she gon' do what I told her
Itty bitty little ice on your neck but I know that my necklace colder
Keep me good relations, I know lots of Haitians, I gotta problem call my Zoe's up
Never emotional, keep a straight face, when I'm playin' my cards I won't fold up

Got a lil' ho put the pussy on Backpage, gettin' to the cheese like cottage
She gotta lil' profile, told her send the address, blow the whole thing of narcotics
Keep the racks like badges in NBA 2K 'cause it upgrade my ballin'
Whole clique lookin' like dried out tooth paste, everybody stayin' solid
Gettin' my Ws, can't take a loss, I gotta proceed with caution
Everybody know me at the bank 'cause I always be walkin' in makin' deposits
I was down bad eatin' chicken on Tuesday, same time Pluto made Honest
F*ckin' up a check, spent a hundred on a Monday and I was bein' modest

Got Gucci's socks like they Nike's
If you see me with her and she gettin' quality time, you know she gettin' pipey
Imagine I try to please all of the people that tell me that they do not like me
I got some big stones inside my ring, turn on the lights just like boxers, they fightin'
Everyone count on me, I bring the drugs, I'm the life of the party
Feel like I'm Playboy, on my birthday, I got a skeleton Carti'
Unlimited credit, catch me on a off day, I still keep a ten everywhere that I go
Money come steady, I gotta stay ready, avoidin' the headache, I stay on my toes

Never showin' weakness
Spend a lot of nights sleepless
Wish that my problems would go away
Told that lil' ho I don't go on dates
They watchin' my chain and this shit gettin' tizzy
Keep it off safety, I told 'em come get it
I got some hittas that's playin' they role
Don't play with me, go and play with your ho

Got a lil' ho put the pussy on Backpage, gettin' to the cheese like cottage
She gotta lil' profile, told her send the address, blow the whole thing of narcotics
Keep the racks like badges in NBA 2K 'cause it upgrade my ballin'
Whole clique lookin' like dried out tooth paste, everybody stayin' solid
Gettin' my Ws, can't take a loss, I gotta proceed with caution
Everybody know me at the bank 'cause I always be walkin' in makin' deposits
I was down bad eatin' chicken on Tuesday, same time Pluto made Honest
F*ckin' up a check, spent a hundred on a Monday and I was bein' modest
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Navraj Goraya, Amir Esmailian, Wesley Tyler Glass
Copyright: Lyrics © Ultra Tunes, BMG Rights Management




Turn and Twist

(Wheezy outta here)

Paid in full, gettin' paid like Mitch
Back of the Glock, only time I switch
Rap don't work, God knows what I'm with
Back to the block, hit a lick on bricks
Most of my old friends grew apart
Know a lot of scammers that's crackin' cards
Couple SSN superstars
Shoppin' in Shanaynay free of charge
Skrrt, skrrt, skrrt in a drop lost my mind and I lost my top
Told y'all I don't need no stylist, no kizzy, I got on Balenci socks
If we don't find who we tryna find we still gon' spin the block
Five shootings in one night, how the f*ck they call my city soft?

Stand on my money like I'm standin' on stilts
Shit look good, gotta get it on film
Steppin' out the foreign with the big as rims
Are you Nav? Girl, you know I'm him
Wakin' up to hate ain't nothin' new
They don't really got nothin' else to do
Countin' my blues, got nothin' to prove
Pourin' up the Sprite with a two times two
Everything better when you do it yourself
When I spend money, I ain't got no guilt
I'ma sit down on the thrown I built
Fightin' for mine but the battle uphill
Shittin' on people, I got me a list
When I pull up, make sure they sick
Forgiato lip, give the curb a kiss
Go full throttle, make it turn and twist

Stayed ten toes, takin' care of the guys
Lost my faith, had to cut my ties
Iced out buffs, cover up my eyes
Like a little kid, bring the toys outside
LV ring, only one in my size
Money outta sight, never outta mind
Told you I would help you one last time
Pockets, ain't gettin' nothin' out of mine
Holes in my tees had to wear the same clothes
I went from rags to rich
I used to spray on a sample cologne hopin' I bag a bitch
People made fun of me drivin' my car
I had no gas in it
Now every time that I be on the road, they chasin' after it

Stand on my money like I'm standin' on stilts
Shit look good, gotta get it on film
Steppin' out the foreign with the big as rims
Are you Nav? Girl, you know I'm him
Wakin' up to hate ain't nothin' new
They don't really got nothin' else to do
Countin' my blues, got nothin' to prove
Pourin' up the Sprite with a two times two
Everything better when you do it yourself
When I spend money, I ain't got no guilt
I'ma sit down on the thrown I built
Fightin' for mine but the battle uphill
Shittin' on people, I got me a list
When I pull up, make sure they sick
Forgiato lip, give the curb a kiss
Go full throttle, make it turn and twist

(My nigga Wheezy, know what I'm sayin'?)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Navraj Goraya, Wesley Tyler Glass, AMir Esmailian, Colin Franken
Copyright: Lyrics © Ultra Tunes, BMG Rights Management




Breaking News Outro

But, uh, unfortunately we keep getting aftershocks
And, uh, we've had three or four so far
And there'll probably gonna be others as well

(A tsunami warning has been issued)
It absolutely did, I think this is gonna be a tremor to remember so to speak
And I think people are gonna be talking about this for a long time to come
Because really Tokyo hasn't seen anything like this in uh, decades
This is gonna be a, uh tremor to remember

(Wheezy outta here)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Navraj Goraya, Amir Esmailian, Wesley Tyler Glass
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management




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