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Pop Smoke - Meet The Woo 2 Album Lyrics



Pop Smoke - Meet The Woo 2 Lyrics






Invincible

Oh, woo
Yeah
Oh
Yeah, yeah
I said, I feel invincible
They like, "Papi what you get into?"
I pop a Perc, go retarded, wait
Haha, hahaha
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Woo, woo, yeah
Grrr, yeah, yeah

I said I feel invincible
It's a hunnid niggas in the spot
I'm walkin' through 'em (I'm walkin' thorugh 'em)
It's eighty-five just to walk through
I don't talk to these niggas (nah)
'Cause a lot of these niggas be corny (corny)
I'm feelin' horny (I'm feelin' horny)
And I shoot like Robert Horry
I'm off this percolater shit
I got a percolated bitch
I give her this percolated dick
I show her this percolated tricks
Pop Smoke, they know who in the city
Pop Smoke, nigga you could ask Diddy
Pop Smoke, bust up a citi or TD
Pop Smoke, goin' fifty for fifty

I pop a Perc, go retarded then shoot up the party
Then change the artillery
Energy, I'm givin' nothin' but energy
I give her Perky and Hennessy
I give two shots to the enemy, hope he remember me
What the f*ck a nigga tellin' me?
I spent two-hunnid-fifty on my fist
I spent two-hunnid-fifty on my bitch, double G
Niggas know I'm a threat
Walk in the spot and turn everybody Crip
DJ Clue, my nigga f*ck with the Woos
Tell Spinking to play it back
While the Woos throw the bag
You know I'm shootin' for the stars
Aimin' for the moon
I shoot at any opp (opp)
'Cause niggas know I'm Woo
Send a nigga to the medic
Everything raw, no edit
Pop Smoke, did it

I said I feel invincible
It's a hunnid niggas in the spot
I'm walkin' through 'em (I'm walkin' thorugh 'em)
It's eighty-five just to walk through
I don't talk to these niggas (nah)
'Cause a lot of these niggas be corny (corny)
I'm feelin' horny (I'm feelin' horny)
And I shoot like Robert Horry
I'm off this percolater shit
I got a percolated bitch
I give her this percolated dick
I show her this percolated tricks
Pop Smoke, they know who in the city
Pop Smoke, nigga you could ask Diddy
Pop Smoke, bust up a citi or TD
Pop Smoke, goin' fifty for fifty
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Bashar Barakah Jackson, Yosief Tafari
Copyright: Lyrics © CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Shake the Room

(Trap House Mob)
Oh, oh (woo)
Oh (woo), oh (woo)
(This is a Melo beat)
It's Big 092MLBOA

I bet I shake the room (ay, woo, woo, woo)
Swerve (skrrt, skrrt, skrrt)
Go 'head, shake the room, yeah
Go 'head, shake the room (shake it)
I bet I shake the room
Wait
(Go) Swerve (skrrt, skrrt)
Go 'head, shake the room, yeah
Go 'head, shake the room (shake it)
I bet I shake the room

Uh, Quavo
How 'bout I shake the room? (shake it)
Chopper gon' sweep the broom
Everybody runnin' and duckin', I'm clearing the room
Shoot one time, seeing double time, like you on shrooms (shoot, shoot)
On the other line, it's a Facetime, say a nigga on the news (brrrrt)
We 'bout to shake in this bitch (shake)
Frosted Flakes on the wrist (ice)
The gang ain't playin' and shit (woo)
In New York I gotta shake in this bitch
Shake, shake, shake, shake (shake it up)
Peel back ya toupée (peel it back)
Money move the conversate (money)
Put 'em up on the plate (put 'em up)
Baby shakin' in the waist (she shakin')
Hit the flashlight to see her face (flash)
And she lookin' like a snack (cutie)
Birkin bag on the way (woo)

I bet I shake the room (ay, woo, woo, woo)
Swerve (skrrt, skrrt, skrrt)
Go 'head, shake the room, yeah
Go 'head, shake the room (shake it)
I bet I shake the room
Wait
(Go) Swerve (skrrt, skrrt)
Go 'head, shake the room, yeah
Go 'head, shake the room (shake it)
I bet I shake the room

Baby, baby
Shake it, shake it
I pop a Perc, feel amazing
Straight Henny, no chaser
Niggas be talkin' hot 'til they get burned (woo)
I don't f*ck with niggas, 'cause these niggas be shermed
Lil' nigga, stay in your place, wait for your turn
Respect ain't given, nigga, it's earned
In the Bugatti (woo) 5719 with baguettes, flag in the air
Hold on, ref (ref), ref (ref)
In a LaFerrari, can't rent this (nah)
With a brown lil' thing, Reese's (Reese's)
Steven Victor in the Pista (Pista)
Dior got no creases (creases)
Art gallery (art gallery)
6.1 for the painting (painting)
George Condos (George Condos)
Cost more than your condo (uh)
Wait

I bet I shake the room (ay, woo, woo, woo)
Swerve (skrrt, skrrt, skrrt)
Go 'head, shake the room, yeah
Go 'head, shake the room (shake it)
I bet I shake the room
Wait
(Go) Swerve (skrrt, skrrt)
Go 'head, shake the room, yeah
Go 'head, shake the room (shake it)
I bet I shake the room
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Andre Michael Loblack, Bashar Jackson, Quavious Keyate Marshall
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Get Back

(Trap House Mob)
(Yoz, what you tellin' me?)
What you tellin' me?
Yeah, I got Stacks to the right of me
I got Mikey to the left of me, huh, wait
Woo, yeah, look
Ayy, what up
Hold on, what they talkin' 'bout?
What them folks talkin' 'bout? Huh
Look

Buddy gon', grrt that, grrt that, brrt that, brrt that
Send shots, make 'em get back
All that chit-chat, chit-chat, riff-raff, riff-raff
My niggas ain't in to that
Nigga be talkin' hot, but he ain't on shit (woo)
I got like fifty rounds up in this clip (uh)
If I go to jail, nigga, I plead the Fifth (uh)
'Cause mommy still gon' love her kid
Niggas tryna lock me up and give me a bid, huh
I'm like, "Nigga, f*ck the pigs"
The judge like, "Why you actin' like a dick"
I said, "I'm movin' like I'm Steven Vic'"
My lawyer like, "Papi, why you brazen"
I said, "I pop a Perc and feel amazin'"
Shoot for the stars, I'm a foundation, huh
Look at the money I'm raisin'
She wanna f*ck, hold on
She's stuck in a book, have her wait for arraignment
She get dick, Edible Arrangements
That's the only form a payment
Shawty a snack
And after I snack, I'ma blow out her back
She like, "Papi, you so crazy"
I told her, "Wine on me, baby" (huh)
She want a star, she wanna f*ck and she know who we are
These hoes be dirty, I ain't hittin' 'em raw
When it comes to hoes, I got bitches galore (grrt, woo)
She wanna grip that, lick that
Ask where the stick at
Freak bitch put my dick where her lips at
She goin' all gas, no chit-chit (ayy)
She goin' all gas, no chit-chit
Ayy, grab up her bum (bum)
Here come that boy with the drum (woo)
If I pull it out, then that boy gonna run
If he want the smoke, knock the beef out his bun, ayy
I go dumb, dumb, dumb (go dumb)
Air it out, leave 'em slump-slump-slumped (baow)
F*ck what they say, they know that I'm Gucci
Pull up with a pump-pump-pump
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Bashar Barakah Jackson, Yosief Tafari
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Christopher Walking

Niggas sayin' they outside (ooh, haha)
Niggas sayin' they outside (woo, come outside)
Send the addy, we gon' slide (slide, slide, slide)
Air it out when we arrive (doo-doo-doo-doo)
Poppin' that shit but they don't want the smoke (nah, niggas don't want no smoke)
She like it rough when we f*ck, so I'm grabbin' that bitch by the throat (grr)
Niggas sayin' they outside (they're outside)
Send the addy, we gon' slide (slide, slide)

Heard he was talkin'
But he never jumped off the stoop (he never jumped off the stoop)
Take down the streets, then I pull up and pop out and shoot (pop out and shoot)
And they say I got the juice (yeah, yeah)
I bought the Dior, Dior, now that's all that I rock from the shoes (ayy)
Porsche niggas, hot boy, you ain't in the field, you a top boy
We gon' tie that boy up like a cowboy
I'm the one that they envy like Calboy (yeah)
Broke bitches ain't allowed (you not allowed)
She wanna f*ck with a real one, but real niggas back in style
I ain't no window shopper, your man out here window shoppin' (yeah)
I be in all the stores, and no, we ain't window shoppin' (woo)
She throw it back 'cause I'm poppin' (woo)
I'm makin' plays with the, we run it back like an option (yeah)

Woo
Niggas sayin' they outside (ooh, haha)
Niggas sayin' they outside (woo, come outside)
Send the addy, we gon' slide (slide, slide, slide)
Air it out when we arrive (doo-doo-doo-doo)
Poppin' that shit but they don't want the smoke (nah, niggas don't want no smoke)
She like it rough when we f*ck, so I'm grabbin' that bitch by the throat (grr)
Niggas sayin' they outside (they're outside)
Send the addy, we gon' slide

Just 'cause I dance, don't think I'm pussy
Don't make me pull up with the stick (woo, stick, stick)
I got a Louis V bag to match with the fit (Louis V, Louis V, Louis)
VVS ones on my wrist (ice, ice, ice)
All this water on me, I got water for me and my bitch (huh, me and my bitch)
Drownin' (drownin'), flooded (flooded)
They told me the price, I said, "F*ck it" (oh)
I spend it all with no budget (budget)
If it ain't a hunnid, I ain't budgin' (huh, are you dumb?)
I made like two hunnid in London (bow)
You out here gassin' these bitches
You pumpin' shit up like you Budden (bow, bow, bow)
If I see a opp I'ma throw out the car (grr)
I'm at the crib with your bitch
She came with a dress, she left with no drawers (huh, left with no drawers)
She love how I talk (love how I talk)
She know that papi outside, she know I'm the king of New York (grr)

Woo
Niggas sayin' they outside (ooh, haha)
Niggas sayin' they outside (woo, come outside)
Send the addy, we gon' slide (slide, slide, slide)
Air it out when we arrive (doo-doo-doo-doo)
Poppin' that shit but they don't want the smoke (nah, niggas don't want no smoke)
She like it rough when we f*ck, so I'm grabbin' that bitch by the throat (grr)
Niggas sayin' they outside (they're outside)
Send the addy, we gon' slide (slide, slide)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Alex Petit, Bashar Jackson, Dylan Cleary-Krell, Ebony Oshunrinde
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Downtown Music Publishing, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Foreigner

Ah
(808 Melo)
(Trap House Mob)
Woo
(This is a Melo Beat)
It's Big on the 12, no, be aware

Foreigner (grr)
Foreigner (bah)
Foreigner (woo)
Foreigner (ah)
Foreigner (grr)
Foreigner (bah)
Foreigner
Foreigner

My bitch a foreigner and she love to f*ck
She suck it up, make her fall in love
Put that on her tongue, Perky on her tongue
She do the walks for us, make her one of us
The gas that I'm smokin', potent
Ice on my neck, snowin'
I'm dark skin, glowin'
Off the Perky, I'm rollin'
Valet, park it
I'm screamin', I'm barkin'
They like, "Papi, why you starting?"
Pop a Perc, go retarded
They know I'm wild and I need that respect
Seven hunnid grams, ice with baguettes
Pop Smoke, niggas know I'm up next
Dre keep on shooting until it's nothing left
I'm 823, yeah, I throw up the set
20 years old but I move like a vet
Talk out your mouth, you better invest in a vest
Nigga, 'cause you could get left
Your bitch is a foreigner, huh?
I f*ck her and pass her, show her difference between a dog, and a master
Lamborghini truck, floorin'
Got your bitch in the bank, whorin'
She like, "Papi, I adore you"
I'm like, "Baby, I ain't normal"
Rrrrr

Foreigner (grr)
Foreigner (bah)
Foreigner (woo)
Foreigner (ah)
Foreigner (grr)
Foreigner (bah)
Foreigner
Foreigner

Hoodie on, it get scary
Bloody Mary, Bloody Mary
Christian Dior, I need more
Don't do Saint Laurent anymore
Yeah, na na na, let it off
(Yeah) Yeah, let's go
Yeah, .45 in my drawers
And they say I sound like a dog, huh (rrrr)
On God I'm in front
I was in all the stars
I bought every Hermes scarves
Yeah, do you feel me?
Thousand pair of Mike Amiri's
But I still need more
I could go and on, yeah
I ain't even gotta talk, yeah
Chopper go, "na na na"
Hoodie on, with a semi
Young nigga with a Richie
Young nigga with a Richie
The Richie, the one that had came with the big head, nigga, Jimmy
Headshot, that's a Jimmy
Big dawg in my city
Kill a opp and his bitch
Red dot to her titty, yeah

Foreigner (grr)
Foreigner (bah)
Foreigner (woo)
Foreigner (ah)
Foreigner (grr)
Foreigner (bah)
Foreigner
Foreigner
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Andre Michael Loblack, Bashar Jackson, Julius Dubose
Copyright: Lyrics © Reservoir Media Management, Inc., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Sweetheart

Sweetheart, sweetheart, ah
Sweetheart (what's a thotty), sweetheart (to a gangsta)
Sweetheart, ah, sweetheart
Sweetheart (I'm wildin'), sweetheart (got no answers)

Them niggas know they gettin' boomed (them niggas know they gettin' boomed)
You see my face, you better move (baow)
Bullets flyin' through the room (baow)
They want static, I'm in the mood
100K, what I pay for the jewels
I ain't got nothin' to prove (I don't)
You either win or you lose (ay)
Look, I see an opp, he'll be devastated, uh (devastated)
None of them niggas ain't never made it (damn)
Uh (uh), when I do a crime it's premeditated, ay (baow)
Ay, pay attention, watch close
It's Fivio Foreign and Pop Smoke (it is)
I see an opp and I drop folk (baow)
I see an opp and I drop folk (baow)
I'm heaven-sent (uh), devil in me (devil in me)
Them niggas know I need extra Henny (I do)
I shoot at niggas 'cause they messin' with me (baow)
Police'll never come catch up with me (skrrt)
Uh, sweetheart, I can not jog, I got three cars (ay)
I took a Perc and I think smart (ay)
I'm off of a Perc (I'm off of a Perc)
When I f*ck, I make it hurt (she do)
Whatever works (whatever works)
Your bitch gettin' money, you better dig in her purse
I take whatever she worth (I take whatever she worth)
Ay, I take whatever she worth (sweetheart)

Sweetheart, sweetheart, ah
Sweetheart (what's a thotty), sweetheart (to a gangsta)
Sweetheart, ah, sweetheart
Sweetheart (I'm wildin'), sweetheart (got no answers)

I got an extendo it holds fifty clips, it look like a broom (sweetheart)
When you see me, better "Woo" (woo)
Or bullets start flyin' through the room (sweetheart)
I pop a Perc, hold on (yeah)
To get in the mood, and it's 25 for the walk
I leave her like three patties when I'm through
I spend like a hundred bands in jewels
Drippin' like I came out the pool (like I came out the pool, wait, wait)
I'm so exotic like I came out the zoo (ay, ay, ay, hold on)
Stupid bitch, do I look like a fool? (Do I look like a fool?)
I'm from New York where they "Woo" (woo)
In a two-door, shot out the coupe

Sweetheart, sweetheart, ah
Sweetheart (what's a thotty), sweetheart (to a gangsta)
Sweetheart, ah, sweetheart
Sweetheart (I'm wildin'), sweetheart (got no answers)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Alyamani Ouadah, Bashar Jackson, Maxie Ryles, Ricardo Lamarre
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Element

I might just hit it raw, hol' on
That's not my element
I like dark skins, love her melanin
Huh, Christian Louboutin, when I'm steppin' in
Thirty bottles of Azul, tell 'em send 'em in
I had the Lambo', switched to the 'Rari
I'm a gangsta, but I like to party
Pop a Perky, go retarded
I'm a Brooklyn nigga, I'm cold-hearted

That's why I like the bad gyal (whoa), like RiRi (Ri)
Every time she see me, she wanna eat me (hol' on)
I soar like Justin Bieber, please believe me
I said, "Wow, I'm on the TV"
I can't f*ck with broke bitches, they be creepy
She be actin' up, she always tryna leave me
But she a bad gyal, and she freaky
I have her hangin' off the rod like she Mimi
I never hit a bitch more than once 'cause they be leeches
But her pussy good, it taste like peaches
But she can have it, I don't need it
I'd rather have my money green like kiwi
I don't talk to niggas, 'cause they be cappin'
Disrespect me and see what happen
I will make a call for war, start snappin' (rrr)
Bullets blastin', all the opps mad, that I lapped 'em
He said, "We're stackin', nothin' but my money"
'Member my pockets flat, now they chunky
I ain't a pretty boy, but I ain't ugly
And I'll take your bitch in a second
If she a real one then I'll protect it
Traded the AP, told my jeweler, "Patek it"
And it's all VVS and flower settings

I might just hit it raw, hol' on
That's not my element
I like dark skins, love her melanin
Huh, Christian Louboutin, when I'm steppin' in
Thirty bottles of Azul, tell 'em send 'em in
I had the Lambo', switched to the 'Rari
I'm a gangsta, but I like to party
Pop a Perky, go retarded
I'm a Brooklyn nigga, I'm cold-hearted

(Yoz, what you tellin' me? Yoz, what you tellin' me?)
(Yoz, what you tellin' me? Yoz, what you tellin' me?)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Bashar Barakah Jackson, Yosief Tafari
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Armed N Dangerous

Look, look, I'm armed and dangerous
Ain't no parking at the light (nah)
Ain't no stainin' us, keep a K with us
Please don't, please don't play with us
Nah, we up and aimin' 'em (grrr)

Ain't no hiding, Flossy baby that's where I be
Line me, if you looking for me you can find me
Try me, niggas know that I'm grimy
Niggas know I'm on time and
Big body like a lineman
I know how to vibe, but no I ain't cool
Look at me funny, bet I'll shoot up the room
Shoot out the coup, I let it boom
Nah, I don't play with these niggas, never
Play with it, niggas know I keep a K with it
Ace Makaveli, waving it, waving it
All my apes on the loose, ain't no tamin' 'em, tamin' 'em
Step in the game and start changing it, changing it
Spin through your block, Tetris, bend it, bend it
All the opps caught a shot, Beckham, Beckham, Beckham
If don't got the chop, deck 'em, deck 'em, deck 'em
Got some brand new chops, test 'em, test 'em, test 'em
It's an opp in the spot, there he go
Over there, chillin' with his bitch
Point him out, where he at, James gon' give the assist
Six shots, clip 'em, I bet I empty the clip
Pop Smoke, or ape shit, but everybody know I'm Crip

I'm armed and dangerous
Ain't no parking at the light (nah)
Ain't no stainin' us, keep a K with us
Please don't, please don't play with us
Nah, we up and aimin' 'em (grrr))

I'm in the Bugatti racing, pacer, pace 'em
Run 'em down, chase 'em, Drace, Drac' 'em
Extendo, 30, Perc hit, 30
Hid away, dirty, air it out, birdie
I keep a Smith & like Stephen A, picante
In and out, different states, ducking the Jakes
Free Melly Gs, Free D Nice, and Free Rocky out the cage
It's Big 092MLBOA, woo
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Andre Michael Loblack, Bashar Barakah Jackson, Ricardo Lamarre
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Mannequin

(Trap House Mob)
Huh (woo), what's rockin' cuz (woo, woo, woo, bah)
(AXL)
(This is a Melo Beat)

Look, Dior on my body
Head to toe like a mannequin
Amiri denims got them panickin'
I pour a four in my Fanta
If my opps in a foreign
Then we shootin' up the Phantom
Dior on my body
Head to toe like a mannequin
Amiri denims got them panickin'
I pour a four in my Fanta
If my opps in a foreign
Then we shootin' up the Phantom

Big Glock up on my hip
That mean I don't ever slip
Run up on me, I'ma whack a nigga, clap a nigga, skate off in the whip
Gucci, foreign, she the drip
Fifty-five hundred the fit
55k on my wrist
I'm tired of juugin', my money legit

Trav' got the Urus, Bo got the Hurricane
I got the Range and all of them paid
I'm from the Floss, I'm a double G, and I'm known for puttin' in pain
I spent fifty on my left wrist, another hundred on a chain
Try to reach, and we takin' shots close range (baow)

Baow, bang, hit his brain
Catch me an opp, I'ma treat 'em and beat 'em and show him he lame
I lost my brother, shit won't be the same
Ever since then I been goin' insane
Do it for Smelly, I do it for gang
And Nino gon' wet 'em up, show 'em my pain

Big Louboutin for the steppin'
Big .38 for the weapon
And I catch a case for nothin'
I back the Wraith for nothin'
Gas 'em up, getty
Rock steady, rock steady
Shots hit your belly
Rust pack got me deady

Checks, Chevy
Swing a BOA, we ready
R.I.P the fallen soldiers
Screamin', "Free my nigga Melly"
Lotta shit been on my mind
Smokin' dope I'm gettin' deady
Lotta pressures on my shoulders
Steady movin' but it's heavy
I was posted by the deli
Any means to get it early mornin,' I was ready
Think I fell in love with fetti
She give super neck, I think I fell in love with Betty
Tati ate it like spaghetti
I ain't even mean to say it but I'm bein' petty
2020, vision steady
You know I ain't finna hesi'
Crossover for the cheddi

Dior on my body
Head to toe like a mannequin
Amiri denims got them panickin'
I pour a four in my Fanta
If my opps in a foreign
Then we shootin' up the Phantom
Dior on my body
Head to toe like a mannequin
Amiri denims got them panickin'
I pour a four in my Fanta
If my opps in a foreign
Then we shootin' up the Phantom
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Andre Michael Loblack, Bashar Jackson, Julius Babatunde, Tione Dalyan Merritt
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Dreaming

Ah, come on, baddie
Pull up, yo, what you doin'? (Trap House Mob)
Pull up, look (bad bitches know what I mean)
(This is a Melo beat)
Wait, wait
Yeah, yeah, huh, that shit right there
Lemme see some (ah)
Woo back baby
Talk to me nice
Look

Perc', 30, Perc', dreamin' (I'm on Cloud 9)
Low, that I'm dreamin' (low, that I'm dreamin')
Pour a, four, pour a four, I'm leanin' (leanin')
Know that I'm leanin' (huh)
Walk in, 30, got a whole lotta bags, Neiman
I'm up in Neiman, that's a fact
Papi, lurkin' (lurkin' nigga), schemin'
Know that I'm schemin' (baow)

Amiri the denims, got ninas attached
Big body Benz, I got tree in the back
Scope on the Glock and it hit like a MAC
I can't f*ck with these hoes 'cause these bitches is trash
I like my bitch and she classy
She suck on my balls, she nasty
She open her legs, gymnastics
She make it disappear, magic
Christian Louboutin, spikes on my feet
Red bottoms when I walk in the street (Pop Smoke)
I'm the one they wanna meet (Pop Smoke)
They know I'ma bring the heat (Pop Smoke)
They wanna f*ck with the team (Pop Smoke)
Bad bitches, that's my thing (Pop Smoke)
Eleven karats on the ring (Pop Smoke)
Mike Amiri, Billie Jean

Perc', 30, Perc', dreamin' (grrr)
Low, that I'm dreamin'
Pour a four, leanin'
Know that I'm leanin' (huh)
Walk in, 30, Neiman
I'm up in Neiman
Papi, lurkin' (lurkin' nigga), schemin'
Know that I'm schemin'

Look, ski mask, Jason
Glock 9, laser
Me and my bitch, chase 'em
If I don't got it she gon' tase 'em
Grab 'em up, shake 'em
I don't f*ck with no pigs, no bacon
As-salaam-alaikum
All my cars paid off
Talk to the general
Niggas know I'm the boss
These niggas be petticoat
They don't got the sauce
You know what that Henny do
Talk out your mind and we endin' you
Hit your body, do a flip or two
Know I'm a dog, I'm an animal (rrr)

Perc', 30, Perc', dreamin' (grrr)
Low, that I'm dreamin'
Pour a four, leanin'
Know that I'm leanin' (huh)
Walk in, 30, Neiman
I'm up in Neiman
Papi, lurkin' (lurkin' nigga), schemin'
Know that I'm schemin'
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Andre Michael Loblack, Ebony Naomi Oshunrinde, Bashar Barakah Jackson
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




She Got A Thing

Uh, woo
(Oh, oh)

F*ck it up (AXL, f*ck it up), stick it out (stick it out)
Throw it back (throw it back), for these racks (for these rack)
Poke it out (poke it out), stick it out (stick it out)
Throw it back (throw back), for these riches (grrt, bah)
She got a thing for niggas with money
She got a thing for niggas with money (uh, uh)
Poke it out (poke it out), stick it out (stick it out)
Throw it back (throw back)

I got the baddest bitch out of the city
She got my name on top of her titty
I do my dance when I get jiggy
I do my dance, I feel like I'm Shiggy
Hit the pole, do a trick
Climb on top, do a split
She wanna do it on my dick
Sit on my Amiris, told her look out for the stick
Baby, lemme, see some, okay
Two bad, bitches, goin', both ways
She gon' do it for these bands
She make it clap like how I do both of my hands

F*ck it up (f*ck it up), stick it out (stick it out)
Throw it back (throw it back), for these racks (for these rack)
Poke it out (poke it out), stick it out (stick it out)
Throw it back (throw back), for these riches (grrt, bah)
She got a thing for niggas with money
She got a thing for niggas with money (uh, uh)
Poke it out (poke it out), stick it out (stick it out)
Throw it back (throw back)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Bashar Barakah Jackson, Derrick Carrington Gray, Manalla Yusuf Abdul Aziz
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




War

(Woo!) if I want it, I'ma grab it (blaow!)
If I want it, I'ma have it (woo! Woo!)
Christian Dior, Christian Dior
I'm up in all this lust

I make a call (woo! Woo!)
I make a call, it's war
And nigga you can check the score
We up on the board (woo! Woo!)
And we all living lavish
If I want it I'ma have it
I make a call (woo! Woo!)
I make a call, it's war
And nigga you can check the score
We up on the board (woo! Woo!)
And we all living lavish
If I want it, I'ma have it

My niggas wit' it
Money floor, run up them digits
I know niggas mad that we did it
Say it, we live it
Morals, we'll never forget it
I ever get booked, I'ma cricket
Get it and flip it
Henny right here, I'ma sip it
You try me it's shots at your biscuit
24 hip it
I'ma just 24 hip it 'cause bro said, "Don't ever forget it"
Gang with me, anywhere I pop out know the thang with me
Every nigga here with me gon' bang with me
Try your luck and bro goin' insane with me
Bodies dropping that shit ain't a thing to me
Smokin' deadies, I'm rollin' up lame niggas
Couple niggas here with me done changed niggas
Clean the mess, we leave the remains, nigga
Surely business ain't playin' no games
F*ck all this fame, nigga
You will get flamed, nigga
Don't you front, I got aim, nigga
I saw homis that f*ck with my brain, nigga
I be feelin' like goin' insane, nigga
I just got me a check, now my chain bigger
You gon' die for the stain, nigga
When you sent me the addy', I came, nigga
Only me and my main niggas
You ain't really for static don't play, nigga
We could hit you today, nigga
If you makin' your bed better lay, nigga
There ain't too much to say, nigga

I make a call (woo! Woo!)
I make a call, it's war
And nigga you can check the score
We up on the board (woo! Woo!)
And we all living lavish
If I want it I'ma have it
I make a call (woo! Woo!)
I make a call, it's war
And nigga you can check the score
We up on the board (woo! Woo!)
And we all living lavish
If I want it I'ma have it (look)

I got 30 shots for any nigga who want it (flex)
Me and Tjay we be huntin' (woo!)
I don't talk much 'cause niggas know how we comin' (bah)
Niggas know I be dumpin' (grra)
Glock 9, dumpin' (dumpin')
Run Ricky, runnin' (runnin')
Blue face, hunnids (hunnids)
Know I'm the bill collector (woo!)
Pull up, what's crackin'? Go get to blastin'
Talk on my name and we wildin' out
All the opps in the spliff, ashin' (ashin')
Puff, puff, ain't no passin' (passin')
You gon' end up in a casket (casket)
'Cause niggas know what we into
I get to drillin', I'm sittin', I'm killin'
I'm sittin' if I get the feelin' (you will be dead)
I call Trav war bet he clap 2s (oh)
Sip Remy like he Papoose
Have him stay still like a statue (statue)
Have him inked in like a tattoo
If I run down, he a goner
Headshot, no warnin' (know we run down, little nigga)
It's a man down when it's pourin' (right now)
Gang spinnin', early mornin'
I don't get mad, I get money (flex)
What you lookin' at? Little dummy (what you lookin' at?)
I'll still buck your teeth like I'm Bunny (blaow!)
And I backed the Wraith off of nothin'

I make a call (woo! Woo!)
I make a call, it's war
And nigga you can check the score
We up on the board (woo! Woo!)
And we all living lavish
If I want it I'ma have it
I make a call (woo! Woo!)
I make a call, it's war
And nigga you can check the score
We up on the board (woo! Woo!)
And we all living lavish
If I want it I'ma have it
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Bashar Jackson, Tione Meritt
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Wolves

(Traphouse Mob)
(Swirv)

(Pop Smoke, look)

Doin' shit you can't believe (yeah)
Every city that I go to you know I f*ck with the G's (with the G's)
NYC, I f*ck with the wolves, I f*ck with the sleaze
Said he want smoke, his body drop, it cost two G's
Me and Pop Smoke we f*ckin' on bitches overseas (yeah, yeah)
Took his soul, rest in peace, got his face painted on a tee (let's go)
Heard that they drop the witness, I'm just sippin my tea (hmm)
I ain't take a pat down, I'm inside the club with my piece (yeah)
Yeah was raised in the jungle, it turned me to a beast

Look, I said I'm really real in real life
Look, I bet I do what I want
I know the owner to the club
That's why I got in here wit my pump
I'm really real in real life
I f*ck your bitch if I feel like
('Cause we do what we want, how we want)
(Whenever we want)
Flex on these niggas they know I'm the topic
Hundred bands in my pocket
You ain't a rich nigga stop it
All this green up on me like a goblin
If you tellin 'em me, they poppin
Call up the Batman, I'm Robin
Big .38 with a silencer
I got so much bodies they pilin up
I like a blue-haired bitch
I got a new year whip
She love the way that I put it down
She fell in love with these hundred rounds

Doin' shit you can't believe (yeah)
Every city that I go to you know I f*ck with the G's (with the G's)
NYC, I f*ck with the wolves, I f*ck with the sleaze
Said he want smoke, his body drop, it cost two G's
Me and Pop Smoke we f*ckin' on bitches overseas (yeah, yeah)
Took his soul, rest in peace, got his face painted on a tee (let's go)
Heard that they drop the witness, I'm just sippin my tea (hmm)
I ain't take a pat down, I'm inside the club with my piece (yeah)
Yeah was raised in the jungle, it turned me to a beast

Bitch get naked in my presidential suite (yeah)
Yeah, poppin' off tags, every day wear brand new tee (yeah, no cap)
Yeah, grew up I turned into the G I wanna be (be)
Yeah, got a time piece, but the time I cannot see (yeah)
Dropped a bag they covered his body up with a sheet (yeah, yeah)
Pulled up on the block, they left him in the middle of the street
Rest in peace, I hope his family losin' sleep (rest in peace)
Keep my eyes open, I kill his cousin if he come for me
Yeah, any second on the clock, I'm sippin' on wock'
Yeah, say he want smoke, drop a bag, every body get shot
Yeah, anytime we leave the club these bitches gon' flock
Yeah, keep makin' hits, I'ma keep, I'm on my job (yeah)

Every city that I go to you know I f*ck with the G's (with the G's)
NYC, I f*ck with the wolves, I f*ck with the sleeves
Said he want smoke, his body drop, it cost two G's
Me and Pop Smoke we f*ckin' on bitches overseas (yeah, yeah)
Took his soul, rest in peace, got his face painted on a tee (let's go)
Heard that they drop the witness, I'ma just sip my tea (hmm)
I ain't take a pat down, I'm inside the club with my piece (yeah)
Yeah was raised in the jungle, it turned me to a beast
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Bashar Jackson, Ellis Newton, Navraj Goraya
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Dior (Remix)

(Trap House Mob)
Huh, roll another one (aha, ha ha)

Said I'm never lackin', always pistol packing
With them automatics, we gon' send him to heaven
Wait, wait, wait, wait, aye, aye, woo (aw, shit), huh (ha ha)
Oh you feelin' sturdy, huh? (You feelin' sturdy, man)
Shake some
Shake it huh, shake it huh, shake it huh

She like the way that I dance
She like the way that I move
She like the way that I rock
She like the way that I woo
And she let it clap for a nigga
(She let it clap for a nigga)
And she throw it back for a nigga
(Yeah, she throw it back for a nigga)
Mike Amiri, Mike Amiri
Billie Jean, Billie Jean (uh)
Christian Dior, Dior
I'm up in all the stores
When it rains, it pours
She like the way I (err)
Mike Amiri, Mike Amiri
Billie Jean, Billie Jean (uh)
Christian Dior, Dior
I'm up in all the stores
When it rains, it pours
She like the way I (err)

When I walk in the spot, thirty on me
Buy out the club, niggas know that I'm paid
Bitch, I'm a thot, get me lit
I can't f*ck with these niggas 'cause niggas is gay
All on my page suckin' dick
All in my comments and screamin' my name
While I'm in the club
Throwin' them hundreds and fifties and ones and ones
Pop Smoke, they know I'm wildin'
If I'm on the island, I'm snatchin' the cell
Brody got locked, denied his bail
Until he free, I'm raisin' hell
Tell my shooters call me FaceTime
For all the times we had to face time
Free D-Nice, he doin' state time
If you need the glizzy, you could take mine
Please don't come out your mouth, you know I'm like that
I'll make a movie like TNT
Glock-30 on me, ask who really want it
I bet I air it like BNB
Nappy Blue wildin' in my section
And I keep that .38 for the weapon
Remember when I came home from corrections
All the bad bitches in my direction

She like the way that I dance
She like the way that I move
She like the way that I rock
She like the way that I woo
And she let it clap for a nigga
(She let it clap for a nigga)
And she throw it back for a nigga
(Yeah, she throw it back for a nigga)
Mike Amiri, Mike Amiri
Billie Jean, Billie Jean (uh)
Christian Dior, Dior
I'm up in all the stores
When it rains, it pours
She like the way I (err)
Mike Amiri, Mike Amiri
Billie Jean, Billie Jean (uh)
Christian Dior, Dior
I'm up in all the stores
When it rains, it pours
She like the way I (err)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Andre Michael Loblack, Bashar Jackson
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., Reservoir Media Management, Inc., Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




Like Me

(feat. PnB Rock)

(You fire)

You ain't never met another nigga like me
You say you're looking for me, you got it right where you want
She feeling, she say "you so wavy, boy you sexy, yeah you fire"

Look, I'm like what's cracking, she like, "Pop, I got a man"
I'm like, damn, how you know me? Says she got me on the 'gram
I said, look, I understand, but baby I'm a fan
Cause you the baddest bitch I ever seen walk on the land
She said what's that on your face? I say that it's a cold world
The way you biting your lips though got me like "oh girl"
Get money and stay aggressive, baby it's your world
Martin talking to Gina, baby you go girl
Who you with? I'm with the lions and gorillas, gangbangers and drug dealers
All them scammers and the killers who I hang with
Yeah I taste good, ain't no onions on my sandwich
I'm 823 and everybody knows I'm sanctioned
Watch, if I shoot, I'ma shoot that
Woo and I'ma woo back
Yeah I'm from the floss you know the language
I put it on the table so that everything is clear
Put them diamonds on your necklace to match them on your ears
She's like send me a text
At the end of the night she was laid up in the bed
Lifting up her dress had her bent up over the ledge
Kissing on her neck when she went to give me head
What's next? Look
Let me f*ck you let me suck you let me eat you let me hold you
Let me beat up on that pussy like a real nigga supposed to
If you ain't know I had the power let me show you
Shark on your plate, we eating dinner at Nobu

You ain't never met another nigga like me
You say you're looking for me, you got it right where you want
She said "boy you handsome, boy you sexy, boy you fire"
You ain't never met another nigga like me
Keep it real girl, I'm looking for a wifey
She feeling me, she say "boy you wavy, you so sexy, boy you fire"

I'ma call you everyday at 12 o'clock, how you doing like Wendy
About your day and that new bag that I bought you from Fendi
I'ma treat you right as long as you let me
Louis Vutton and Guiseppe's, all I do is chase Fetty
Know I ride with that semi so let me know when you ready
I'ma pull up in a Benz, just finished collecting funds
Grabbing on your ass, got a rollie on my wrist
Baby you could bring a friend, that's when the party begin
All them tigers on my collar, ain't always just been Gucci
Riding past your block, bumping YFN Lucci
You saying talking is cheap, so you know I had to prove it
So I make this song so you can add it to your music
I'm top tier, yeah I ain't never kept it Nancy
But like Jamie Foxx I'ma always keep you Fancy
Gucci trench, feel like fishing gear
Put me on any block, you know I'ma get it there

You ain't never met another nigga like me
You say you're looking for me, you got it right where you want
She said "boy you handsome, boy you sexy, boy you fire"
You ain't never met another nigga like me
Keep it real girl, I'm looking for a wifey
She feeling me, she say "boy you wavy, you so sexy, boy you fire"
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Bashar Jackson, Caleb Ely, Daniel Elias Villalba, Jake Burdike, Othello Kwaidah, Rakim Hasheem Allen
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Downtown Music Publishing, Songtrust Ave, Cloud9, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




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