Travis Scott - Days Before Rodeo Lyrics
(Featuring
Rich Homie Quan,
Young Thug,
T.I.,
The 1975,
Big Sean,
Migos,
Peewee Longway)
Days Before Rodeo: The Prayer
Midnight awakin', hyper ventilatin'
Drunk laps runnin' 'round the globe wild goose chasin'
After three number one albums woulda thought I'd feel amazin'
Still impatient, still sippin' on liquor
Still rollin' up swishas
Now it's beamers double parking, f*ck payin' the meter
In your club, on your couch, just got paid to be here
On your girl rubbin' on my favorite features
How could they tease us, only wanted of Ben Franklins and Mona Lisas
Jesus, Jesus, Jesus
Man, I might f*ck around, lose my mind, I gotta break out
I'm on a stake out, on a farm or your lake house
Around 3 AM dog, I was gettin' busy in the bathroom stall
Bad mamacita, Miami heater
Put it in a two seater, too bad I couldn't three peat her
Need a whole lotta vida 'fore I see the reaper
House full of snow bunnies, puttin' trees up like it's Christmas Easter
With more stamps than a skinny nigga got tats on my Visa
I know the kids in La Flame, they don't trust, they believe it
[Interlude:]
Jesus, Jesus (I mean), Jesus, Jesus
I might f*ck around, lose my mind
Jesus
Jesus, Jesus, Jesus
Jesus
Writer: Jacques Webster
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
Mamacita
[Intro: Travis Scott]
Mamacita, cita, cita
Mamacita, cita, cita
[Verse 1: Travis Scott]
This the last days to the rodeo, last night
Had me down in the back, comatose, don't think
Sun shades and a pill gon' help
Once I'm gone, can't tame myself
Mamacita, cita, cita
You know I really need yah, need yah, need yah, right now
She get freaky when the... light's down
The shit's crack, no way niggas could pipe down
With the head first, got her straight out of the night gown
Nothin' like the light-skinned mamacitas in H-Town
They got them pornstar big booties
Let me film it, then shoot it
3-D money, no illusion
Depending if I'm feelin' bougie
Might hit your line bitch
[Pre-Hook: Rich Homie Quan]
Cut my phone off, bitch got it vibratin' on me like a beeper
Boy I'm in Colorado, smokin' California reefer
Hey, the bitch so bad, call her ticket cause I really wanna meet her
And I ain't kin to Wayne but that's my mamacita
[Hook: Rich Homie Quan (Travis Scott)]
Mamacita, mama, mamacita (Mamacita, cita, cita)
That's my mama, mamacita, that's my mama, mamacita
That's my mama, mamacita, that's my mama, mamacita (Mamacita, cita, cita)
That's my mama, mamacita, that's my mama, mamacita
[Verse 2: Young Thug]
Mothaf*ck a girl
I love her, I give her the world
Aye f*ck her, I wanna f*ck her mother
Just might give her my little girl
No, I won't let go
Row that boat
She look the best with her fro
Natural nat-nat on go
Damn, Quan, turn on the stove
Whip it 'til I have a stroke
I do not f*ck with America
I get it straight off the boat
Oh damn
The kush it never make me choke
Slow down
I'm speedin' and I got a trunk full of wham
25 thousand on an old school Cam
Incest me, the bitches wanna molest me
Damn they'll sex me, she a lesbi
She want chicken like sesame
And she tryin' to adjust me, test me
Give her hotel keys like Cassidy
[Pre-Hook]
[Hook]
[Verse 3: Rich Homie Quan]
That's my bad little college ho
That I got on the east skirts of Decatur
Best believe that she cover Rich Homie Quan like a blazer
I smoke a lot of weed, keep my music turned up, f*ck the neighbors
I f*ck a nigga bitch and turn her like a table
Aye, I'm still practicin' so you know I'm gettin' greater
Aye, still wearin' long socks and shorts like Fabo
He was hatin' at first, now he tryna make the payroll
Got a stupid bitch who do whatever I say so
Money on my head like a Jesus piece
Blunt, now I'm higher than Khalifa be
Bad bitch lookin' like a Philippine
Ohh, you're killin' me
Ohh, remember me
You, finna be
Deceased if you keep callin'
Therefore I
[Pre-Hook]
[Hook]
Writer: DACOURY NATCHE, HOMER BANKS, CARL HAMPTON, RAYMOND JACKSON, JACQUES WEBSTER, LELAND WAYNE, JEFFERY WILLIAMS, DEQUANTES LAMAR
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Universal Music Publishing Group, Warner/Chappell Music, Inc., RESERVOIR MEDIA MANAGEMENT INC, TIG7 PUBLISHING
Quintana Pt. 2
One thing these bitches just got you finessing designer (Straight up)
Oh my God it's no rental compared, there's no need to remind you
Robbed my plug, that nigga wasn't getting me higher (That dope)
Oh no no, Oh no no no no no no no
Stuck on black as True Religion (Straight up)
This that shit that keep you geekin'
I been f*cked me bout 5 bad bitches this morning
And I ain't goin' back unless they horny
Oh no no, Oh no no no no no no no
(Finessing, finessing)
I can't go one day without finessing
(Finessing, finessing)
Ain't no argument and we straight up finessing
(Finessing, finessing)
Ain't no argument and we straight up finessing
Straight up, straight up
Ain't no argument and we straight up finessing
Been on that weed with my team
Rolling with my team, yeah we all finessing
Man here it go, fishcale, A1 perico
Fill PJ's up with kilos, then sell it like it's legal
Everybody he know could have gotten hit with the rico
Caught a couple of charges they was weak though
Feds had to let him go in a week or so
Still, still need the key to blow, whole heap of dough
Ran the streets for so long, man the team was so on
Damn it seem like so long ago, we had em in Mexico
He tryna make a bet, three bricks more
The, people always run up on us in Texas though
Only by the grace of God they ain't catch though
Some lil young nigga with some big dreams
Almost on the verge of doing some big things
Tryna get a bird since he was sixteen
And I ain't playin' around, fifteen more
You know a nigga love nice things
And the price in the hood is too frightening
Them niggas ain't gon' do the right thing
Except for me to do my thing
(Finessing, finessing)
I can't go one day without finessing
(Finessing, finessing)
Ain't no argument and we straight up finessing
(Finessing, finessing)
Ain't no argument and we straight up finessing
Straight up, straight up
Ain't no argument and we straight up finessing
Been on that weed with my team
Rolling with my team, yeah we all finessing
Tell me why she wanna leave me
She used me to get high
She used me to get higher, higher, higher
So tell me why she wanna leave me
Ooh, ooh, oohh, ooh, ooh
(As the days go on, the southern region of our national anthem,
The quest for La Flame, this journey, it's the last days)
Writer: Jacques Webster, Joshua Luellen, Mike Dean
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
Drugs You Should Try It
I tried it, it feels right
This feels nice
I've been down and lost for days
Glad I found you on the way
When the day gets better, the night gets brighter
I always feel this way
Through the hills
I hear you callin', miles and miles away
We up all night, from dawn to dust it's always poppin'
I fell in love, fell outta love, we both had options
I played the drums, she rolled the joints
I rocked the club, we both throw up
We was the band you never heard before
You got that tat above your crack
And on your cat you be right back
Your momma never know
We was rollin', rollin', rollin', rollin' stones
When I'm all alone I wish you had a clone
I take that puff, you take that puff
You know we never can overdose
Shit I tried it, it feels nice
Shit just kinda feels nice
Miles and miles away
When you're home alone in the mood
I know you wanna move
I know you wanna dance
I know you're gettin' ready to take a flight away
Writer: Jacques Webster, Trocon Markous Jr. Roberts, Ryan Vojtesak
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Dont Play
Drink slow to feed the nose, you know he likes to get blown
Has he got enough money to spend?
Leave? No. He's to and from, he doesn't like it when the girls go
Has he got enough money to spend?
I ain't playing with these niggas
I ain't playing with, I ain't playing with these niggas
I ain't playing with these niggas
I ain't playing with, I ain't playing with these niggas
I ain't playing with these niggas
I ain't playing with, I ain't playing with these niggas
I ain't playing with these niggas
I ain't playing with, I ain't playing with these niggas
Know I need my dollars
Know a nigga need my commas
She was down when I dropped out of college
Down, she was down when I rode Impalas
Played with her pussy in the jeep
Yeah, she was down with the foreplay drivin'
Jumped in the car when she hit my digits
Don't want nothin', just to pull up at the projects
Easy to me my nigga
Build it with a seam, youngin always seen with a killer
Hand stitched by my dealer
Dealing with a seam you ain't seen, what you mean Margiela?
She even got the 'scripts for the cough
In the H gotta hit Johnny for the frost, swirved off
It ain't been a minute seen they seen a weird nigga
From the corner put it on for the south
On my momma, know a nigga be coasting
Go nigga grab my bottles, go nigga grab my Chronic
Keep ya head up in the air my nigga
Niggas know gon be billionaires my nigga
F*ck how much time that shit might take
Niggas ain't playin' with em!
I ain't playing with these niggas
I ain't playing with, I ain't playing with these niggas
I ain't playing with these niggas
I ain't playing with, I ain't playing with these niggas
I ain't playing with these niggas
I ain't playing with, I ain't playing with these niggas
I ain't playing with these niggas
I ain't playing with, I ain't playing with these niggas
Bitch don't you play me, don't you try me
I need the exact amount
Look at my face ho, eye to eye me
I'm a boss Make sure you and your homies dress up, tie attire
When you see me ho, or I'll take that white tee and tie-dye dye it
I mean, god damn nigga!
You forgot where I came from? I'm from where you ain't from
Where you can't come, where it ain't none
Where these bitches is bitches and they ain't nuns
Where they hate from
But as soon as you blow they act like they been down since day one
Where there's f*cking tank guns
Nigga's never join the Army, like it ain't one
If I ain't got it then I'm huntin', I'm either countin' or I'm cummin'
Swear I just done bought that mansion, treat that shit like it's a dungeon
Up at 5AM still workin', but I treat it like it's 1
I'm never actin' like I got it
Bitch I'm actin' like I want it on these niggas!
I ain't playing with these niggas
I ain't playing with, I ain't playing with these niggas
I ain't playing with these niggas
I ain't playing with, I ain't playing with these niggas
I ain't playing with these niggas
I ain't playing with, I ain't playing with these niggas
I ain't playing with these niggas
I ain't playing with, I ain't playing with these niggas
I ain't playing with these niggas
Writer: Anthony Kilhoffer, Sean Michael Anderson, Anderson Hernandez, Allen Ritter, George Bedford Daniel, Matthew Timothy Healy, Ross Stewart MacDonald, Adam Brian Thomas Hann, Jacques Webster
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Downtown Music Publishing, Songtrust Ave, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.
Skyfall
Ooooh, ahhhh
Oooh, oooh, ahhh
Oooh, oooh, oooh, ahh
I'm trapped in my conscious
My trap is still bunkin', look at all of these hundreds
Hit up the hood pharmacist, he serve all the muddy
He might shoot at your buddy
He shot at my buddy
The sky keep on fallin'
The drugs I keep callin'
They keep pickin' up for me
They love me
I don't wanna buy, oh no
It won't get me high, oh no
I'm trapped in my conscious
My trap is still bunkin', look at all of these hundreds
Hit up the hood pharmacist, he serve all the muddy
He might shoot at your buddy
He shot at my buddy
The sky keep on fallin'
The drugs keep on callin'
Yea, that's that loud shit, yeah
I been out on my latest trip
I've been drunk in my latest whip
So I might crash in that ass forreal
Hit the club for the cougars
I never got down with the morals of Martin Luther
I'm just tryna ball, why these niggas want me neutered?
Got her down to her drawers, trynna get a little nuder
They just wanna hang like my nigga Mr. Cooper
I'm so ahead of my time, could I show up any sooner?
They said I fcked the roommates you know that just a rumor
Have you ever got stoned with your motherfckin' jeweler
Scott La Flame, no Rick the Ruler
Yeah
I don't wanna buy no more
Your shit ain't gettin' me high no more
My trap is still bunky, look at all of these hundreds
Might jump with no bungie
I'm gone off that muddy
I'm trapped in my conscious
My trap is still bunky
Look at all of these hundreds
Might jump with no bungie
Get lost in the muddy
I might shoot at your buddy who shot at my buddy
Was it love if you love me
And the sky keep on callin'
The drugs I keep on callin'
They keep pickin' up for me
They love me
I don't wanna buy no more
Your shit ain't gettin' me high no more
I'm trapped in my conscious
My trap is still bunky
Look at all of these hundreds
Might jump with no bungie
I'm gone off that muddy
The drugs keep on callin'
The sky keep on fallin'
The drugs keep on callin'
The sky keep on fallin'
The drugs keep on callin'
The sky keep on fallin'
The drugs keep on callin'
The sky keep on fallin'
The sky keep on fallin'
The drugs keep on callin'
The sky keep on fallin'
The sky keep on fallin'
The drugs keep on callin'
The sky keep on fallin'
Look me inside of my eyes
All of these problems I'm tryna disguise
I'm it like a game that get played by a kid
Pussy boy I'm on your head like a wig
Diamonds water like I bought 'em from a squid
A1's what she get when she want dick
Black diamonds like I'm Akon kid
Whippin' I can turn a two to a six
Real talk, on Blood you dead
And I still want that head like a lid
Hit the school, make it rain on a principal
I will leave a nigga smokin' like an Optimo
All my bitches they on gringo
They ride with heat, ready to sting bro
I got 300 bitches like I'm Sosa ho
My jewelry shinin' like some Mop & Glo
Inside her pants is a camel toe
I swear I fell in love with all those
Metro Boomin' want some more nigga
Writer: Jacques Webster, Jeffrey Williams
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
Zombies
And the kids sing
Yea, I like that, I like that, kids sing
We will understand if they don't
We don't want they bullshit no more
We will understand if they don't
We don't want they bullshit no more
Alright, alright, alright
You take too many martinis
She slip straight out bikini
She let me grand slam outside the Denny's
How we gone get Oscar proud if they pay us penny's?
I'mma need my dollars now, stack it till they envy
Ya feel me?
The kids they need that
I get that feedback, sit back, relax
I'm on that relapse
Yo ass gone die if you blow my high
I been over Coastin' just was beatin' in my lotus
All that loud talk like your dope we never notice
You ain't feelin' it nigga cause you sober
I'm ballin' in the game with players, you behind the coaches
Come take a trip on my lair by the Third Coast
Come floatin'
La di, da, di, da, di, all the kids shout at the party
We will understand if they don't
We don't want they bullshit no more
We will understand if they don't
We don't want they bullshit no more
You know when I was fourteen
I wanted to do a lot of kick ass shit
Yeah
Pornographic, so dramatic, cinematic
Diamond flashes, so drastic, dress so classic
Roll that cabbage, get put in casket, you dope fanatic
You the baddest, I'm sarcastic, we both laughin'
I'm the baddest, I'm out in traffic Fo Engine backin'
Stuffed in Suburban, twelve bitches straight out the beauty pageant
You know Reebok keep La feet hot, they be shipping package
GL 600 or the palace that collab with classics
Tell me what you need, I got everything green
Money, money, money trees, I buy everything
That bitch need no wedding ring, she need a bean
That boy walked in mall, that boy he need a beam
I done f*cked her twice you bought her fendi things
I done sipped the act Now Imma leany fiend
I can do this by myself, don't need no team
I got all these kids and all these kids gone sing
We will understand if they don't
We don't want they bullshit no more
We will understand if they don't
We don't want they bullshit no more
Writer: Jacques Webster
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
Sloppy Toppy
[Verse 1: Quavo]
She see me pull up in that 'Rari
I'm thinkin' 'bout choppin' the toppy
Got bitches on bitches, they run 'round the lobby, they know that I got it
I got too much money, son, sorry can't fit in my wallet
Sloppy toppy, you can't touch my wallet
Sloppy toppy know the bitches got it
Know that she got it
Know that she got it
Sloppy toppy, sloppy toppy, uh
Know that she got it
Know that she got it
Sloppy toppy, bet the bitch has got it
Sloppy toppy, bet that bitch has got it
[Verse 2: Travis Scott]
Migos they know that got it
Know that my wristwatch is sloppy
Now they want a double dutch in my pockets
Tell me one thing, is she 'bout it?
Girl is you 'bout it?
Gotta know before we let you tip toe and run through the lobby
But the little bitty told me sloppy toppy was a hobby
So she got me sloppy toppy like the sloppy toppy Goddess
Over the garden, over the garden
Oh what a goddess
On my privates, we don't do massages
Just menages
She like to talk shit when we f*ck, after she claims she forgot it
She don't tap out, no tap out, she rather just black out
Then we take trips to her trap house
We been pullin' them stacks out
Call over your friends
Bend over, they poppin' for bands
Can't stop if I can
No I do not do beer cans, f*ck is this a frat house?
[Bridge: Travis Scott & Quavo]
I know that she got it, I know that she got it
I know that she got it, I know that she got it
[Verse 3: Quavo]
I pull up and pick her up
Get her bruh
I know that she bad
And I know that the head is so good when she got around
I know that we call her the sloppy toppy
My pockets so sloppy
I pull out the whopper, the chopper
Just know that's who shot ya
Me, pull up in that 'Rari I don't have a key
She hop in the whip, disappear like a genie
[Verse 4: Takeoff]
She got the sloppy toppy, bitches want my broccoli
She after my money, Monopoly
Them twitter bitches wanna follow me
I make 'em swallow me then kick 'em off of my property
Paparazzi keep on stalkin' me
Feel like the Federali's keep on watchin' me
Worth 100 mil, niggas can't talk to me
Get sloppy toppy but you givin' currency
I make your bitch work for me, she at the Doubletree
Chopping strong, OG gas bags of that Hercules
Whipping the top off the Audi, do surgery
Red on the bottom, my shoes it's a murder scene
I don't want your bitch she a natnat
Pull up in the Audi, it's a hatchback
Kickin', pimpin' and I'm luxury livin'
Makin' it disappear, I'm a magician
[Hook: Quavo]
Know that the bad bitch got it
Know that she got it, I know that she got it, I know that she got it
Know that the bad bitch got it
Know that she got it, I know that she got it, I know that she got it
[Verse 5: PeeWee Longway]
Sloppy in the wrist and all my pockets
Come here lil bitch, I want sloppy toppy
Butt naked, f*ckin' in Balenciaga
Her pussy wet, I call it Fiji water
I know she got it, I'm a beat it for her
Then I dismiss the bitch and ignore her
They know I got it, I'm at the top floor
With Benjamins on me, no dubs
Duffle bag filled up like I'm Money Mayweather
Boogers in my Rollie, Pikachu yellow
Pick a shoe, Balenci, Maison Margiela
Pick a big bezel, which bezel is better?
My jeweler know I got big cheddar
Double Lambo, double parking wherever
Double R ghost jump out with an umbrella
Come with me, we take off like space shuttles
Longway, Longway
[Hook]
[Verse 6: Offset]
Sloppy toppy in the Maserati
She gone get on top me, ride me like a Harley
I don't f*ck with the molly, look at her body
She a hottie like a bag of Takis
Beat the pussy like I'm Pacquiao
Squeeze the nipples like you milk a cow
Pull up in the car that she can't pronounce
Dick in her mouth, you'd think she got a root canal
30 thousand for her Birkin
Fat booty, shawty perfect
She gag on the dick and she burpin'
She swallow my kids like a slurpee
Good brains, she nerdy
I'm wonderin' what is her purpose
When I get around her I get nervous
Little momma, she clean like detergent
[Hook]
Writer: Jacques Webster, Kiari Cephus, Kirshnik Ball, Quavious Marshall
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
Basement Freestyle
[Intro:]
Got my nigga Easy in this motherf*cker
Dead stock sixes and shit
Got my nigga Metro in this motherf*cker
[Verse 1:]
Buy the bar, buy the bar bitches on my table everywhere
On the floor condoms on my dresser
On my business, never plannin'
Never sober thinkin' blew me up
Body shots took on your bitches titties
Slow it down, pick it up, f*ck a third
Speed the fourth gear grindin' up on everything is mine
Here I got it now, everything I ever asked for
We gettin' it, far from mama's jeep she never tinted it
She frozed up, I unfrozed her, now come a little closer
Get your ass up off that wall and go roll up that doja
Tell your boyfriend bust that ki go ahead and fill that nose up
Till it's over, we ain't lookin' for the hoes with the trophies
Grab a glass go ahead get throwed up
She feelin' it, don't spill the shit
She crazy, she goin', she goin'
GONE!
[Hook:]
All this money on the table
We don't want relations
We don't want no conversations
F*ck around and change your world
Damn I'm with my main bitch
And I don't love her no mo'
Drinkin' f*ck the limitations
I done made it out the basement
F*ck around and change the weather
[Verse 2:]
I'm off a bean, I'm off a bean
Shit it's lean that's in my dreams
Off the stove, don't wanna smoke
Off this road I might just roll
Let's get throwed
Out in Houston they know my name
In MO city they know the gang
Young La Flame ain't nothin' changed
But the chains and diamond rings
I lost my brains me and Ye Ye
Out in broad day
I'm on the 3rd coast
Eatin' [?] with Merlot
I got my shirt off
Kickin' dirt off
Out in Bergdorf
She like what you doin'?
It took a path just to get me here
Don't give a damn if that's ruined
Later on got a ring, ring, ring
She at my doorbell ding, ding, ding, ding
Let the bitch in the bitch seen bang out bang out
On the couch, on the floor, in her mouth
Cameras out
Once my dicks in no pulling out
[Bridge:]
That's my baby straight up
Bitch been doing coke since the 80's
I'm a 90's baby
Young La Flame you know we crazy
[Hook]
Writer: Jacques Webster
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC
Backyard
(Sounds of chips getting eaten)
'Aight play the shit
Gon' grab that fifth, grab that eighth
Got what you need, blow that dope, don't get too high
From the Third Coast to the West Coast, come take this ride
Let me tell the tale of how I got turned Scott
Over one lost trip to the sky
Let me tell the tale cause you throwed the tail
When you said I could make it this high
Who knew? God dammit who knew?
The grass ain't greener on the other side, it's just blue
You can really identify when you lookin' in your eyes
You ready to ride, that's true
When they look in my eyes, they see that roll
How Scotty entired that juice
Had my back against that wall
Every time I felt so cold
My daddy ain't comin' home 'til fall
That's why my pimp game so moist
Had that du-rag and all
Had a 20 year old bitch in high school
Wasn't no tellin' what Travy might do
On the south side of that HOU
Hollup, let's take it back to that room
No car but still had drop
Just a hundred niggas standin' outside
Life's a beach with lot of sand on the lot
I'm a ride for all of my niggas
They forever here by my side
It was just 8 niggas in a two bedroom
No leg room, that was last June, yeah yeah
Yeah yeah forreal
Fck what they talkin' 'bout if they ain't talkin' 'bout me, nigga
Let it be known, yeah it's that real
Yeah yeah forreal
Forreal
Fck what they talkin' 'bout if they ain't talkin' 'bout
We them niggas everybody talkin' 'bout, it's that real
Yeah, forreal
Backyard, we chillin'
Backyard, we drinkin', smokin'
Homie brought out the liquor
Backyard, we gettin' high
Back Backyard, we chillin'
Back Backyard, we smokin', drinkin'
Back Backyard, we gettin' high
Verses, one day you'll find your purpose
Now my show's packed out like churches
Fans never missin' out a word on the verses
Never sit around, just workin', it was worth it
That's for certain, I deserve it
Lord knows we don't get tired, did more dirt than a derby
Momma worked for AT&T and we still ain't get that service
She stayed in/out the hospital, you know that made me nervous
Still step out the house to smell so fresh, fresh like detergent
If a bitch don't want me, don't need them still got my Jergens
And you can keep the herpes
Call Erbie
No house light on, cop light on, f*ck this journey
You heard me, you heard me
Now swervin', hittin' curbs
And my nigga, my nigga came home so it just got real
Writer: Jacques Webster
Copyright: Lyrics © Warner/Chappell Music, Inc.
Grey
[Hook: Travis Scott and James Fauntleroy]
We wake up when the sun goes down
Neighbor says the smell's too loud
Riding in my old school thang
Shotgun with my old school babe
So wake me when the sun goes down
Tonight's my last night in town
I pledge to a flag so grey
No matter what time the skies are grey
The sky is grey
[Verse 1:]
Around this time, was starvin no Ramadan
Mighta robbed you blind
You, you, you, your dad and moms
Yea, keep that in mind
Fear 2 things being broke and dying
Jump your ass inside, LSD come take this ride
No AC, ID, how you get your ass inside
Good, take one peek at me, you might get lost in my mind
Yea, f*ck that college shit, that scholarship, let's hypnotize
Yeah, ooh
[Hook]
[Verse 2:]
Might be the last time I trip
I know I said this shit last time
But damn I never had a trip like this
Who knew a threeway on freeway can trip with three hoes to a sixway
Ain't gotta finness out the midway
So Bird can wrap birds in that bengay
No more, goddamn
And pops never gave me shit
But pops ain't raised no bitch
I swung, I missed, he swung, he hit, then I hit that ditch
Raised in a town where it looked so good outside like it ain't that serious
My nigga got dumb years doing dumb shit
Locked up in the car, had to pull a gun quick
Killa tatted on his face, leaked to his conscious
Now he stuck in a cell, know he feeling nauseous
The nigga so good, he was so cold
Another lost kid, Mo City soul
[Outro:]
The sky is grey
Writer: Jacques Webster
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group
BACC***
[Intro:]
Metro Boomin want some more nigga
[Hook:]
Back hitting licks, back on that dirty
Cuzzo back on the block, he back servin' birdies
Plug hit my switch, damn he woke me up early
If that bitch smell like swiss, oh no no no, don't serve her
[Verse:]
Black out nigga, deeper than a frat house nigga
Doper than the crack house nigga
20-20 Lambo new edition gotta hit two gears just to back out nigga
Been a hell of a night but hell of a dykes cost a hell of a price
With a devil in a new dress on the 35th floor, nigga god damn that's a hell of a sight
Damn right that is, damn right she drowned my kids
Damn right don't doubt, damn right
Damn right, I hit anything I said I did
Damn right, only roll that gas don't pass that mid
Just treat a pint like a handle
When I'm with your girl, I hit your girl in the bando
Know I go commando
Know I need my cheese, know my cheese, know the nachos
Fall back, back, back, when you see me
Fall back when you see me tweakin'
Throw that ass back, back, back, back, know a nigga might throw that ticket
Feds hit my block, it got hot
But I'm back up in this bitch and I can't stop
[Hook]
Writer: Jacques Webster
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group