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YG - Just Re'D Up 3 Album Lyrics



YG - Just Re'D Up 3 Lyrics






GO BRAZY

Ayy, G, it's time to set the streets back on fire
F*ck peace
Nigga, we just re'd up
Three
(4Hunnid)
Bitch
Y'all already know how I'm rockin'
(Mustard on the beat, ho)
Here we go, let's go
Oh

Ayy, go brazy
Don't raise your hand if you ain't got no motherf*ckin' foreign (damn)
Skate the bitch, looked at other bitches, she got boring
Salute them super nasty bitches that be horny (sheesh)
Grab my phone, I gotta go, eight in the mornin' (ayy)
I ain't your nigga or that simp that you used to (right)
That nigga, dissed the gang that post-Parliam' got his head shot
I'm from the J's and we ain't ever did no leg shots

That nigga start beef, but he ain't bummin' to that land mark
I love the semi-auto, I can tote it, grip it and spark
Slide through the set like y'all active and we rippin' cards
A whole lot of families heartbroken from them dead bodies
My skin f*cked up and broke out from the lead probably
I hit your bitch, Amiri, I put her to bed properly
I got the thing with twin Turbo's, well, this the Benz or Audi?
My nigga saucy with the plays, but ain't no way around it

Jay's, Jay's, go brazy
She let me beat it up in the foreign, I go brazy
Hella bad and she freaky, I called her my lil baby
Said she really bout it bout it, told her let me see her bodies
Bitches only hit me up because they see a nigga poppin'
In the gutter with the thugs, totin' pistols like they rockets
Like damn, I never think I'd be who I am
F*ck, but I can't be your nigga, I'm just sayin'

Ayy, go brazy
Don't raise your hand if you ain't got no motherf*ckin' foreign
Skate the bitch, looked at other bitches, she got boring
Salute them super nasty bitches that be horny (sheesh)
Grab my phone, I gotta go, eight in the mornin' (ayy)
I ain't your nigga or that simp that you used to
That nigga, dissed the gang that post-Parliam' got his head shot
I'm from the J's and we ain't ever did no leg shots

Headshot, headshot, whole lot of headshots (headshot)
Enemy gon' bash and that's a whole lot of dead opps
All that talkin' brazy got your man got
The opps lil' boys, put 'em in a sandbox
F.n. Cocked, I be totin' big shit (fire, fire)
Yeah, you got gloves, but you ain't never did shit (nah)
We don't take L's lightly, that's bitch shit
So, yeah, we gon' double back for that slim shit (skrrt)
Hit your block, hop out, walked in, throw it up
Ain't nobody hangin' out, f*ck it, still shoot it up
Rude as f*ck, you ain't do enough, don't talk to me (don't talk)
Brain dead, bled out, shot up in his artery (his artery)
Really from the gang, this shit a part of me
I ain't never need a pass, niggas never pardoned me
Tree top gang on the toilet, T-Piru, Dimu'
Blood nigga from all the three

Ayy, now go brazy
Don't raise your hand if you ain't got no motherf*ckin' foreign
Skate the bitch, looked at other bitches, she got boring
Salute them super nasty bitches that be horny
Grab my phone, I gotta go, eight in the mornin'
I ain't your nigga or that simp that you used to
That nigga, dissed the gang that post-Parliam' got his head shot
I'm from the J's and we ain't ever did no leg shots

Just Re'd Up 3, bitch
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Keenon Jackson, Dijon McFarlane, Larry James Sanders II, Leigh Elliott, Paul Momberger, Sean Momberger
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group




RIGHT NOW

(Mustard on that beat, ho!)

Got a whole brick on my wrist right now
Got a bad bitch on my dick right now (right)
Yves Saint Laurent my drip right now
I'll blow this motherf*cker down, nigga, pipe down
Right now (right)
Right now, right now, right now, right now, right now (right now)
Right now (right)
Right now, right now, right now, right now, right now (right)

She was f*ckin' on you back then, I'm f*ckin' on her right now
Touchin' on her, lovin' on her, got her bussin' pipe down
Got her in a nightgown, pop a tes- if she bite down
Now I'm her life now, that pussy get piped down
A real nigga she f*ckin' with got yo' exes f*ckin' sick
Got you in the phone on video suckin' dick
No lie, I was lovin' it, them titties was touchin' it
Still can't believe how I had the bitch gugglin'
Bubblin', yeah, that mean I'm finna pop
Strugglin', yo' ass still up on that block
Hustlin', yeah, I do that shit a lot
Jugglin' with two thots on the yacht
Brought a buildin' on the block, and I built a bedroom in it
Spent some Ms on it, hope I get head soon in it
Yeah, the whip feel like a bedroom
This a Maybach Benz, I got legroom

Got a whole brick on my wrist right now
Got a bad bitch on my dick right now (right)
Yves Saint Laurent my drip right now
I'll blow this motherf*cker down, nigga, pipe down
Right now (right)
Right now, right now, right now, right now, right now (right now)
Right now (right)
Right now, right now, right now, right now, right now (right)

Bring the bottles when I walk in the club right now
Come correct when you talk to a thug right now
Bitch, I'm rich, I'm with bosses and Bloods right now
From the trenches, got it outta the mud right now
Since I'm rich, she want all of the dick, she throat that
Since I'm him, she hopped on my dick and rode that
Like a gym, I'ma work you out fo' sho' that
Niggas braggin' like they got it, well, they gotta show that
Got a brand new bag, hello, who is this?
Tryna make me ex mad with my new bitch
Rolls-Royce Cullinan, bitch, this a new whip
Saint Laurent drip plus the bag, bitch, I do this
You the type to get mad, but you don't do shit
I'm the type to spend a bag for him to blow the four-fifth
Wearin' another nigga chain, you be on that ho shit
That is not yo' cheese, you ain't got no chips

Got a whole brick on my wrist right now
Got a bad bitch on my dick right now (right)
Yves Saint Laurent my drip right now
I'll blow this motherf*cker down, nigga, pipe down
Right now (right)
Right now, right now, right now, right now, right now (right now)
Right now (right)
Right now, right now, right now, right now, right now

(LarryMakinAllTheHits)
Just Re'd Up 3
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Keenon Jackson, Dijon McFarlane, Jason Wilkinson, Larry James Sanders II
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group




ONLY FANS

Do that shit you do on OnlyFans
Girl, treat me like your only fan
I'll show you better than I can tell you
I need you bad, girl, I can't help it
Uh, you need a loan, well, I can sell it
All that ass you got is healthy
Show that pussy with a selfie
While you layin' on your belly
Girl, do it like your OnlyFans

Do your shit, I ain't gon' judge how you pay your rent
Move your hips, do that split, on my dick
Two-step in it
I could work you out, do my reps in it
I love a hood bitch that can f*ck back
I'm tryna poke it like a thug tat'
Smackin' on your ass like i'm patty cake
Should I f*ck now? I'll let her wait
You know it taste good when it marinate
Uh, oh, you the catch, well, I got bait
We can make some movies and sell 'em for top dollar
She give me head by the round way, that's top model
I'm finna bust up on her face, like a pop bottle (oh-oh)

Do that shit you do on OnlyFans (do that shit, do that shit)
Girl, treat me like your only fan (do that)
I'll show you better than I can tell you (I'll show you better than I can tell you)
I need you bad, girl, I can't help it (need you bad and I can't help it)
Uh, you need a loan, well, I can sell it (I can sell it, girl)
All that ass you got is healthy (all that ass you got)
Show that pussy with a selfie (make that pop)
While you layin' on your belly
Girl, do it like your OnlyFans

Yeah, she let you smash for pay
Ass, ass, she got ass for days
Bad bag, gotta tell that ass behave
This bitch a whole trip, Saint-Tropez
I'm a rich nigga, bitch, I brought the lot
She on OnlyFans, she my only thot
Heard she a ho, she f*ck the opps
I need a ho, 'cause I wanna f*ck a lot
I need a bitch who gon' send me naked pictures
I need a bitch so I can get naked with her
I need a bitch who gon' f*ck 'cause I got figures
I need a bitch who gon' f*ck 'cause I'm that nigga
Manager, sugar daddy, I'm your daddy
Make you, make you cry, make you happy
Zeus network, you a f*ckin' baddie
Pull up to the Addy

Do that shit you do on OnlyFans (do that shit, do that shit)
Girl, treat me like your only fan (do that)
I'll show you better than I can tell you (I'll show you better than I can tell you)
I need you bad, girl, I can't help it (need you bad and I can't help it)
Uh, you need a loan, well, I can sell it (I can sell it, girl)
All that ass you got is healthy (all that ass you got)
Show that pussy with a selfie (make that pussy pop)
While you layin' on your belly
Girl, do it like your OnlyFans

I'm rich off an app
I'm rich off an app
I'm rich off an app
'Bout to throw this ass back
I'm rich off an app
I'm rich off an app
I'm rich off an app
'Bout to throw this ass back, ayy
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Keenon Jackson, Danilo Kozlov, Jason Anderson, Larry James Sanders II, Lashawn Marshall, Lucky Specht
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group




SHE PRETTY

She pretty, sadiddy, keep a bad bitch with her when she with me
She pretty, sadiddy, put her in a Lamborghini or a Bentley
She pretty, sadiddy, she like her hundreds all blue, go Nipsey
She pretty, sadiddy, she got a brand-new ass, new titties

The city dead, the city done, you niggas lied
How the f*ck you said that? Bitch we're outside
You niggas had all this time, but I'm still the guy
You niggas pulled up with fives, y'all killed the vibe
I'm used to diamonds, nine pieces, nothin' less
A hundred K for the purse and she ain't even dressed
Y'all be havin' smoke sessions, we be havin' sex
She told me pull her air and smack on that ass, yes

Zodiac sign on attitude
Gotta buy a new bag if she mad at you
She outside, yeah, nigga, in Malibu
Rodeo Drive, up Melrose Avenue
Pussy wet, no lube, no jiffy
Pretty and sadiddy, so these hoes gon' envy
She know her worth, with that cat, she stingy
She gave me cat when I put in that fishy

She pretty, sadiddy, keep a bad bitch with her when she with me
She pretty, sadiddy, put her in a Lamborghini or a Bentley
She pretty, sadiddy, she like her hundreds all blue, go Nipsey
She pretty, sadiddy, she got brand-new ass, new titties

Uh, I ain't even tryin' to embarrass him
Give a nigga pussy, he be actin' out of character
Why you kiss and tell? Tryna change up the narrative
Repeatin' all the tea, you be soundin' like a parrot, bitch
I don't really care about the tabloids and fake news
Why these bitches tryna brag about my old dudes?
Bitch, don't come to me as a woman
If he say it for my nigga, then tell me "How was it?"

Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, where the thugs at?
Where the niggas spendin' all the money in the clubs at?
Stay away from niggas that be askin' "Where the hug at?"
Boss bitch, sittin' pretty with a fat gyat

Uh, Lord forgive me
Got a rich nigga actin' so kiddy
Big boobs, blonde hair, so Disney
More money, more deals, she litty

She pretty, sadiddy, keep a bad bitch with her when she with me
She pretty, sadiddy, put her in a Lamborghini or a Bentley
She pretty, sadiddy, she like her hundreds all blue, go Nipsey
She pretty, sadiddy, she got a brand-new ass, new titties

She pretty, sadiddy, keep a bad bitch with her when she with me
She pretty, sadiddy, put her in a Lamborghini or a Bentley
She pretty, sadiddy, she like her hundreds all blue, go Nipsey
She pretty, sadiddy, she got a brand-new ass, new titties
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Keenon Jackson, Akil King, Diamonte Harper, Kameron Ulysses Jackson, Maxwell J Roda, Mike Crook, Randall Avery Hammers, Ryan Smolyanitsky
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group




PUT IT IN MY HAND

This a whole 'nother mood (this a whole 'nother mood)
This a whole 'nother Rolls (this a whole 'nother Rolls)
What the f*ck you niggas on? (What the f*ck you niggas on?)
Bitch, I'm really from the score (score, score, score, score, score)
You a tired-ass nigga (you a tired-ass nigga)
I'm a fly-ass nigga (I'm a fly-ass nigga)
Keepin' the line tight, nigga (Keepin' the line tight, nigga)
I'm just a real Bay nigga (uh)
Fresh white tee, teeth on Gold (ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy)
Bouncin' out the coupe with a patty to bail on (ayy)
(Slide, slide, slide, slide, slide, slide, slide)

I do what I want, I don't live for a ho
Make cheese when I want, smoke weed when I want
(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Bitch, put it in my hand

Million dollars cash, stop playin' (nah)
In my bed, your bitch layin' (yeah)
Bitch, put it in my hand
Niggas know I've been gettin' bands
On the low, these niggas fans
Bitch, put it in my hand
This an AP, not a Carti'
This ain't a Corvette, this a 'Rari
Bitch, put it in my hand
I'm a street-nigga turned artist
Bitch, don't get me started
Bitch, put it in my hand

I'm in a whole 'nother mode, F.A. Spider, neck full of Gold
I'm hittin' all different hoes
This dick known, baby, all around the globe
I'm Hollywood, 'cause I'm f*ckin' on an address
From the hood, so I f*ck her on a mattress
Gymnastics, make her do a backflip
She half-good girl, half-bad bitch
Chains on me, this shit glitter
Bitch, you can see the dick print through the dinner
Forty on my hip, I'm a Bomptown nigga
Stash in the coupe, police know I hit 'em
Park the 'Rari by the double-R Rolls
Them four-hundred niggas be f*ckin' y'all hoes
Shoot up the club, should've skeeted in her nose
Woke up the next mornin' like "No"

Bitch, put it in my hand
Million dollars cash, stop playin' (nah)
In my bed, your bitch layin' (yeah)
Bitch, put it in my hand
Niggas know I've been gettin' bands
On the low, these niggas fans
Bitch, put it in my hand
This an AP, not a Carti'
This ain't a Corvette, this a 'Rari
Bitch, put it in my hand
I'm a street-nigga turned artist
Bitch, don't get me started
Bitch, put it in my hand

Alright (yeah)
Gettin' high, hella fly
That nigga, no lie
Two Westside niggas doin' it up
No lie, no lie
Gang shit
I did it, I ride
Never no lame shit
Get high, hella fly
Nigga got your bitch in a whip, droptop
That nigga, no lie
She givin' brain and shit
No lie, no lie
F*ck livin'
Bitch, put it in my hand
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Keenon Jackson, Larry Eugene Hendricks, Denis Raab
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group




STREET LOVE

Yeah, yeah
Yeah, yeah
Yeah

Me I got the password and keys for them (4Hunnid)
I got street love 'cause I'm real, goddamn
I hold no grudges, just cheer for them
But I don't give a f*ck, I no fear no them
Me I got the password and keys for them
I got street love 'cause I'm real, goddamn
I hold no grudges, just cheer for them
But I don't give a f*ck, I no fear no them

Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Ahsante Mola kwa kipaji
Ahsante baraka za mama
Salute kwa my gang na kwa my gs
Wanaonifanya nisichoke pambana
And I believe in God, I've been hidin' hard
Win in silence, I let my success screamin' loud
And I believe in God, I've been hidin' hard
Win in silence I let my success

Me I got the password and keys for them
I got street love 'cause I'm real, goddamn
I hold no grudges, just cheer for them
But I don't give a f*ck, I no fear no them (uh)
Me I got the password and keys for them (yeah)
I got street love 'cause I'm real, goddamn (yeah, ayy)
I hold no grudges, just cheer for them (ayy, yeah)
But I don't give a f*ck, I no fear no them (ayy)

Let me talk my shit, street love, I'm a street thug
Just give me respect, I don't need hugs
A-b-c-d-e-f, I'm G'd up
Tree top Bompton, I'm T'd up
Off the Cherry Bomb, I don't need drugs
Hit it on the floor, make her knees scrub
Be respectful when you greet us
'Cause the Glock Christian, it'll let you meet Jesus
You know it's whoopty, I come from slidin' at hookies
Lil Tecca thirty and the stick Lil Uzi's
Show me the money, I came to eat, I'm a foodie
Standin' on business, bitch, f*ck you, sue me
I could never lose me, give her ever loochie
When you gettin' loochie, you know it come with the coochie
Gangster, never boujee, Prada down in Louis
I don't hold grudges, I hold Uzi's

Me I got the password and keys for them (4Hunnid)
I got street love 'cause I'm real, goddamn
I hold no grudges, just cheer for them
But I don't give a f*ck, I no fear no them (uh)
Me I got the password and keys for them (yeah)
I got street love 'cause I'm real, goddamn (yeah, ayy)
I hold no grudges, just cheer for them (ayy, yeah)
But I don't give a f*ck, I no fear no them (ayy)

Oh, I'm livin' my life (I'm livin' my life, motherf*cker)
Oh, I'm livin' my life (let's all get right, motherf*cker)
Oh, I'm livin' my life (I'm a top boy, I don't wanna f*ck)
Oh, I'm livin' my life (real street nigga, I can make that call)

Just so you know
Whatever I'ma do, we do it for this street
We do it for the gang
Topper shit, period
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Keenon Jackson, Naseeb Abdul Juma Issack, Salmin Kasimu Maengo
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group




HER WAY <3

[Kalan.FrFr & YG]
Yeah, yeah, yeah
What's up, bae?
You know you get your way with me every time

[Kalan.FrFr & YG]
When I hit you up, don't be surprised (I hit you up)
When you wanna f*ck, when I'm on your mind (You wanna f*ck)
You get your way (Get your way)
So when I hit you up, I say
What's up with that pussy?
I'm tryna pull up, come bust in that pussy
I'm on the way, bae, what's up with that pussy?
Yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah
What's up with that pussy?
I'm tryna pull up, come nut in that pussy
I'm on the way, bae, what's up with that pussy?
Yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah

[YG]
What's up with that pussy? (What's up with that pussy?)
What's up with that mouth? (What's up with that mouth?)
F*ck in that shower, ayy (F*ck in that shower)
F*ck on that couch (F*ck on that couch)
Smack on that ass, ayy (Smack on that ass)
Make that shit bounce (Make that shit bounce)
Pussy like designer, ayy (Pussy like de—, what?)
I wore that shit out, ayy
I'm a G, we gon' keep this on the DL like how you kept your BBL
Them baby heads, ooh, them nails, you know the devil in the details
Sexy, I'm gon' call you Red, f*ck you good and give you head
Got one leg behind your head, gettin' choked while I stroke that pussy, yeah

[Kalan.FrFr & YG]
When I hit you up, don't be surprised (I hit you up)
When you wanna f*ck, when I'm on your mind (You wanna f*ck)
You get your way (Get your way)
So when I hit you up, I say
What's up with that pussy?
I'm tryna pull up, come bust in that pussy
I'm on the way, bae, what's up with that pussy?
Yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah
What's up with that pussy?
I'm tryna pull up, come nut in that pussy
I'm on the way, bae, what's up with that pussy?
Yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah

[YG]
I stretch that pussy tissue, I'm hittin' it like I miss you
I'm puttin' babies in you, I think that mom shit fits you
That pussy wet and stupid, that pussy just got flew in
That pussy got power, use it, got me ah-ah and oohin'
From the back, she like when I beat it up
She close her eyes, she seein' stuff
Bust her down like she my crush
She like, "Bae, don't be so rough"
Slow it down, speed it up
That circle stroke please her much
Sixty-nine, I eat it up
She give me brain, she get good f*ck

[Kalan.FrFr]
When I hit you up, don't be surprised
When you wanna f*ck, when I'm on your mind
You get your way
So when I hit you up, I say
What's up with that pussy?
I'm tryna pull up, come bust in that pussy
I'm on the way, bae, what's up with that pussy?
Yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah
What's up with that pussy?
I'm tryna pull up, come nut in that pussy
I'm on the way, bae, what's up with that pussy?
Yeah-yeah, yeah-yeah

Ooh, this shit just made my pussy wet
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher




IT'S GIVIN

[ Featuring Ty Dolla $ign ]

It's yo' slim waist, it's yo' slim waist, yo' pretty face

Uh, it's yo' slim waist, yo' pretty face
Yo' slim thighs, but yo' ass fat
Today I got time, nah, I ain't in a rush to smash that
The way you swag be abstract
I think I can match that
F*ck playing games, we past that
I hit it raw, tryna trap that, that's what you givin'
I done sinnin' like Mardi Gras, all natural 'cause I don't do plastic
I don't f*ck with Barbie dolls
She wanna sniff coke off my dick, she like to party hard
I'ma do that ass right, do that ass right, I'm your bodyguard
I'm like, "Baby, if I fall asleep, just rape me"
Do you eat meat, girl? Taste me
F*cked you all night, make me
Sexjob be crazy, this dick don't get lazy
Disrespect her in the bed, that's how I treat my lady

'Cause that's just what it's givin'
What-, that's what it's givin'
In the bedroom, let's get missing
On your waist, that's what I'm gripping
I'm your water, way I'm swimming
I'm a dive in it, I'm deep in, no, woah
That's what it's givin'
Like a waterfall, pussy tropical
I'm tryna kill that shit, send you to the hospital
That's what it's-

Good sex, you got that wet-wet
Good deep throat, give me that neck-neck
Made you choke, I made you sweat (sweat)
Need it raw, made you get tested
Bitch, you guessed it
All this honey, nah, I barely get rejected
Keep a Smith and Wesson 'cause I gotta stay protected
Walk through the and I never get detected
And I never talk to detectives (detectives)
What's understood ain't gotta be explained
That body language been callin' my name
Like, shush, listen, make love, that's what it's givin'
She told me, "Leave it in," that's how they get you
So deep inside, I made you cry, hold on, let me get you some tissue
Ooh, when I get f- not a issue, gotta film, gotta go digital
Gotta make a visual, percs got me feelin' like I'm invincible
Tell me why its hittin' for, ooh-ooh

'Cause that's just what it's givin' (oh yeah)
What-, that's what it's givin' (what it's givin')
In the bedroom, let's get missing (missing)
On your waist, that's what I'm gripping (gripping)
I'm your water, way I'm swimming (ooh-woah-ooh)
I'm a dive in it, I'm deep in, no, woah, woah
That's what it's givin'
Like a waterfall, pussy tropical
I'm tryna kill that shit, send you to the hospital (my babygirl)
That's what it's givin'

It's giving like, get you pregnant and have some children
Get you a little quarter million, help you start that business
No lie, baby, girls need love too
I'm tryna get saved, come save me
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Keenon Jackson, Tyrone Griffin, Jr., Jasper Harris, Isaac De Boni, Elie Rizk, Darhyl Camper Jr, Danny Chien, Michael Mule
Copyright: Lyrics © CONCORD MUSIC PUBLISHING LLC, Warner Chappell Music, Inc.




INTERLUDE

Just Re'd Up 3, bitch

Bae
Yeah, daddy?
Help me count this paper real quick
Ugh, the money's so dirty
So what?
Look, that's one-hundred, two-hundred
Three-hundred (Three-hundred)
Four-hundred, five-hundred
Damn, how much money we gon' count?
Six-hundred, seven-hundred, eight-hundred
Nine-hundred, that's a ticket
Damn
Look, you see that
Nigga I'm payin' attention
One-point-one, one-point-two
One-point-three (Point-three)
One-point-four
That's one-point-four million dollars
Damn, we rich
Nah, I'm rich
Rude, pick up your phone
Alright, alright, hold on, hold on
Hello?
Ayy, Jizzle, niggas out here with your name in they mouth
Bro, it's time to go up
Wait, what?
I just got done countin' one-point-four million dollars
Nigga, you wanna call me with all that rah, rah shit
I'm too rich, nigga
Nah, nigga, f*ck all that
These niggas keep bringin' up your name, nigga
It's time you do somethin'
On Bloods, nigga, if I pop out, I'm blackin' out
Black out then, nigga
On Blood
Oh, yeah?
Yeah
Okay, that's what niggas want, huh?
Yeah
Alright, Blood, Pyru
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Keenon Jackson, Mike Crook
Copyright: Lyrics © TUNECORE INC




MALIBU

Ferrari cost six hundred thousand, stop playin' with me
Hundreds with the blue faces, feelin' Nipsey
Louis V briefcases, gettin' tipsy
Keep it with me, it's a murder if a nigga tempt me
The streets talkin', you niggas know what it do
With some money, I could never imagine you
I be ducked off, I ain't got nothin' to prove
I'm in Malibu with a nigga boo

I start a lot of shit 'cause I'm a shit talker
Found out I f*cked his bitch 'cause he a stalker
She drink cum like it's water
Bad bitch, ass fatter than Ms. Parker
Maybachs back-to-back when I'm pullin' up
Paranoid as f*ck with the fully tucked
Actin' like he don't bleed, oh, you tough?
Like stuntmans can't die doin' stunts
Trunk in the front, it's a foreign
After the sex, the bitch borin'
Run up a check, I'm goin' tourin'
In my mansion, I got marble floorin'
F8 spot and not your average coupe
I drop the top and throw up the Whoop
Big dog, I'm the Blood Snoop
Message to the opps, nigga, f*ck you

Ferrari cost six hundred thousand, stop playin' with me
Hundreds with the blue faces, feelin' Nipsey
Louis V briefcases, gettin' tipsy
Keep it with me, it's a murder if a nigga tempt me
The streets talkin', you niggas know what it do (niggas know what's up)
With some money, I could never imagine you (broke-ass nigga)
I be ducked off, I ain't got nothin' to prove (at all)
I'm in Malibu with a nigga boo (let's get it)

Don't come to me 'bout no lil' shit, I get M's, nigga (don't do that)
Ice water on me, lonely as Slim, nigga (real nigga)
You in your feelings 'bout a bitch, you a bitch, nigga (you a ho)
I'm from that city where we hustle 'til we rich, nigga (Detroit)
I ain't talkin' seatbelts when I say we ridin' strapped
Lil' bro ain't no producer, but can hit you with them packs
Treat my niggas like my brothers, have my front, I got your back
Best prices and quality, f*ck with us or go get taxed (get with us)
We don't want no smoke, we just want more money (just want more cheese)
I call the whip YG 'cause it was four hundred (4Hunnid)
Ayy, let them niggas have the 'net, man, they ain't know nothin'
We control the city, we touch down, it be like homecomin' (oh yeah)
Blue hundreds, but it's blood money, call him Rich Red (blood)
Step on niggas' heads, all that politickin' shit dead
One day in your city, do a show, then break your bitch bed
Was full of mouth, got his ass popped, now he full of meds

Ferrari cost six hundred thousand, stop playin' with me (stop playin' with me)
Hundreds with the blue faces, feelin' Nipsey
Louis V briefcases, gettin' tipsy
Keep it with me, it's a murder if a nigga tempt me
The streets talkin', you niggas know what it do
With some money, I could never imagine you
I be ducked off, I ain't got nothin' to prove
I'm in Malibu with a nigga boo (ayy)

Ayy, five summers straight, flipped ten foreigns
I'm still in Bel Air totin' big guns
Hoppin' on flights like I'm on the run
Strip clubs every night 'cause that shit fun
See me blowin' through the light, bust a sharp right
Two-door, matte-black like The Dark Knight
I pull up, gat sprayin', I ain't Batman
Yellow diamonds, give me head, Ms. Pac-Man (ayy)
Trap niggas send the bucks when the pack land
Spent enough, now she wanna f*ck for the bands
White friend wanna f*ck me with her black friend
And these hoes can't believe what's the backend
Get the backend, got 'em clappin' in the stands
I just pray to God I don't gotta clap again
Posted on the 'Gram, now I gotta wrap the Benz
Couple more years, I won't have to rap again

Ferrari cost six hundred thousand, stop playin' with me
Hundreds with the blue faces, feelin' Nipsey
Louis V briefcases, gettin' tipsy
Keep it with me, it's a murder if a nigga tempt me
The streets talkin', you niggas know what it do
With some money, I could never imagine you
I be ducked off, I ain't got nothin' to prove
I'm in Malibu with a nigga boo
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Charles Nelson Forsberg II, Herbert R. Wright, Keenon Jackson, Kelton Scott II, Samual Ahana, Terry Sanchez Wallace
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management




VIOLENCE

Ayy, if you slidin', niggas dyin', with that violence, I ain't lyin'
Don't believe me, come and try, nigga
Ayy, caught me slippin', perfect timin', if you diss me, he was top
What's up with all that right, nigga?
Ayy, with the shootin' and the fightin', got em fryin'
Best friends with a dike, 'cause we don't like you niggas
Ayy, the money callin', I'm excited, flyin' private with the gang
Nigga, chains, I'm doin' life with niggas

Niggas dyin' if we slidin', hit your block with what's behind me
Click, clack, bang, the guns, they flyin'
Glizzy with a stick on it, the glizzy poppin'
Caught him slippin', we weren't tryna hide it, sick, stick to hidin'
Your gang can't hang with me, I shouldn't divide it
Gangster on the internet, but he a whole bitch in private
Wake up, get f*cked, then I get deposits
He's a broke boy, 'cause he don't get the process
Four-hundred milli', that's a must, nigga
No, I don't trust niggas, so I got a trust, nigga (ayy)
Plus the crib plush, nigga
Seven-hundred horsepower, left 'em in the dust, nigga (ayy)
See an opp and get a rush, nigga
Somethin' wrong with me, really, what the f*ck is up, nigga?
Beefin' with a rapper, but he suck, nigga
I'm like the goose, when you see me, better duck, nigga

Ayy, if you slidin', niggas dyin', with that violence, I ain't lyin'
Don't believe me, come and try, nigga
Ayy, caught me slippin', perfect timin', if you diss me, he was top
What's up with all that right, nigga?
Ayy, with the shootin' and the fightin', got em fryin'
Best friends with a dike, 'cause we don't like you niggas
Ayy, the money callin', I'm excited, flyin' private with the gang
Nigga, chains, I'm doin' life with niggas

I'm in the streets where niggas be
A hundred-thousand, it's on me, I move around like I'm OG
You bitches, you ain't shit to me
You niggas, you ain't shit to me, you'll never be a nigga to me
All my mans dyin' and it's a victory
Ballin' out with my nigga, send a check, we split the fee
Niggas tryna re-write history
Claimin' he's a nigga in my city, he's a mystery
F*ck it, hit the Lamb' to the truck
Quick fast, got to pump, do 'em sad, sad as f*ck
The opps trash, bag 'em up
His bitch bad, bad as f*ck, slaughter gang, stab her up
I'm on some whole other drip now
The AP Plain Jane, but I bust your bitch down
Ridin' with the bros, we got blicks out
Real street nigga, over me, they gon' spin out

Ayy, if you slidin', niggas dyin', with that violence, I ain't lyin'
Don't believe me, come and try, nigga
Ayy, caught me slippin', perfect timin', if you diss me, he was top
What's up with all that right, nigga?
Ayy, with the shootin' and the fightin', got em fryin'
Best friends with a dike, 'cause we don't like you niggas
Ayy, the money callin', I'm excited, flyin' private with the gang
Nigga, chains, I'm doin' life with niggas
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Keenon Jackson, Teron Mason, Samual Ahana, Diego Avendano
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group




RESCUE ME

Wheezy outta here
Wheezy outta here

Ayy, somebody rescue me (woah)
Ayy, somebody rescue me (ayy)
Too many eaters in the SUV
I got too many eaters in the SUV
Ayy, somebody rescue me (woah)
Ayy, somebody rescue me
I got too many eaters in the SUV
Too many eaters in the SUV

I'm a gangsta, baby, don't tell me what you won't do
We can make a movie, not the one for YouTube
Put the pussy on me, put it on me like it's voodoo
Hop on the dick, it drive me crazy, cuckoo
One, two, three, four, too many bitches
I don't know what to do with these bitches
One wanna f*ck me in the car, in the trenches
Said while she gaggin', grab up on her extensions
Another one, tryna make her positions
The other one said "Slut her out", gave me permission
The lady of the group, she's a physician
Told me "Get a counter", she got me on a mission
The baddest out the group, want me to herself
Heard that pussy good, reviewed on Yelp
All these hoes to myself, 9-1-1, call the bros, I need help

Ayy, somebody rescue me (woah)
Ayy, somebody rescue me (ayy)
Too many eaters in the SUV
I got too many eaters in the SUV
Ayy, somebody rescue me (woah)
Ayy, somebody rescue me
I got too many eaters in the SUV
Too many eaters in the SUV

Too many eaters, too many eaters
Too many eaters with upgraded bodies
Too many perfect features
Now my most favorite tryna turn me to a cheater
Said the name was Kenny, tryna turn me to a eater
Rappin' Lil Wayne songs, tell me, dick pleaser
Told me put it in her mouth, she's a sick creature
This bitch a trip, I'm talkin' 6 Visas
Said she ain't worried 'bout my bitch either
She a keeper, just keep it on the low
'Cause f*cking me I'm the type, you want your friends to know
I'm the type to f*ck your friend and ghost
My bitch bad, her friend bad, I'm in love with both
With this eatin' shit, she's a pro
She ain't worried 'bout title, she's a hoe
She said she want me in her throat
I ain't tryna throw my girl ph balance off gold

Ayy, somebody rescue me (woah)
Ayy, somebody rescue me (ayy)
Too many eaters in the SUV
I got too many eaters in the SUV
Ayy, somebody rescue me (woah)
Ayy, somebody rescue me
I got too many eaters in the SUV
Too many eaters in the SUV
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Keenon Jackson, Sean Momberger, Tyrone Griffin, Jr, Wesley Glass
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group




KOLORS

Uh-oh
(Diego)

I just poured an eight of dope
To celebrate the trip he took, he let that kata blow
I'm 'bout whatever with my dogs, whichever way it go
We bulletproof the SUV, just tryna make it home (ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy)
They takin' photos with they poles instead of savin' souls
They show me work when my big brother had to take control
The streets is mine, don't let em lie that you don't play the role
About the last nigga that shh (yeah), say no more
If niggas know me, then they know your nigga known for crammin' (bah, bah, bah, bah)
We slap buttons on the glizzy, got him speakin' Spanish (bah, bah, bah, bah)
Call it documented funk when niggas Instagrammin' (yeah)
Pump it to me out in traffic, see who's really hittin'
Let's see who really blammin'

Red rag flaggin'-ass nigga (red raggin')
Big bag ratchet-ass nigga (big bag)
Bad bitch havin'-ass nigga (bad, bad)
To the bank, laughin'-ass nigga (yeah, that)
Red rag flaggin'-ass nigga (red raggin')
Big bag ratchet-ass nigga (big bag)
Bad bitch havin'-ass nigga (bad, bad)
To the bank, laughin'-ass nigga (yeah, that)

To the bank I f*ckin' go, she a ho, I love her though
To the face, I'm chuckin' fours, big Bs on the road
Caught him slippin', took his soul, oh well, f*ck him though
What the f*ck was up with Blood? Thought he was untouchable 400 Hell Gang, yeah, we in the flesh
Roomy CMs, but we don't take no disrespect
Dislocate a nigga jaw if he diss the set
I just hit the bitch raw, ooh, her shit was wet
Red rag flaggin', thirty-four savage
All my niggas havin', we ain't carryin' no baggage
YG so ratchet, you know we keep a ratchet
Bulletproof the Caddy, 'cause nigga, we ain't never lackin'

Red rag flaggin'-ass nigga (ayy, 400, red raggin')
Big bag ratchet-ass nigga (yeah, baggin')
Bad bitch havin'-ass nigga (bad, bad)
To the bank, laughin'-ass nigga (yeah, that)
Red rag flaggin'-ass nigga (red raggin')
Big bag ratchet-ass nigga (big bag)
Bad bitch havin'-ass nigga (bad, bad, you know what's happenin')
To the bank, laughin'-ass nigga (yeah, that)

Uh, I'm at the bank tryna hit the teller, uh-huh
I got a shank and a block, Beretta, ooh, ooh
Inglewood, bitch, we do it better, uh
Two point five with the corals on Saint Ella
My voicemail jail calls from them grave diggers
Two times for the hood, we only raise killers
No morals, no respect, who made niggas? (Who?)
So whip him with a check, which gang member? Uh-uh
They can't f*ck with me, I promise (I promise)
Ayy, bitch, I'm V.I.P., I'm probably (I'm probably)
If I f*ck with you, you should be honest (should know)
Dolo gang, we gon' spin 'til we nauseous, nigga (Uh)

Red rag flaggin'-ass nigga (red raggin')
Big bag ratchet-ass nigga (big bag, woo)
Bad bitch havin'-ass nigga (bad, bad)
To the bank, laughin'-ass nigga (yeah, that)
Red rag flaggin'-ass nigga (red raggin')
Big bag ratchet-ass nigga (big bag)
Bad bitch havin'-ass nigga (bad, bad)
To the bank, laughin'-ass nigga (yeah, that)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Keenon Jackson, Teron Mason, Kanacio Martin, Diego Avendano, Timothy Patterson, Wilson Whitlock
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group




LOVE MAKE

I got your legs spread all over the bed
Hands clenched in the sheets
Hair wild as hell, I know
The only thing on your mind is sexin' me
Girl, I can feel your temperature risin'
You should feel my nature too
Come on, it's gonna be a bumpy ride
Girl, let's do what we came to do
Girl, when we make love all night (when we makin' good love)
When we make good love all night
When we make love all night
We really make love (do you know the love?)
Girl, when we make love all night (when we makin' good love)
When we make good love all night (oh)
When we make love all night
We really make love (come to daddy, baby)

When we make love, girl, I kiss you
Hit you from the back, you can't see me 'cause I'm in you
You got all that ass, I'ma smack it, make it jiggle
Bitin' on your neck, you can't take it, say it tickle
Rounds are goin' triple, f*ck me 'til my heart stop
Be careful with the head, baby, that's my soft spot
Make her feel special, so for me, she make her jaw drop
Brand-new car, she gettin' f*cked on a hard top
Hell yeah, we made love
Hell yeah, I beat it up
I'm the fiend, she the drug
That pussy good, somebody please call the plug
You know how it go when I get you and you all alone
Talk to you nice, huh, finesse you out that thong
Pullin' on your hair, I'm too f*ckin' strong
Tequila got us actin' grown

I got your legs spread all over the bed
Hands clenched in the sheets (in the sheets)
Hair wild as hell, I know (I know, I know, I know)
The only thing on your mind is sexin' me
Girl, I can feel your temperature risin'
You should feel my nature too (feel it too)
Come on, it's gonna be a bumpy ride
Girl, let's do what we came to do (let's go, let's go)
Girl, when we make love all night (when we makin' good love)
When we make good love all night
When we make love all night
We really make love (do you know the love?)
Girl, when we make love all night (when we makin' good love)
When we make good love all night (oh)
When we make love all night
We really make love (come to daddy, baby)

Left stoke, left stroke, left stroke
Kiss you while I hit it missionary, death stroke
Tryna kill it like-, take your breath, though
From the back, ayy, doggystyle, Petco
No next ho, forever want you in my life
You got that bomb-ass pussy, that shit wet and tight
When I'm in it, I play with the clit, set you right
When baby put that bonnet on, she give me neck at night
Baby, you my type and I want you
Fumblin' you, I won't do
Spit in your mouth, I'm gon' do, I'm on you
Lately, we've been f*ckin' to old schools
Eat the booty like groceries from Whole Foods
Doin' everything I said I won't do, I'm on you

I got your legs spread all over the bed
Hands clenched in the sheets (in the sheets)
Hair wild as hell, I know (I know, I know, I know)
The only thing on your mind is sexin' me
Girl, I can feel your temperature risin'
You should feel my nature too (feel it too)
Come on, it's gonna be a bumpy ride
Girl, let's do what we came to do (let's go, let's go)
Girl, when we make love all night (when we makin' good love)
When we make good love all night
When we make love all night
We really make love (do you know the love?)
Girl, when we make love all night (when we makin' good love)
When we make good love all night (oh)
When we make love all night
We really make love (come to daddy, baby)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Dijon McFarlane, Jason Wilkinson, Jeremiah Dickerson, Keenon Jackson, Larry James Sanders II, Myron Avant, Steve Huff
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group




STUPID

(Mustard on the beat, ho)

Oh, damn, y'all done f*cked up
This beat hittin' like Bruce Lee with the nunchucks
Before the court room judge us
Please, wrong way, don't rub us
F*ck, yeah, when it's beef, I eat cow
You ain't got chicken, but catchin' Z's, sweet pile (sweet pile)
Niggas know what I be 'bout
Stop playin', I'll knock a nigga clean out
Yeah, I got bitches
Ugly nigga only got 'em 'cause my riches
I done made it out the trenches
I believe I'm him, I'm religious
I couldn't see me without a check (without a check)
Me without a check, I'm a wreck
Penitentiary, chances, took 'em to the neck (to the neck)
The money feel better than sex, oh

Yeah, let's get to it
If crime pays, I'ma do it
Remember them days I was slidin' in the Buick
Now I'm up goin' stupid, stupid
I just took a model off my checklist, stupid
I just put a X on my ex-bitch, stupid
I'm the type to take by the necklace, stupid
Made it off the block like Tetris

Ayy, niggas be the loudest with no f*ckin' money (skee)
I be blowin' bitches backs off two packs of- (wah)
How you sent your boys to war with no ammunition?
Yeah, you put up Rolls Royce, but it's standard edition (wah)
Found out what you hit this shit like a bad magician
This enough to cook his waiter, lose existence
You wanna roll with the bad boys like Isiah's Pistons
My dog ain't pop nan Perc', but his index itchin' (brrt)
He was quick with the TEC like a paid-off ref
Ten on the MAC, coupe got me hard on X (yeah)
Free Jeff, we ain't spoke since before he left
Shit got hard, they turned left, niggas know that ain't right (yeah)
I'm with Ju dropped a six in the Cranberry Sprite
Geekin', I vibe through the night like a well made kite
On a mail man lawn tryna check my pints
Bitch, it go, I would've fight, everything on sight

Yeah, let's get to it
If crime pays, I'ma do it
Remember them days I was slidin' in the Buick
Now I'm up goin' stupid, stupid
I just took a model off my checklist, stupid
I just put a X on my ex-bitch, stupid
I'm the type to take by the necklace, stupid
Made it off the block like Tetris

Man, you niggas got me f*cked up
'Fore I sell my soul for this shit I'll sell drugs
Yeah, pussy-nigga ain't got no love
High ass nigga sleep on a mop, must be poured up
Ha, you ain't never had to show up
Baby mama called child support 'cause I'm goin' dumb
Yeah, out in Bomp' 'cause I know the thugs
Louis Vuitton cross chains like I bang blood
I just scratched a baddie off my checklist, bitch
Man, yo' average budget on my necklace, bitch
Niggas love front faces not that rich
Tell it to the thotties when I show them my crib
Real niggas do real things
Real numbers, real fans, ain't a thing change
Yeah, top down in the fast lane
Hands up, thank a God that the bag came, bitch

Yeah, let's get to it
If crime pays, I'ma do it
Remember them days I was slidin' in the Buick
Now I'm up goin' stupid, stupid
I just took a model off my checklist, stupid
I just put a X on my ex-bitch, stupid
I'm the type to take by the necklace, stupid
Made it off the block like Tetris
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Benjamin Falik, Dijon McFarlane, Kameron Ulysses Jackson, Keenon Jackson, Marcellus Rayvon Register, Michael Crooms, Miles Parks McCollum, Randy Holmes, Solomon Anderson, Warren Mathis
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




MY FAVORITE

Yeah
What up, baby?
I'm tellin' you, like, I really f*ck with you though, you know what I'm sayin'?
No cap
Look, uh (B-B-Bankroll Got It)

I can see you in my bed with your fine ass
See me between your legs with your fine ass
Sex tape, hold up, hold up, girl, rewind that
You be tellin' me you love me with your lyin' ass
I got a light hundred K on me right now
Tryna spend it on you since you wifed now
You been havin' lil' problems with your life, how?
F*ck with me, baby girl, I'll get you right now
Let's go, vacay just to make love
I don't wanna do nothin', just lay up
Spend it all on you 'til I'm bankrupt
Bad bitch, tell her she don't need makeup
Thinkin' 'bout you, I'm like, "Bae, what you up to?"
She said, "Nothin'," I said, "Bae, girl, I love you"
Precious, gotta be gentle when I f*ck you
But she gon' thug it out with me, that's my thug boo

Yeah, yeah
Thug you (thug you)
F*ckin' on you
I'm runnin' through the loop (the loop)
Put you in a new coupe, oh yeah (oh yeah, oh yeah)
I can see you in the loop, oh yeah (oh yeah)
I can see you in my room without no panties on
F*ckin' to your favorite song (favorite song)
Cause i'm you're favorite

Yeah, my boo (my boo, my boo)
Ain't nobody like you (nobody like you)
'Cause you, yeah, you my favorite too (yeah, yeah, yeah)
'Cause you're my favorite (yeah, yeah)
'Cause you're my baby ('cause you're my baby)
'Cause you're my boo (you my boo)
'Cause you're my, 'cause you're my, my, my
Yeah, my boo (my boo, my boo)
Ain't nobody like you (nobody like you)
'Cause you, yeah, you my favorite too (yeah, yeah, yeah)
'Cause you're my favorite (yeah, yeah)
'Cause you're my baby ('cause you're my baby)
'Cause you're my boo (you my boo)
'Cause you're my, my, my, my, my

My boo thing
Hit you on the first night, shootin' range
I'm a munch how I eat it, food chain
I'm tryna see somethin', send them new things
Tity Boi, I hit it in two chains
Ocean view, we chillin' where the fruit hang
Cullinan swerve in and out of two lanes
Pisces gang, bitch, I got mood swings
Out of all my loves, you my favorite
On board, let's PJ to Vegas
When I'm with you, I see changes
Got my old hoes mad, they hatin'
Phases, that's what we goin' through
The love real, we done made it through the honeymoon
We in June, last March, started f*ckin' you
Now I'm givin' backshots while I'm huggin' you

Yeah, yeah
Thug you (thug you)
F*ckin' on you
I'm runnin' through the loop (the loop)
Put you in a new coupe, oh yeah (oh yeah, oh yeah)
I can see you in the loop, oh yeah (oh yeah)
I can see you in my room without no panties on
F*ckin' to your favorite song (favorite song)
'Cause I'm your favorite

Yeah, my boo (my boo, my boo)
Ain't nobody like you (nobody like you)
'Cause you, yeah, you my favorite too (yeah, yeah, yeah)
'Cause you're my favorite (yeah, yeah)
'Cause you're my baby ('cause you're my baby)
'Cause you're my boo
'Cause you're my, 'cause you're my, my, my
Yeah, my boo (my boo, my boo)
Ain't nobody like you (nobody like you)
'Cause you, yeah, you my favorite too (yeah, yeah, yeah)
'Cause you're my favorite (yeah, yeah)
'Cause you're my baby ('cause you're my baby)
'Cause you're my boo (you my boo)
'Cause you're my, my, my, my, my
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Keenon Jackson, Kalan Montgomery, Taylor Banks, Tyler Hooks, Joel Banks, Eric Klem
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group




KNOCKA

4Hunnid
Uh-oh

This shit is a knocker, a bopper, a knocker, like choppers
The boppers, they love me, they show up, give topper
The Benjis, the Benzos, the reason I gotta
Then cha-cha, we slid, the reason we got ya
The oppers, the coppers get no love, get nada
The block'll get hotter and hotter and hotter
It's in me, so they envy, try reachin' for the watch-a
The Glock'll go "blakka", go "blakka", and "blakka"

I do this, it's nada, I hit your baby mama
Suckin' them titties like a baby, give me baba
I'm f*ckin' on a Iggy, was f*ckin' on a Lala
My new bitch give me throat, I call her Lady Gaga
My roster don't let me get messy, like pasta
The movies, I made 'em with bitches, need Oscars
The Gucci, the Louis, the Fendi, the Prada
The Saint, the runners and Balenciagas
The money buy plenty, the pennies, the dollars
The nickels, the dimes came straight from the bottoms
The bottom, the bottom, but the top is where they spot 'em
And when you on the top, all the boppers let you dot 'em
Her daddy went home, now lil' daddy got her
Slut her out proper like NLE Choppa
Got shotters on shotters on shotters on shotters
Wipe a nigga nose like, "Nigga, clean that snot up"

This shit is a knocker, a bopper, a knocker, like choppers
The boppers, they love me, they show up, give topper
The Benjis, the Benzos, the reason I gotta
Then cha-cha, we slid, the reason we got ya
The oppers, the coppers get no love, get nada
The block'll get hotter and hotter and hotter
It's in me, so they envy, try reachin' for the watch-a
The Glock'll go "blakka", go "blakka", and "blakka"

See, no singin', it's an opera, bank on Big Poppa
I don't trust a soul, once you sleep, I gotta watch you
Ayy, when you top me, do it sloppy when I'm tied up
If you a loyal bitch, I get you gifts, yeah, I got you
She tryna hit a nae nae, I'm tryna hear the ah-ah
These hoes thirsty for a nigga, they need wawa
Good pussy, when you inside, it feel like lava
Good morning, woke up to a check, I feel like "haha"
Gettin' cheese enchiladas, the Glock came with lobsters
Chill, 'fore you niggas shellfish and hit your block up
Boy, get your stock up, 'kay, get your knot up
I heard bitch around the name, that's how you know it ain't about us
Left her wet, mop up, let them legs lock up
In a rich nigga mansion where that good head got you
4Hunnid 'til they stop us, but who gon' stop us?
Stop us, stop us, who, us? Not us

This shit is a knocker, a bopper, a knocker, like choppers
The boppers, they love me, they show up, give topper
The Benjis, the Benzos, the reason I gotta
Then cha-cha, we slid, the reason we got ya
The oppers, the coppers get no love, get nada
The block'll get hotter and hotter and hotter
It's in me, so they envy, try reachin' for the watch-a
The Glock'll go "blakka", go "blakka", and "blakka"
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Danilo Kozlov, Juan Antonio Maserati, Justinano Orquera, Larry James Sanders II, Lashawn Marshall, Ruben Horaico Lotes
Copyright: Lyrics © Peermusic Publishing




PIMP MY RIDE

JUST RE'D UP 3
Yeah
You know we livin' that life, standin' on business
Us, never them
We work hard for this shit
(Hey, I'm really rich)

Bitch, you know the vibes
Got the city, got the bitty, got it goin' live
Not too friendly, got the semi when I'm with my guys
I got millis, so I might, f*ck it, pimp my ride
Ridin' twenty-fours way before twenty-five
Talkin' silly, stop it really 'cause we down to slide
Fashion in me, feelin' trilly, I be gettin' fly
Just crashed the Bentley, bring the Cullinan so I can drive
Tinted up, dressed in all black, I disguise

Gotta make that money last long, f*ck just gettin' by
But niggas want me dead and gone, got pistol on my side
Gotta do the right thing with these hoes, I swear I try
She left the last time I told the truth, that's why I lie
Four hundred million cash, type of shit that's on my mind
Two-twenty on the dash, them the types of whips I drive
I need that money fast, on the gang, it's on the tribe
That's on my life
I can put that on the gang, gang, make a nigga limb hang
Make him feel that pain, gang, chitty, chitty, bang, bang
In the trenches, chain hang where these niggas can't hang
Most my niggas gangbang, where they from? Flame gang
We havin' casting calls 'cause we need more boppers
My niggas eatin', they all seafood, cold lobster
We don't want no drama, we just want more commas
We don't have ho problems and you niggas know not to

Bitch, you know the vibes
Got the city, got the bitty, got it goin' live
Not too friendly, got the semi when I'm with my guys
I got millis, so I might, f*ck it, pimp my ride
Ridin' twenty-fours way before twenty-five
Talkin' silly, stop it really 'cause we down to slide
Fashion in me, feelin' trilly, I be gettin' fly
Just crashed the Bentley, bring the Cullinan so I can drive
Tinted up, dressed in all black, I disguise

Windows tinted up, suckers wanna get rid of us
You know we lit as f*ck, f*ck around and get rich with us
You niggas quick to fuss, we be quick to lit it up
Last night, did it up, woke up like I did enough
I'm 'bout stackin' cheese and blick on me actin' demon
Bitch jumpin' from nigga to nigga, hoes be trampolinin'
Told her it was packin' season, that mean she leavin'
That mean she lost me, ayy, that mean she grievin'
I'm actin' demon, I'm puttin' semen in all my hoes
I'm actin' demon, I'm sacrificin' for all my goals
I got my reason, I plot on opps and want all they souls
Them sucker niggas made me tattoo all the bros
Million-dollar nigga, gang with me, they souls shocked
Gloves with me, them thugs with me, a whole lot
F*ckin' with me the wrong way, they know not
My new bitch bad, she got her toes out

Bitch, you know the vibes
Got the city, got the bitty, got it goin' live
Not too friendly, got the semi when I'm with my guys
I got millis, so I might, f*ck it, pimp my ride
Ridin' twenty-fours way before twenty-five
Talkin' silly, stop it really 'cause we down to slide
Fashion in me, feelin' trilly, I be gettin' fly
Just crashed the Bentley, bring the Cullinan so I can drive
Tinted up, dressed in all black, I disguise

It's crazy to see where you come from
But yet to know where you're headin'
It's crazy as f*ck, huh?
Yeah, I know
The world is yours, my nigga, you just gotta keep goin'
Manifestation is a real thing, you just gotta believe
JUST RE'D UP 3
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Keenon Jackson, Enoch Harris III
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group




I'M IN LOVE

Yeah
You know, it's a crazy life I live
We live, I ain't the only one
Ayy

I'm in love with Shaniqua, I'm in love with tequila
I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in motherf*ckin' love
She see me naked, she a teaser, she f*ck me like a diva
I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in motherf*ckin' love
Just bought a Glock with a scope, keep it with me if you ain't know
I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in motherf*ckin' love
Makin' deals with the judge, do it for the gang, duh
I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in motherf*ckin' love

I f*ck with baby girl 'cause she f*ck me the best
I'm in love like a smoker with his GR check
She got them baby heads, that shit slick and wet
The neighbors think we fightin', but it's just make-up sex
That fat chunky 9 with the pistol grip
It's for anybody trippin', nigga, Blood or Crip
I feel safe when I'm with you, without you, I ain't shit
Without you, bullet hole t-shirts, I might slip
Fifth of that Julio by myself
My homies just haters, they say you bad for my health
You be gettin' me through my hard times when I need help
Tryna swim through these problems, but I ain't Michael Phelps
In love with the streets when the streets don't love me
In love with the gang, but the gang like f*ck me
Stay down and never fold, was taught by OG
Stay strapped, bust back, for the bros, you love deep

I'm in love with Shaniqua, I'm in love with tequila
I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in motherf*ckin' love
She see me naked, she a teaser, she f*ck me like a diva
I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in motherf*ckin' love
Just bought a Glock with a scope, keep it with me if you ain't know
I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in motherf*ckin' love
Makin' deals with the judge, do it for the gang, duh
I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in motherf*ckin' love

I'm in love with that check when that motherf*cker clear
I love the gang 'cause my niggas ain't with
I'm in love with this freak, she got her tongue pierced
She be suckin' dick like she ain't suck one in years
I skeet in her ears 'cause my nut treasure
Pay her for that pussy, she love me forever
When she get weird, she call on her fella
I come through forced, so I'm f*ckin' forever
I come through, F8 Spider when I come through
A hundred K like a bitch, it ain't shit, I run through
Mansion in the hills all the hoes wanna come to
F*ck her 'til she sleep, tryna make her dream come true
Love the gang so much, the foul play, I'm numb to
In the game 'til everybody eat, nigga, junk food
F*ck a nine-to-five, twenty-five every hunt, fool
It's been a long day at work, baby, what that tongue do?

I'm in love with Shaniqua, I'm in love with tequila
I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in motherf*ckin' love
She see me naked, she a teaser, she f*ck me like a diva
I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in motherf*ckin' love
Just bought a Glock with a scope, keep it with me if you ain't know
I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in motherf*ckin' love
Makin' deals with the judge, do it for the gang, duh
I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in motherf*ckin' love

I'm in love with Shaniqua, I'm in love with tequila
I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in motherf*ckin' love
She see me naked, she a teaser, she f*ck me like a diva
I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in motherf*ckin' love
Just bought a Glock with a scope, keep it with me if you ain't know
I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in motherf*ckin' love
Makin' deals with the judge, do it for the gang, duh
I'm in love, I'm in love, I'm in motherf*ckin' love
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Keenon Jackson, Dijon McFarlane
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group




Back to: YG


Performed By: YG
Released: August 16th, 2024
Year: 2024

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