Back to Top

Back to Back Video (MV)






Young Dolph - Back to Back Lyrics
Official




Let the band play
Yeah
Skrrt skrrt, skrrt, uh

Pull up foreigns back to back, back to back, back to back to back
And hop out with them racks, with them racks, yeah, with them big old racks
Ay, shout out to my set, to my set, you see it around my neck
Yeah, bitch, we like to flex, we like to flex, we ball, don't break a sweat

Yeah, all these damn dead presidents, I'm gettin' too much, it's scarin' me
F*ck these hoes, just let 'em be, can't let 'em get the best of me
Bitch, I got the recipe, can't no nigga compare to me
Yeah, all this water water on me, I might go join the swimming team
I got dough, Krispy Kreme
Fresh to death, crispy clean
Bitch I smoke Christmas trees
Got them lumps in my jeans
Diamonds jumping, trampoline
Uh, all you hear is bling (bling)
Ball so hard, they think we cheatin'
Yeah, yeah, yeah, you see it

We pull up foreigns back to back, back to back, back to back to back
And hop out with them racks, with them racks, yeah, with them big old racks
Ay, shout out to my set, to my set, you see it around my neck
Yeah, bitch, we like to flex, we like to flex, we ball, don't break a sweat

We pull up back to back, back to back to back to back to back
No, I don't play fair, shit 'round my neck jumpin' like jumping jacks
All these bitches swear that they love me, bitch, you just love these stacks
Dolph come on the radio, your girl gon' turn it up to the max
Paper Route, Paper Route, Paper Route (uh)
Motherf*ckin' business, lil' nigga (uh)
F*ck this rap shit, got some homeboys down the road doin' life sentence
Lil' nigga (free my dawgs, free my dawgs)
I never played tennis but I got racks (racks)
Eight stacks just for a backpack (racks)
See some f*ck niggas, then blatt blatt (blatt blatt)
Blatt blatt blatt blatt (ay)
Lake Michigan on my wrist (flooded)
Mississippi river on my neck (flooded)
Went to hollywood just to go flex (it's Dolph)
I took his bitch, made her my pet (bitch)
I wish all of my old hoes the best (f*ck y'all)
Me and Tray-Tray on a jet (bitch)
Blue Power Ranger on his chest, hah, blessed

Pull up foreigns back to back, back to back, back to back to back
And hop out with them racks, with them racks, yeah, with them big old racks
Ay, shout out to my set, to my set, you see it around my neck
Yeah, bitch, we like to flex, we like to flex, we ball, don't break a sweat
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.


We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.




Let the band play
Yeah
Skrrt skrrt, skrrt, uh

Pull up foreigns back to back, back to back, back to back to back
And hop out with them racks, with them racks, yeah, with them big old racks
Ay, shout out to my set, to my set, you see it around my neck
Yeah, bitch, we like to flex, we like to flex, we ball, don't break a sweat

Yeah, all these damn dead presidents, I'm gettin' too much, it's scarin' me
F*ck these hoes, just let 'em be, can't let 'em get the best of me
Bitch, I got the recipe, can't no nigga compare to me
Yeah, all this water water on me, I might go join the swimming team
I got dough, Krispy Kreme
Fresh to death, crispy clean
Bitch I smoke Christmas trees
Got them lumps in my jeans
Diamonds jumping, trampoline
Uh, all you hear is bling (bling)
Ball so hard, they think we cheatin'
Yeah, yeah, yeah, you see it

We pull up foreigns back to back, back to back, back to back to back
And hop out with them racks, with them racks, yeah, with them big old racks
Ay, shout out to my set, to my set, you see it around my neck
Yeah, bitch, we like to flex, we like to flex, we ball, don't break a sweat

We pull up back to back, back to back to back to back to back
No, I don't play fair, shit 'round my neck jumpin' like jumping jacks
All these bitches swear that they love me, bitch, you just love these stacks
Dolph come on the radio, your girl gon' turn it up to the max
Paper Route, Paper Route, Paper Route (uh)
Motherf*ckin' business, lil' nigga (uh)
F*ck this rap shit, got some homeboys down the road doin' life sentence
Lil' nigga (free my dawgs, free my dawgs)
I never played tennis but I got racks (racks)
Eight stacks just for a backpack (racks)
See some f*ck niggas, then blatt blatt (blatt blatt)
Blatt blatt blatt blatt (ay)
Lake Michigan on my wrist (flooded)
Mississippi river on my neck (flooded)
Went to hollywood just to go flex (it's Dolph)
I took his bitch, made her my pet (bitch)
I wish all of my old hoes the best (f*ck y'all)
Me and Tray-Tray on a jet (bitch)
Blue Power Ranger on his chest, hah, blessed

Pull up foreigns back to back, back to back, back to back to back
And hop out with them racks, with them racks, yeah, with them big old racks
Ay, shout out to my set, to my set, you see it around my neck
Yeah, bitch, we like to flex, we like to flex, we ball, don't break a sweat
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: Adolph Thornton, Krishon Gaines, Markeyvuis Cathey
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Songtrust Ave, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.

Back to: Young Dolph


Tags:
No tags yet