Yt Triz – My Type Of Party Lyrics

[Hook]
Let’s have a mighty party
Let’s have a lean party
Let’s have a loud party
Let’s have a big party
This is my type of party
This is my type of party
This is my type of party
This is my type of party
Let’s have a mighty party
Let’s have a lean party
Let’s have a loud party
Let’s have a big party
This is my type of party
This is my type of party
This is my type of party
This is my type of party
Let’s have a mighty party
Let’s have a lean party
Let’s have a loud party
Let’s have a big party
This is my type of party
This is my type of party
This is my type of party
This is my type of party

[Verse 1]
You look like it’s a ghost (you look like you’ve seen a ghost)
Oh no it’s just the rum (oh no it’s just the rum)
I might just steal the party (I just might steal the party)
I will not say I’m sorry
I will not drink Bacardi
Leading a fango
Cut it like mango
Face it like tango
What kind of party (what kind of party)
Are we invited (are we invited)
This something new (this something new)
You gotta try it hey
I got a room
I got a room full of hoes at the Hyatt
I got a hell of a drunk I can’t hide it
Do something new you just might like it
I got a kite I might fly it
Let’s have a party
Starter variety
I got a blue I ignite it
This is the feeling can’t fight it
Bottles on the table
Mama’s on the way
Do this every day
Life isn’t it great
Let’s have my type of party

[Hook]
Let’s have a mighty party (Let’s have a mighty party)
Let’s have a lean party (Let’s have a lean party)
Let’s have a loud party (Let’s have a loud party)
Let’s have a big party (Let’s have a big party)
This is my type of party (This is my type of party)
This is my type of party (This is my type of party)
This is my type of party (This is my type of party)
This is my type of party (hey)
Let’s have a mighty party (Let’s have a mighty party)
Let’s have a lean party (Let’s have a lean party)
Let’s have a loud party (Let’s have a loud party)
Let’s have a big party (Let’s have a big party)
This is my type of party (This is my type of party)
This is my type of party (This is my type of party)
This is my type of party (This is my type of party)
This is my type of party

[Verse 2]
We gonna throw a party
We be stretching hard
We be flexing on you
We be shitting on you
We be messing on you
Smith & Wesson on you
Brothers like we Jonas
Bitch on my cajones
Jimmy like Coronas
I give a organ like donors
N*gga the party ain’t over
I’m fitting a wake up like Folgers
I got some paper no folders
I got some lean in my cup though
I gotta bend with the f**k though
Look at them look like a duck though
I might f**k me a slut though
Two bitches that’s a f**k party
Two bitches that’s a f**k party
I don’t remember nothing what party
I don’t remember pulling up party
I don’t remember nothing else
Probably was feeling myself
Probably was feeling your bitch
She probably was feeling the coup
Let’s have a party in this

[Hook]
Let’s have a mighty party (Let’s have a mighty party)
Let’s have a lean party (Let’s have a lean party)
Let’s have a loud party (Let’s have a loud party)
Let’s have a big party (Let’s have a big party)
This is my type of party (This is my type of party)
This is my type of party (This is my type of party)
This is my type of party (This is my type of party)
This is my type of party (hey)
Let’s have a mighty party (Let’s have a mighty party)
Let’s have a lean party (Let’s have a lean party)
Let’s have a loud party (Let’s have a loud party)
Let’s have a big party (hey)
This is my type of party (This is my type of party)
This is my type of party (This is my type of party)
This is my type of party (This is my type of party)
This is my type of party

YNW Melly – YNS Lyrics

Play this song

[Intro]
Oh, I gotta keep fuckin’ goin’
Yeah
Young Nigga World
And that’s for life
All my niggas dons, ya dig
Goats, them some dons
Know what I’m sayin’
Woo

[Verse]
Bitch, bitch, bitch, bitch, (Yeah) Young Nigga World, bitch (Yeah)
Yeah, Young Nigga World, bitch
Young Nigga World, G (Okay, bitch)
Young Nigga World, jit (Okay, bitch)
Bitch, bitch, okay, haha
Young Nigga World shit
Young Nigga World shit
Young Nigga World shit
Hol’ up, young nigga shit
This that young nigga shit (Shit)
Been thuggin’ since a jit
Every Glock got a dick (A dick)
A laser on my chopper, tell me how could I miss
Bag a Smith & Wesson, we got Glock 26 (Okay)
Young nigga shit, this that young nigga shit (That shit)
They’ll tape his momma up and throw his ass in a ditch (Lil bitch)
I heard you bout that action but lowkey you a bitch
I seen the paperwork, lil boy, I know you a snitch
Oh, god damn, uh [?], you say you broke as fuck and that you down on your dick (Get off your ass)
Well, get off off your ass and go and hit you a lick
Go and get them credit cards and [?]
Wait, go and get them credit cards and bring ’em to me
You wanna make 1200 dollars, come and fuck with me
I got a whole lotta real niggas who love me
I got a whole lotta killers who fuck with me
And they still fuck with me even though we
From two different fuckin’ parts of the atmosphere
I got diamonds and they shinin’ like [?] (Like [?])
Catch you nigga haters, how we do your [?] (Do your [?])
And you know a nigga got a couple bands in here (Got ’em bands)
I’m in the booth right now, I got a couple bands in here
She wanna fuck, she wanna sell, but I ain’t no baby
Hell nah, don’t you see me with my old lady
Hell nah, we got [?] like Old Navy
Boy, that ain’t not damn Versace, that’s Old Navy
I don’t care, if it’s fire, I wear it, fuck who made it (Fuck you x2)
Why the fuck, ooh ohh, Capri Sun (Capri Sun)
Ridin’ with that Glock, he [?]
Ooh, god damn, oh, they trapped us
The feds on the phone, I think they trapped us (The trapped us)
Free John [?], I think they trapped him
If he got a problem, don’t you ask him (Don’t you ask)
Shawty on my dick, she gettin’ nasty (She nasty)
Baby, send that address, oh [?]
Boy gon’ send that address on weekend
W, I swear we don’t take no losses (No losses)
I got VVS on me and they so frosty (So frosty)
And your bitch suck the dick with the lip gloss (Lip gloss)
And it’s poppin’ like lil mama, take that bitch to the Bahamas
Okay, bitch, you bout that drama
We got pistols for days
He say pressure, okay
Hol’ up, ooh, chips lays
Ooh, chips lays
When he die I smile
When he died I smiled (Happy)
When he died I smiled (Okay)
When he died I smiled (Smiled)
Hope that boy beat trial (Smile)
He gon’ [?] the [?]
They tryna take his child (His child)
Tryna take your child, ayy
Take that shit to trial, ayy
Put that child support, uh, on that bitch
Cause if you don’t she gon’ do it to you (Do it to you)
She gon’ do it to you (You)
I’m blood gangster, woop (Suwoop)
Man keep it going, do it
[?] fuck you do

[Outro]
1090 shit, oo oo
Young Nigga World

Kekra – Poches Pleines Lyrics

[Intro]
Vréel

[Refrain]
Tous les matins pour ma paye, j’me vè-le
Tous les matins pour ma paye, j’me vè-le
Tous les matins pour ma paye, j’me vè-le
Tous les matins pour ma paye, j’me vè-le

[Couplet 1]
Règle numéro 1 : l’matin je sors les poches vides
Règle numéro 2 : faut qu’j’rentre chez oim les poches big
Cœur de lion, j’ai l’œil du tigre
Sorti comme la drogue dans ma ville
Smith & Wesson comme Will, obligatoire dans le milieu
Nique les mecs comme Mill, j’te vi-ser comme j’deal
Hauts-de-Seine hostile, j’connais personne dans ce milieu
J’connais personne dans ce milieu
Motivé par la gratte depuis tipeu
J’faisais des passes, j’prenais mille €
Paire de Prada, joint de weed
La misère me boost comme Adidas
Lunettes, masque antivirus
Et l’rap bande comme Adidas
J’suis trop loin pour ces minus
La misère me boost comme Adidas
Lunettes, masque antivirus
Et l’rap bande comme Adidas
J’suis trop loin pour les minus

[Refrain]
Tous les matins pour ma paye, j’me vè-le
Tous les matins pour ma paye, j’me vè-le
Tous les matins pour ma paye, j’me vè-le
Tous les matins pour ma paye, j’me vè-le

[Couplet 2]
Quoiqu’il arrive, gros c’est pas ta ive
Que l’on fasse ou fasse pas la diff’
Tu caches trop ton seum, ça t’rend maladif
La ce-for se trouve dans l’regard d’la mif’
Heureusement pour eux j’la canalise
J’débarque, de la me-ca dans la valise
Mais c’est mes pes-sa qu’eux ils analysent
Haja normal, gros c’est ça ma ive
J’hagar le peura sous cannabis
La concurrence m’appelle l’euthanasiste
Masqué, ganté, j’laisse aucun indice
Masqué, ganté, j’laisse aucun indice
Que voulez-vous que je vous dise ?
La devise c’est faut d’la devise
Tu chantes au poste comme un choriste
Le rap j’le f**k comme la police
Devant la violence, ils vomissent
Les couilles ne manquent pas de tonus
Y’a qu’dans le malus qu’on est bonus
Y’a qu’devant mon phallus que t’es focus
Devant la violence, ils vomissent
Les couilles ne manquent pas de tonus
Y’a qu’dans le malus qu’on est bonus
Et devant mon phallus que t’es focus

[Refrain]
Tous les matins pour ma paye, j’me vè-le
Tous les matins pour ma paye, j’me vè-le
Tous les matins pour ma paye, j’me vè-le
Tous les matins pour ma paye, j’me vè-le

[Outro]
Bande de petites khoubzas
J’suis là pour les sous, pour les sous
Vréel

Go Yayo – What If Lyrics

[Intro]
Ayy, gang gang gang, bitch
Yayo, Go, woah
No more free yayo, it cost bitch

[Chorus]
I ran it up, got so much money
f**k it, I’m givin’ out free dope
I play with paper like King Kong
Diamonds water water like a nigga left the sink on
What if I go broke today?
Would you still be around, lil nigga don’t think so
Gettin’ good top from a freak ho
She like yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
What if I didn’t have these diamonds, would you still be riding?
What if that new shop wasn’t what I was driving?
Would you stay with me if I wasn’t poppin’
You wanted a purse and I couldn’t even cop it
What if I ain’t have my chopper?
Would I have to warn my partner if I saw these bands?
Yeah I know that that’s your man
That don’t mean that he won’t get on the stand

[Verse 1]
I’m sick and tired of everybody sayin’ that they riding
Beef come, they be hiding
Nigga smoked your partner now you on the internet crying
Nigga why ain’t nobody dying?
Get rid of that work like a diet, ayy
Niggas dissin’ but in person they quiet
HoodFame gang start a riot nigga
Yeah yeah yeah yeah
Eighteen years old, took the murder charge
Seventeen years old, me and Sleek, we was stealing cars
Sixteen I was selling bars
Fifteen when they took my nigga Zach and it hurt my heart
Middle school, man I had it hard
At school with that tool, big gun, a Smith & Wesson
f**kin’ this kid, I was only eleven
On the block with my daddy, I was seven
I’m good in the six ’cause I’m locked
Shout out to Shoo that my fire
I’m on that perc, don’t get tired
We got good dope, this that fire
OG bowls two for five
Niggas gon’ score, young OG from the four
I f**k up the tre and the deuce, but iron the one
Bitch ass nigga
Yeah yeah yeah yeah

[Chorus]
I ran it up, got so much money
f**k it, I’m givin’ out free dope
I play with paper like King Kong
Diamonds water water like a nigga left the sink on
What if I go broke today?
Would you still be around, lil nigga don’t think so
Gettin’ good top from a freak ho
She like yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
What if I didn’t have these diamonds, would you still be riding?
What if that new shop wasn’t what I was driving?
Would you stay with me if I wasn’t poppin’
You wanted a purse and I couldn’t even cop it
What if I ain’t have my chopper?
Would I have to warn my partner if I saw these bands?
Yeah I know that that’s your man
That don’t mean that he won’t get on the stand

[Verse 2]
I love that you think that’s your partner
But you gotta watch when these niggas turn snake over bullshit
Got in a shootout the other day, that nigga still had a full clip
These niggas ain’t with that shit
What you gon’ do if the lick turn into a hit
That nigga gon’ rat, he gon’ snitch
Gotta watch your back when you taking risks
Skrt skrt skrt, jump in that mirror and coast
I’m ballin’, I don’t need no coach
Get on that red, do the most
You kissin’ that bitch, I want throat
Ayy, ayy, Maison Margiela my toes
These niggas they just want my glow
Yeah yeah yeah yeah
These rappers act tough but he really a cop
Thirteen years old on the block with that mop
He play with the gang now it’s off with his top
Hundred round drum, bullets comin’, won’t stop
I just got a trap on the other side
Ridin’ your block, all of your bodies get show stopped
HoodFame gang, we get it hot nigga
Yeah yeah yeah yeah

[Chorus]
I ran it up, got so much money
f**k it, I’m givin’ out free dope
I play with paper like King Kong
Diamonds water water like a nigga left the sink on
What if I go broke today?
Would you still be around, lil nigga don’t think so
Gettin’ good top from a freak ho
She like yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
What if I didn’t have these diamonds, would you still be riding?
What if that new shop wasn’t what I was driving?
Would you stay with me if I wasn’t poppin’
You wanted a purse and I couldn’t even cop it
What if I ain’t have my chopper?
Would I have to warn my partner if I saw these bands?
Yeah I know that that’s your man
That don’t mean that he won’t get on the stand

Boldy James – Method To My Madness Lyrics

[Intro]
What else can I do?
[?]
You know where we at with it
Bold J, let’s get it

[Verse 1]
I was down and out ducking [?]
On some sauerkraut [?]
Build a power house, caught me up to speed
When I counted out my first hundred G’s
[?] we can funnel keys
[?] me and Uncle [?]
Pounding loud like who cut the cheese
Still counting down til my brothers free
Niggas rocking chains with them bubble letters
I be copping cane tryna pluck a feather
Hop a train, catch the bus wherever
Dodging rain with no umbrella
Hydroplaning through the flood zone
[?] baking in the drug zone
Take the Pyrex, shake it with no gloves on
Watch I can make it do the love jones
16 I done been [?]
Living rent free like a [?]
Apartment 6C me and rex
Made a 15 do the Vince Carter
Taking trips with my brother Blue
[?] spliffs in the cut with [?]
Made a brick jump from one to two
Couldn’t make this shit up if I wanted to
Cheated death, could’ve suffocated
Been arrested, beat a couple cases
East West, RIP Slick
Real BMF know we drug related
Five bodies made ’em pay for three
Left one with [?] now we updates
Riding dirty tinted [?] on me
In the HOV got me frustrated
Where we at with it?

[Chorus]
Whip it in the rex out the plastic
Hit the stretcher like elastic
Put it in the press then I smash it
Weigh it up wet then I bag it
Get them [?] casket
Did the high step when I got drafted
Caught an interception on the package
But it’s a method to my madness
Whip it in the rex out the plastic
Hit the stretcher like elastic
Put it in the press then I smash it
Weigh it up wet then I bag it
Get them [?] casket
Did the high step when I got drafted
Caught an interception on the package
But it’s a method to my madness

[Verse 2]
Niggas disrespect, we let ’em have it
We empty them clips in the ‘matic
[?]
We have come for them bricks in the attic
Kept in touch with my bitch in [?]
Run it up on [?]
Spot build like a [?]
Bad enough we got rich nigga status
[?] talons
[?] full of felons
[?] up for that shit that you selling
Niggas buckling snitching and telling
We be smuggle, shipping, and mailing
In the cut with a Smith & Wesson
Shedding blood for my niggas in heaven
Selling drugs from the 6th to the 7th
In the club with a six shot .38
Level up to a .357
[?] grew up on the sixth
Fell in love with a bitch [?]
Send him up when I [?]
[?] went off on my shit I’ma stretch him
Dump him off in a ditch when I catch him
Kill his son and I send him my blessing
My bitch asking me 21 questions
And get mad when I change up the subject
Type of [?] front end
Put a half key of cane in my budget
Used to trap like I played for the Nuggets
[?]
[?] pack, if they right I’ma flush it
‘Cause [?] possession

[Chorus]
Whip it in the [?] out the plastic
Hit the stretcher like elastic
Put it in the press then I smash it
Weigh it up wet then I bag it
Get them [?] casket
Did the high step when I got drafted
Caught an interception on the package
But it’s a method to my madness
Whip it in the [?] out the plastic
Hit the stretcher like elastic
Put it in the press then I smash it
Weigh it up wet then I bag it
Get them [?] casket
Did the high step when I got drafted
Caught an interception on the package
But it’s a method to my madness

Chief Keef – Sneeze Lyrics

[Intro]
Zaytoven
Yah, yah, yah, yah (Yeah)
Yuh, yuh, yuh, yuh (Yeah)
Yah, yah (Yeah)
Sosa, baby (Sosa)
GBE, baby (Bang, Bang)

[Chorus]
Chocolate chopper for him, he think it’s vanilla
30 shot, four five, in my Louis sweater
Cooler than a fan, this bitch think that I’m sweat her
“Chief Sosa, I look up to you,” pussy boy, you better
If you ain’t smokin’ OG, I don’t want your weed
Like a thotty on her period, I make a nigga bleed
Do this shit for Cap’ and Blood, throwin’ C’s, throwin’ B’s
Have this Glock up and bless you, like he care about your sneeze

[Verse 1]
Lift this chopper like some weights, I ain’t bench pressin’
Got FNH up in the club and I got Smith & Wesson
But I don’t really like Smith & Wesson, got Glock, boy
If he decide to knock you down, you’s a opp, boy
Pulled up in that ugly thing, it got teeth on it
They like “What the fuck’s a feature, ain’t got Keef on it”
This bitch wanna roll some weed and put some keef on it
At the top hangin’ off the clouds, yeah my sleeves on it
If you lookin’ for me, I’m prolly in New Orleans
With them 504 boys, no Levis jeans
Come through with 450s, nigga flee the scene
Bitch a 223 chopper, that’s what Keef’ll bring

[Chorus]
Chocolate chopper for him, he think it’s vanilla
30 shot, four five, in my Louis sweater
Cooler than a fan, this bitch think that I’m sweat her
“Chief Sosa, I look up to you,” pussy boy, you better
If you ain’t smokin’ OG, I don’t want your weed
Like a thotty on her period, I make a nigga bleed
Do this shit for Cap’ and Blood, throwin’ C’s, throwin’ B’s
Have this Glock up and bless you, like he care about your sneeze

[Verse 2]
Up this Glock and sneeze, catch you, ha-choo
Come through and knock down your partner, I mean to pop you
Like we was shootin’ some craps, I mean to spot you
You’s a goofy to the audience, no need to clap you
I got plenty B-roll, like a camera man
Diddy Boppin’ in the party, that’s Keef Hammer Dance
You can put me at the back and I’m still gon’ win
Stompin’ on the heads of my mufuckin’ mini-man
Brown brick mansion, lookin’ like some wheats, nigga
Six car garage, well I got three in them
Gotta go super far for the other three
Pull off and my shit soundin’ ugly

[Chorus]
Chocolate chopper for him, he think it’s vanilla
30 shot, four five, in my Louis sweater
Cooler than a fan, this bitch think that I’m sweat her
“Chief Sosa, I look up to you,” pussy boy, you better
If you ain’t smokin’ OG, I don’t want your weed
Like a thotty on her period, I make a nigga bleed
Do this shit for Cap’ and Blood, throwin’ C’s, throwin’ B’s
Have this Glock up and bless you, like he care about your sneeze

[Outro]
Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy
Bang bang, bang bang

Lil Durk – 100 Grand Lyrics

[Intro: Lil Durk]
In this motherfucker smellin’ like a hundred racks
Smellin’ good with this Bond No. 9 (Hitmaka)
Hundred racks, hundred racks, hundred racks, oh my God
Mari beats, turn me up, up

[Verse 1: Ty Dolla $ign & Lil Durk]
It’s all these diamonds on her ’cause she mine (She mine)
Yeah I do this shit for fun (For fun)
Champagne showers ’til she cum (‘Til she cum)
I just popped a perc for everyone (Everyone)
Wraith, watch, PCA drop (Turn up)
Time machine the road, suicide the top (Top)
Down town parking lot, penthouse shot (Turn up)
You just wifed a thot, she up but she not (Yeah yeah)

[Chorus: Ty Dolla $ign & Lil Durk]
I just spent a hundred grand on my jewelry (On my jewelry)
I just spent a hundred grand on my jewelry (On my jewelry)
You say, you say that’s your mans, are you sure-y? (Are you sure-y?)
He done told on the whole squad, no sorry (Turn up, come on)

[Verse 2: Lil Durk]
I just blew a big bag today on my diamonds (Turn up, come on)
Everything too real, be honest
Uh, uh, we be pushing the Porsche in the trenches (Skrrt)
Came a long way hopping fences
Cash, credit, shawty fix her titties
But these niggas don’t get it, ooh
I just bet 100K on Floyd, oh (Cash)
I ain’t going if I ain’t on that floor, oh
100K bust out the plastic (Turn up)
100K flood out the Patek
West coast we hot in (JoJo)
Fuck around, hide in the attic (Go, go)
Uh uh, tell that DJ play this shit right back, uh-huh (Turn up)
Young fly nigga, pick up where he slack (Where he slack, ayy)
Too hot up in this club, get off my back (Get off my back, ayy)
Don’t wanna hit your cup if it’s not Act, Act

[Chorus: Ty Dolla $ign]
I just spent a hundred grand on my jewelry (jewelry)
I just spent a hundred grand on my jewelry (jewelry)
You say, you say that’s your mans, are you sure-y? (sure-y)
He done told on the whole squad, no sorry

[Verse 3: A Boogie Wit Da Hoodie]
Yeah, look at my wrist, that’s a Patek, yeah
Look at my neck, that’s another Patek, yeah
Givenchy sweats with a Moncler vest, yeah
Fuck my ex, fuck all my exes, yeah
She cut me off, so I fuck her best friend, yeah
She hit me up and I seen a message, yeah
Smith & Wesson, fuck a Tekken, yeah
Hit his head then that’s a dead man, yeah
Hit his head now he a dead man, ooh
Hit his head now learn a lesson, ooh
I’m so blessed now, I’m a blessing, ooh
You a dub now, I’m finessing you

[Chorus: Ty Dolla $ign]
I just spent a hundred grand on my jewelry (jewelry)
I just spent a hundred grand on my jewelry (jewelry)
You say, you say that’s your mans, are you sure-y? (sure-y)
He done told on the whole squad, no sorry

[Outro: Ty Dolla $ign]
It’s all these diamonds on her ’cause she mine (Wow)
Yeah I do this shit for fun (Fun)
Champagne showers ’til she cum (‘Til she cum)
I just popped a perc for everyone (Everyone)

Eazy-E – Real Compton City G’s Lyrics

[Intro]
Compton, Compton, Compton
Ahh, real Compton city G’s
Ahh, real Compton city G’s
Ahh, real Compton city G’s
Ahh, real Compton city G’s

[Verse 1: Eazy-E]
Hey yo, Doctor, here’s another proper track
And it’s phat, watch the sniper, time to pay the piper
And let that real stuff provoke
See, you’s a wannabe ‘loc, and you’ll get smoked, and I hope
That the fans understand when you talk about sprayin’ me
The same records that you makin’ is payin’ me
M–f– Dre! M–f– Snoop! M–f– Death Row!
Yo, and here comes my left blow
‘Cause I’m the E-A-Z-Y-E and this is the season
To let the real Compton city G’s in
You’re like a kid, you found a pup, and now you’re dapper
But tell me, where the hell you found that anorexic rapper?
Talkin’ about who you gon’ squabble with and who you shoot
You’re only sixty pounds when you’re wet and wearin’ boots
(Damn, E, they tried to fade you on Dre Day)
But Dre Day only meant Eazy’s payday
All of a sudden Dr. Dre is the G Thang
But on his old album cover he was a she-thang
So, sucka please, suck please
Don’t step to these real Compton city G’s

[Hook]
Stop him in his tracks, show him that I am Ruthless
Yo, Dre! (What’s up?)
Boy, you should’ve known by now

[Verse 2: Dresta]
Every day it’s a new rapper claimin’ to be dapper than the Dresta
Softer than a girl but portray the role of gangsta
Ain’t broke a law in your life
Yet every time you rap you yap about the guns and knife
Just take a good look at the brother and you’ll capture
The fact that the bastard is simply just an actor
Who mastered the bang and the slang and the mental
Of homies in Compton, Watts, and South Central
Never ever once have you ran with the turf
But yet in every verse claim you used to do the dirt
But tell me, who’s a witness to your damn work?
So you never had no bid’ness, so save the drama, jerk!
Brothers straight kill me, knowin’ that they pranksters
This is goin’ out to you studio gangstas
See, I did dirt, put in work, and many brotherss can vouch that
And since I got stripes, I got the right to rap about that
But brother like you, I gotta hate ya
‘Cause I’m just tired of suburbia brothers
Talkin’ about they come from projects
Knowin’ you ain’t seen no parts of the streets, G
I think you started tryna bang around the time of the peace treaty
Wearin’ khakis and mob while you rhyme
Little — tried to sag, but you’re floodin’ at the same time
And your set don’t accept ya; scared to kick it with your homies
‘Cause you know they don’t respect ya
So, brother please, brother please
Don’t step to these real Compton city G’s

[Verse 3: B.G. Knocc Out]
Well, it’s the Knocc Out, definition “Original baby gangsta”
Approach me like you hard, little busta, I’ma bank ya
Shank ya, with my damn shank, if I have to
Dr. Dre and Snoop Doggy Dogg are really actors
Pranksters, studio gangstas, busters
But this time you’re dealin’ with some real ass brothers
G’s, fools please, don’t try to step
See if you do, then a pealed cap is all that would be left
See, young brotherss like me will break you off somethin’
Claimin’ my city — but Dre, you ain’t from Compton
Suckers like y’all is what I call wannabes
And ain’t shit compared to real Compton city’ G’s

[Hook]
Stop him in his tracks, show him that I am Ruthless
Yo, Dre! (What’s up?)
Boy, you should’ve known by now

[Verse 4: Eazy-E]
I never met a O.G. who never did nothing wrong
You tried to diss the Eazy-E, so now, sucka, it’s on
You and your Doggy Dogg think that y’all hoggin’ it
Both of you bitches can come and suck my doggy’s —
Beatin’ up a bitch don’t make you it, but then again
Some niggas think it makes a man
Damn, it’s a trip how Dre could switch so quick
From wearin’ lipstick to smokin’ on — at picnics
And now you think you’re bigger
But to me you ain’t nothin’ but a track-ass busta
That ain’t worth a food stamp
And at Death Row, I hear you gettin’ treated like boot camp
Gotta follow your sergeant’s directions
Or get your ass popped with the Smith & Wesson
Learn a lesson from the Eaze
Stay in your place and don’t step to real Compton city G’s

[Hook]
Stop him in his tracks, show him that I am Ruthless
Yo, Dre! (What’s up?)
Boy, you should’ve known by now
Stop him in his tracks, show him that I am Ruthless
Yo, Dre! (What’s up?)
Boy, you should’ve known by now
Stop him in his tracks, show him that I am Ruthless
Yo, Dre! (What’s up?)
Boy, you should’ve known by now: Eazy Duz It

Xxxtentacion – Moonlight lyrics

[Intro]
Yeah

[Chorus]
Spotlight, uh, moonlight, uh
Nigga, why you trippin’? Get your mood right, uh
Shawty look good in the moonlight
All these pussy niggas so bad mind
Spotlight, moonlight
Nigga, why you trippin’? Get your mood right
Shawty look good in the moonlight
All these pussy niggas so bad mind
Spotlight, uh, moonlight
Nigga, why you trippin’? Get your mood right, uh
Shawty look good in the moonlight
All these pussy niggas so bad mind
Spotlight, moonlight
Nigga, why you trippin’? Get your mood right
Shawty look good in the moonlight
All these pussy niggas so bad mind

[Verse]
Feel like I’m destined
I don’t need no Smith & Wesson, no
Boy, who you testin’?
Fuck a Scantron, here’s your lesson, oh
Knife in intestine
Takin’ shots at all your brethren, no
Feel like I’m damaged
Girl I know you fucking planned this

[Bridge]
All alone, call my phone, make me feel right
Girl you know when you call, make me feel right
All alone, call my phone, make me feel right
Girl you know when you call, make me feel right

[Chorus]
Spotlight, uh, moonlight, uh
Nigga, why you trippin’? Get your mood right, uh
Shawty look good in the moonlight
All these pussy niggas so bad mind
Spotlight, moonlight
Nigga, why you trippin’? Get your mood right
Shawty look good in the moonlight
All these pussy niggas so bad mind
Spotlight, uh, moonlight
Nigga, why you trippin’? Get your mood right, uh
Shawty look good in the moonlight
All these pussy niggas so bad mind
Spotlight, moonlight
Nigga, why you trippin’? Get your mood right
Shawty look good in the moonlight
All these pussy niggas so bad mind

smokepurpp – Gucci Breakfast (feat. Lil Pump)

[Intro: SmokePurpp]
Lil Purpp, Lil Purpp
Bitch
Four in the fuckin’ mornin’
Shout out these young hoes be hatin’ shit, ya dig?
Yuh, bitch
I’m fuckin’ tired! Want fuckin’ breakfast, ayy!

[Chorus: SmokePurpp]
I drink lean for breakfast (bitch!)
Suck my dick for breakfast
Smoke a blunt for breakfast (what?)
Fuck your bitch then exit, ayy, yeah

[Verse 1: SmokePurpp]
Percocet, uh
I come to collect
For my set
I can get you wet, uh
I fucked that
I’m depressed, I stay in bed (what?)
Fuck your daughter (what?)
Fuck her ’til her pussy wet
I don’t need no glove
I need a vision, blunt
Bitch I’m from Dade County (what?)
Haitian, speak in tongue (okay)
Leave a nigga bloody like I poked him in the artery
I don’t do no party
I fuck hoes, do Molly
I just need somebody
To fuck hoes, do Molly with
I don’t do no party
Poke him in the artery
Ayy, what I say? Ayy
Bars, Xan, breakfast

[Chorus: SmokePurpp]
I drink lean for breakfast (bitch!)
Suck my dick for breakfast (what?)
Smoke a blunt for breakfast
Fuck your bitch then exit, ayy, yeah
I drink lean for breakfast (bitch!)
Suck my dick for breakfast (what?)
Smoke a blunt for breakfast
Fuck your bitch then exit, ayy, yeah

[Verse 2: Lil Pump]
Pop a Xan for breakfast, ooh
Fucked that bitch then left her, yeah
Left her in a stretcher, ooh
Lil Pump the flexer, yeah
Pull up and I’m flexin’
Go to class with Smith & Wesson
Teacher told me I’m a blessin’
Always askin’ why I’m finessin’, uh
I’m a fuckin’ rockstar
I pop Xans and crash cars
Everything is Goyard
All I do is swipe card
I think I just touched the moon
I just gave your mama shrooms
I think I just touched the moon
I just gave your mama shrooms

[Chorus: SmokePurpp]
I drink lean for breakfast (bitch!)
Suck my dick for breakfast (what?)
Smoke a blunt for breakfast
Fuck your bitch then exit, ayy, yeah
I drink lean for breakfast (bitch!)
Suck my dick for breakfast (what?)
Smoke a blunt for breakfast
Fuck your bitch then exit, ayy, yeah

Lil Durk – Hard Shit Lyrics

[Intro: Kid Wonder & Lil Reese]
KidWonder did you make this beat?
It’s your boy Lil Reesey checkin’ in
You rockin’ with my nigga DJ Bandz
300 to nuttin’
HoodRich bitch!

[Hook: Lil Durk]
Check a bag and put the block on
Yo’ diamonds fake, them bitches costone
Every Glock bitch we cock drum
My killas wild and they off drugs
These niggas pussy, they don’t want it
These niggas bitches, they don’t want it
These niggas snitches, they don’t want it
My niggas killas, they don’t want it

[Verse 1: Lil Durk]
Bro call we takin’ doors off
Pour a pint and I might doze off
‘Fore I knew her name, she took her clothes off
Free my boy De-De he like old dog
Name ringin’ bells my whole family starvin’
Most niggas doin’ drills out the family car
We ain’t got no chill, we ain’t got no chill
Labels gave me Mills I told my killas kill
Niggas say they real but they ain’t really real
Can’t trust ’em like we dead and niggas killin’ kids
Smith & Wesson nina, takin’ out his dreads
I’m off the drugs, I’m off the percs and they both messy

[Hook: Lil Durk]
Check a bag and put the block on
Yo’ diamonds fake, them bitches costone
Every Glock bitch we cock drum
My killas wild and they off drugs
These niggas pussy, they don’t want it
These niggas bitches, they don’t want it
These niggas snitches, they don’t want it
My niggas killas, they don’t want it

[Verse 2: Lil Reese]
These niggas bitches they don’t want it
A lotta killas put ’em on ya
My niggas with it you don’t want it
We point the fingers then they on it
Fuck all that talkin’ it ain’t nothin’
Pull up with choppas get to bustin’
A lot of niggas get to runnin’
Watch all yo’ niggas get to runnin’
Fuck all that talkin’, let’s get the money
Lil Durk he with me yeah that’s my brother
We ain’t havin’ that money come between us
Back then used to ride around the (?)

[Hook: Lil Durk]
Check a bag and put the block on
Yo’ diamonds fake, them bitches costone
Every Glock bitch we cock drum
My killas wild and they off drugs
These niggas pussy, they don’t want it
These niggas bitches, they don’t want it
These niggas snitches, they don’t want it
My niggas killas, they don’t want it

[Outro: Lil Durk]
These niggas pussy, they don’t want it
These niggas bitches, they don’t want it
These niggas snitches, they don’t want it
My niggas killas, they don’t want it
Check a bag and put the block on
Yo’ diamonds fake, them bitches costone
Every Glock bitch we cock drum
My killas wild and they off drugs

Chris Brown – Yellow Tape

[Verse 1]
Wait a sec, wait a minute
Don’t compare me to them other niggas
Never fear, Smith & Wesson
I’m about to go to war, gon’ pleasure bitches
Where the real friends at when you really need ’em?
When I was locked up in the county, I ain’t even see ’em
I got my own lane, lonely
What happen to the bitches in the party?
A 100 bottles that was every weekend
Bitches bodied in my crib like the Colosseum
After 3 AM, you know we getting freaky
Hella one night stands, we just catching feelings
Tired of the fake loving
Fake Hollywood, fake passion
Fake gang banging and they claiming on pop shit
Fake titties and cocaine in they nostrils, I be cryin’

[Verse 2]
Too with it, nigga, bring a bottle
And if it’s my time to go, I’m taking everybody
Don’t care, my nigga, we shootin’ anybody
And if it ain’t your girl, then nigga, don’t worry about it
I hear ’em talking down on me, down on me
But where they at when I ain’t got a 100 rounds on me?
I think I had it up to here, my niggas
You know your killers, they fear my niggas
So what you tryna tryna do, tryna tryna do?
Dancing round the issue, bitch you know you’re running out of moves
I keep it real my nigga
This Richard Mille hella clear, cost a mil my nigga
Yeah, give a fuck about how you feel, my nigga
Got the mic at the horror room and we feel like thriller
Passive aggressive bitches always acting all timid
But hope you make no money, but I rather help you spend it
Had a meeting with the devil last week
Couldn’t believe what he said to me
To take this contract, signature please
You can have it all, but you know your soul, I’ma keep that
Bad luck, bad luck, yeah you know it come in threes
Bet I never did this, I’m the only one who sees
I’ve got the fire blazing, burning all the weed
I think this hell ain’t hotter than this fucking Hennessy, yeah

[Verse 3]
Two feet off the ground, oh oh, like
Why am I living here?
Up and down, up and down
I think I might drown from my tears
I cry
Just might being sold
Too many tears, I’m thinking ’bout ending here
Wanna prepare brought your roulette with the pistol

[Hook]
Bang, bang, bang, hear the sirens say
Wahyo, wahyo, wahyo, get behind the yellow tape
Bang, bang, bang, hear the sirens say
Wahyo, wahyo, wahyo, get behind the yellow tape
Bang, bang, bang, hear the sirens say
Don’t shoot, don’t shoot, get behind the yellow tape
Don’t shoot, don’t shoot, don’t shoot, don’t shoot, get behind the yellow tape

[Verse 4]
Wonder if God got a sense of humor
I hope you know that he can see all the shit you doing
My mama said no matter how that he still listen to me
Taking temptation and fornication, you know I love the pussy
Mister assume there no connection, it was all assumptions
She just wanna fuck
Whatever happened to us love making?
You don’t wanna be in the club

CHRIS BROWN – Yellow Tape lyrics

Chris Brown:
What you say? Wait a minute
Dont compare me to them other niggas
Devil hater, Smith & Wesson
I’m about to go to war, gon’ pleasure bitches
Where the real friends at when you really need ’em
When I was locked up in the county I ain’t even see ’em
I got my own lane, lonely
What happen to the bitches in the party
A 100 bottles that was every week-end
Bitches by to view my crib, I don’t call to see em
At the 3am you know we getting freaky
Hella one night stands, we just catching feelings

Too all the fake lovin
Fake hollywood, fake passion
Fake gang bang, when they climb on the pole and shit
Fake titties and cocaine and all this pussy
I be cryin’

Too up in it, need to bring a bottle
And if it’s my time to go I’m takin’ everybody
Don’t care my nigga we shootin’ anybody
And if it ain’t your girl nigga don’t worry about it
I hear em talking down on me, down on me
But where they at when I ain’t got a 100 rounds on me
I think I had enough to hear about ’em niggas
You know your killers they feel my niggas
So what you tryna tryna do, tryna tryna do
Dancing around the issue
Bitch you know you’re running out of moves
I keep it real my nigga
This Richard mille hella clear cost a mil my nigga
Yeah, give a fuck about how you feel my nigga
Back the mic got the [?] we can feel like thriller
Passive aggressive bitches always acting all timid
But hope you make no money, but I rather help you spend it

Had a meeting with the devil last week
Couldn’t believe what he said to me
To take this contract, signature please
You can have it all, but you know your soul is the key
Bella, bella yeah you know we come in threes
Bet I never did this, I’m the only one who sees
I’ve got the fire blazing’, burning all the weed
I think the hell ain’t hotter than this fucking Hennessy

2 feet off the ground, oh oh, like
Why am I living ill ?
Up and down, up and down
I think I might drown on my tear, I cry
Just molly and soda
Too many tears, I’m thinking about ending here
Wanna prepare brought your roulette with the pistol

Bang, Bang, Bang
Hear the siren say
Wahyo, wahyo, wahyo
Get behind the yellow tape
Bang, Bang, Bang
Hear the siren say
Wahyo, wahyo, wahyo
Get behind the yellow tape
Bang, Bang, Bang
Hear the siren say
Don’t shoot, don’t shoot
Get behind the yellow tape
Don’t shoot, don’t shoot, don’t shoot
Get behind the yellow tape

Wonder if god got a sense of humour
I hope you know, he can see all the shit you doin’
My mama said no matter how old he still listen to me
Taking temptation with fornication
You know I love the pussy
Mister assume theres no connection, it was all assumptions
She just wanna fuck
Whatever happened to us love making
You don’t wanna be in the club