Bad Sounds – Wages Lyrics

[Verse 1]
I’m only looking
I have my heart set on our home
Like saving Steven, and anxious Ann
Sounds like a scam
Gonna get ripped off
Gonna do it again

[Chorus]
Wrong guy paying my wages
My patience is paper thin
Wrong guy paying my wages
My patience is paper thin

[Verse 2]
Now, I ain’t sulking
I’m just too sober to dance
Ain’t John Travolta, and you ain’t Sandy
A story you know, honey, I made it up
Going through it again

[Chorus]
Wrong guy paying my wages
My patience is paper thin
Wrong guy paying my wages
My patience is paper thin

[Bridge]
I’ve got that cold, cold coffee, yeah I’m under cover with it
I got that cold, cold coffee, yeah I’m under cover ’cause I don’t wanna be like them
(I wanna be like them)
I got that cold, cold coffee, yeah I’m under cover ’cause I don’t, wanna be like them
(I wanna be like them)
I got this cold, cold coffee, yeah I’m under cover and I don’t, wanna be like them
(I wanna be like them)
Your mum’s got cold, cold coffee ’cause she’s under cover and she don’t wanna be like them

[Chorus]
Wrong guy paying my wages
My patience is paper thin
Wrong guy paying my wages
My patience is paper thin

Bigmoneybrezzy – Flexin Lyrics

Intro
BigMoneyBrezzy
Hoodswagg Mafia, what up
We in this bish
E what up
We in this hoe
Yeah
Yeahh

Verse 1
My bitch bad to bone
Keep a job she flexing
She ain’t worry bout hoes
Them hating hoes, Just be stressin
Wearing there home girls drawls
Damn girl You nasty
Gone head and take it off
Cause that don’t even look right yea
Bet my money
Look right yeah
Yall baby daddy’s
Don’t look right yeah
He be bumming
Damn right yeah
Yea I said it
Yea right Yea
You niggas be actin jive
These hoes be actin so bi
These niggas be living a lie
Smoking all on that fry
Ima get rich or die trying
I’m John Travolta staying alive
I’m getting money busting rhymes
You niggas not making a dime
Yall trying get rich off that crime
But niggas
Can’t handle the time
Fold up on the line
Snitching should be a damn crime
Do ya time, pay the fine
Yo Bitch ugly my wine
We gshocking with the time
Time waits for no man like I
I’m easy money mci
I swim in money Like dive
My momma a Davis like clive
So you know we was born to be live yeahh

Hook
Flexing everywhere I go, yeah yeah
Spending everywhere I go, yeah yeah
My bitch bad
She in go mode, oh yea
Your bitch ugly
And she is broke, God damn

Verse 2
Babymama’s
Tripping on a nigga
Babymama’s yea yea
Trynna get my figures
But naw they can’t have none
Trynna take a niggas funds
Cause they dealing with them bums
And my bitch
She number one
And your bitch
She number none
My bitch the truth
The phenomenon
Yo Bitch loose
When she in the club
My bitch at home accounting
Making dubs
I don’t go out
Cause I be making love ( to the money)
Yall out every week
Trynna find some love
I’m at home
Getting back rubs
Yall at the club
Lookin at scrubs
God damn
You hoes ain’t gone get no better
Your nigga dont get no cheddar
Ima king nigga like coretta
I’m saucy money
With the sweater
My clothing line
Yea forever
I’m saucy money
With the sweater
My clothing line
Yea forever
My team winning
Like taPachulia

Hook
Flexing everywhere I go, yeah yeah
Spending everywhere I go, yeah yeah
My bitch bad
She in go mode, oh yea
Your bitch ugly
And she is broke, God damn

Bridge
Flexing
Ohhh we flexing
Flexing
You know we flexing
Ohhhh
Oohhhhweee
Ohhhh
Oohhhhweee
Flexing
You know we flexing
Flexing
You know we flexing
Ohhhh
Oohhhhweee
Ohhhh
Oohhhhweee

Yeah
I like that

Jon Bellion – JT Lyrics

[Verse 1: Jon Bellion & Travis Mendes]
A song a day for six years seems like light years away from today
(Hey, hey, hey, hey)
Too many coincidences and instances of God’s hand, it’s insane
(Hey, hey, hey, hey)
I thought my way to greatness
I could claim this, but he gave me the brain (Hey, hey, hey, hey)
You know what I’m saying?
And those thoughts can get confusing, it’s amusing
But tonight, we celebrate (Hey, hey, hey, hey)

[Pre-Chorus: Jon Bellion]
Lay me down, put me out
Call me home, let me know
I’m ready to go
‘Cause I was down, now, I’ve flown
Oh, what’s reality lately?

[Chorus: Jon Bellion]
Remember dreams seemed far away
Was pinching pennies like Lane and Hardaway
Now my beats make feasts for holidays in Greece
And I don’t mean John Travolta
Remember dreams seemed far away
Was pinching pennies like Lane and Hardaway
Now my beats make feasts for holidays in Greece
And I don’t mean John Travolta
And I don’t mean John Travolta, yeah
And I don’t mean John Travolta

[Verse 2: Jon Bellion & Travis Mendes]
Dancing under sunset, in the mountains, just reflecting for the day
(Hey, hey, hey, hey)
I’ve seen this in my head a million times
But to see it come to life is just insane (Hey, hey, hey, hey)
Champagne and orange juice
Mimosas were Pulp Fiction in the way (Hey, hey, hey, hey)
That all can get confusing, it’s amusing, but tonight (Celebrate)

[Pre-Chorus: Jon Bellion]
Lay me down, put me out
Call me home, let me know
I’m ready to go
‘Cause I was down, now, I’ve flown
Oh, what’s reality lately? (Oh)

[Chorus: Jon Bellion]
Remember dreams seemed far away
Was pinching pennies like Lane and Hardaway
Now my beats make feasts for holidays in Greece
And I don’t mean John Travolta
Remember dreams seemed far away
Was pinching pennies like Lane and Hardaway
Now my beats make feasts for holidays in Greece
And I don’t mean John Travolta

[Bridge: Jon Bellion]
Put me out
Call me home, let me know
I’m ready to go
‘Cause I was down, now, I’ve flown
Oh, what’s reality lately? (Oh)

[Chorus: Jon Bellion]
Remember dreams seemed far away
Was pinching pennies like Lane and Hardaway
Now my beats make feasts for holidays in Greece
And I don’t mean John Travolta
Remember dreams seemed far away
Was pinching pennies like Lane and Hardaway
Now my beats make feasts for holidays in Greece
And I don’t mean John Travolta

[Outro: Jon Bellion]
Far away, Hardaway
Holiday, don’t mean John Travolta
Far away, Hardaway
Holiday, don’t mean John Travolta
Lay me down, put me out
Call me home
(Holiday, don’t mean John Travolta)
(Don’t mean John Travolta)
Call me home
I’m ready to go

Eyes on the highway – Robbie Williams lyrics

Lyrics Robbie Williams – Eyes on the highway

It’s the end of the movie and your story’s been told
No one’s unhappy and no one got old
And your heart won’t break and it won’t weigh a ton
When life is just a sitcom and that’s not the answer
You’re a sole survivor ’cause your soul survived
The first to understand it, the last one alive
And you know will live forever ’cause that’s just how it goes
‘Til we all remember what everybody knows.(eyes on the highway)

Just keep your eyes on the highway. (x4)

You’ve been heading down the road now
In front of seven billion souls now
Just keep your eyes on the highway
Just keep your eyes on the highwaaay
I know something doesn’t feel right
When you’re blinded by the headlights
Just keep your eyes on the highwaaay
Just keep your eyes on the highwaaay.

You would die for each other and you probably will
For every lover a lover, if looks could kill
I would die in your arms ’cause that’s the way to go
And I won’t disappoint you ’cause you will never know
For every second that I wasted, every secret that I told
Every lie I’ve ever whispered to everyone involved
I couldn’t be more sorry about how I got things done
I just wanna be John Travolta to Olivia Newton-John.

You’ve been heading down the road now
In front of seven billion souls now
Just keep your eyes on the highwaaay
Just keep your eyes on the highwaaay
Versuri-lyrics.info
I know something doesn’t feel right
When you’re blinded by the headlights
Just keep your eyes on the highwaaay
Just keep your eyes on the highwaaay.

Just keep your eyes on the highwaaay. (x4)

You’ve been heading down the road now
In front of seven billion souls now
Just keep your eyes on the highwaaay
Just keep your eyes on the highwaaay
I know something doesn’t feel right
When you’re blinded by the headlights
Just keep your eyes on the highwaaay
Just keep your eyes on the highwayyy.
Robbie Williams lyrics
Video highway

YO GOTTI – Castro lyrics

(Yeah) Castro
Whoa, whoa, whoa (yeah)
Cubans on me like I’m Castro (yeah)
Bitches like I’m Castro, yah
Kickin’ bitches like I’m Castro (whoa)
Cuban cigar nigga
Spanish chick, JLo
Dope money, Pablo
The double cross you up, eyeball
Castro, Castro, Castro

Cubans on me like I’m Castro
Hit your bitch with a backstroke
Spanish bitch, JLo
Dope money, Pablo
Astronaut, take off
John Travolta (face off)
In the kitchen, have a bake off
She gon’ snort her whole damn face off
Cubans on me like I’m Castro
Hit your bitch with a backstroke
Spanish bitch, JLo
Dope money, Pablo
Astronaut, take off
John Travolta (face off)
In the kitchen, have a bake off
She gon’ snort her whole damn face off

EA Sports, I’m in the Playoffs (in the game)
I’m in Saks goin’ AWOL
I’m at Neimans goin’ AWOL
Hit your bitch in the Aloft
Head cool, but the pussy wack
Wanna unfuck her, get her pussy back
Cuban on your boy, I’m Castro
Hit your bitch with a backstroke
Medellín, Pablo
Money bags, Wells Fargo
Call my driver, where the car go?
100 thousand in my cargo
I get dope by the cargo
I got whips, no car note
I got whips, no slave
All my cribs got maids
All my cribs like a maze
Shit so big, they amazed
Still thuggin’, they amazed
Put me on a track with ‘Ye
In the kitchen rocking ‘Ye’s
In the trenches with the Js
Feds listenin’, we don’t do the phone
They record everythin’ we say

Cubans on me like I’m Castro
Hit your bitch with a backstroke
Spanish bitch, JLo
Dope money, Pablo
Astronaut, take off
John Travolta (face off)
In the kitchen, have a bake off
She gon’ snort her whole damn face off
Cubans on me like I’m Castro
Hit your bitch with a backstroke
Spanish bitch, JLo
Dope money, Pablo
Astronaut, take off
John Travolta (face off)
In the kitchen, have a bake off
She gon’ snort her whole damn face off

Quavo, honcho
My life like Pablo
Cuban hoes fall in love with a nigga
They’ll treat me like Fabio
Off white like shell toes
Stick to the money, velcro
Standin’ on the top ropes
Then I jump down, hit you with the elbow
Why do the birds need a plane if they can fly?
I be standin’ in the field with the fire
So many onions in the trap, make me cry
My styrofoam got more oil than Dubai
Ridin’ round with extendo
Ridin’ round with extendo
Never, never, serve ya kinfolk
Never, never, serve ya kinfolk
Niggas shootin’ out the window
Niggas shootin’ at your window
Yeah, you better keep your head low
Feds watchin’, better lay low

Cubans on me like I’m Castro
Hit your bitch with a backstroke
Spanish bitch, JLo
Dope money, Pablo
Astronaut, take off
John Travolta (face off)
In the kitchen, have a bake off
She gon’ snort her whole damn face off

Anti lame nigga
Take your girl like a pain killer
Just saw a picture of your first baby mama
Look like a train hit her
Can’t finesse me, I’m the finest
AKA, it’s your Highness
I don’t know if she got a snort habit
Or the bitch got sinus
Pyrex tried to sign us
Bakin’ soda tryna sign us
Got a red stove and a gold fork
Shit lookin’ like the ‘9’ers
Told shawty, you a minus
And I say it out of kindness
Cuban links change the climate
Dick tall, she can climb it
Sold so many damn bags
I coulda went diamond
Watch wristband diamond
On my neck look diamond
Simon says nigga stop takin’ my shit
Nigga, start rhymin’
4 rings like an Audi
Hotel suite, cloudy

Cubans on me like I’m Castro
Hit your bitch with a backstroke
Spanish bitch, JLo
Dope money, Pablo
Astronaut, take off
John Travolta (face off)
In the kitchen, have a bake off
She gon’ snort her whole damn face off

Yo Gotti – Castro lyrics

itemid=”http://www.directlyrics.com/yo-gotti-artist.html”>YO GOTTI Castro lyrics

(Yeah) Castro
Whoa, whoa, whoa (yeah)
Cubans on me like I’m Castro (yeah)
Bitches like I’m Castro, yah
Kickin’ bitches like I’m Castro (whoa)
Cuban cigar nigga
Spanish chick, JLo
Dope money, Pablo
The double cross you up, eyeball
Castro, Castro, Castro

Cubans on me like I’m Castro
Hit your bitch with a backstroke
Spanish bitch, JLo
Dope money, Pablo
Astronaut, take off
John Travolta (face off)
In the kitchen, have a bake off
She gon’ snort her whole damn face off
Cubans on me like I’m Castro
Hit your bitch with a backstroke
Spanish bitch, JLo
Dope money, Pablo
Astronaut, take off
John Travolta (face off)
In the kitchen, have a bake off
She gon’ snort her whole damn face off

EA Sports, I’m in the Playoffs (in the game)
I’m in Saks goin’ AWOL
I’m at Neimans goin’ AWOL
Hit your bitch in the Aloft
Head cool, but the pussy wack
Wanna unfuck her, get her pussy back
Cuban on your boy, I’m Castro
Hit your bitch with a backstroke
Medellín, Pablo
Money bags, Wells Fargo
Call my driver, where the car go?
100 thousand in my cargo
I get dope by the cargo
I got whips, no car note
I got whips, no slave
All my cribs got maids
All my cribs like a maze
Shit so big, they amazed
Still thuggin’, they amazed
Put me on a track with ‘Ye
In the kitchen rocking ‘Ye’s
In the trenches with the Js
Feds listenin’, we don’t do the phone
They record everythin’ we say

Cubans on me like I’m Castro
Hit your bitch with a backstroke
Spanish bitch, JLo
Dope money, Pablo
Astronaut, take off
John Travolta (face off)
In the kitchen, have a bake off
She gon’ snort her whole damn face off
Cubans on me like I’m Castro
Hit your bitch with a backstroke
Spanish bitch, JLo
Dope money, Pablo
Astronaut, take off
John Travolta (face off)
In the kitchen, have a bake off
She gon’ snort her whole damn face off

Quavo, honcho
My life like Pablo
Cuban hoes fall in love with a nigga
They’ll treat me like Fabio
Off white like shell toes
Stick to the money, velcro
Standin’ on the top ropes
Then I jump down, hit you with the elbow
Why do the birds need a plane if they can fly?
I be standin’ in the field with the fire
So many onions in the trap, make me cry
My styrofoam got more oil than Dubai
Ridin’ round with extendo
Ridin’ round with extendo
Never, never, serve ya kinfolk
Never, never, serve ya kinfolk
Niggas shootin’ out the window
Niggas shootin’ at your window
Yeah, you better keep your head low
Feds watchin’, better lay low

Cubans on me like I’m Castro
Hit your bitch with a backstroke
Spanish bitch, JLo
Dope money, Pablo
Astronaut, take off
John Travolta (face off)
In the kitchen, have a bake off
She gon’ snort her whole damn face off

Anti lame nigga
Take your girl like a pain killer
Just saw a picture of your first baby mama
Look like a train hit her
Can’t finesse me, I’m the finest
AKA, it’s your Highness
I don’t know if she got a snort habit
Or the bitch got sinus
Pyrex tried to sign us
Bakin’ soda tryna sign us
Got a red stove and a gold fork
Shit lookin’ like the ‘9’ers
Told shawty, you a minus
And I say it out of kindness
Cuban links change the climate
Dick tall, she can climb it
Sold so many damn bags
I coulda went diamond
Watch wristband diamond
On my neck look diamond
Simon says nigga stop takin’ my shit
Nigga, start rhymin’
4 rings like an Audi
Hotel suite, cloudy

Cubans on me like I’m Castro
Hit your bitch with a backstroke
Spanish bitch, JLo
Dope money, Pablo
Astronaut, take off
John Travolta (face off)
In the kitchen, have a bake off
She gon’ snort her whole damn face off

Yo Gotti – Castro (feat. Kanye West, Quavo, Big Sean & 2 Chainz)

[Intro: Yo Gotti, Big Sean (Kanye West) & 2 Chainz]
(Yeah) Castro
Whoa, whoa, whoa (yeah)
Cubans on me like I’m Castro (yeah)
Bitches like I’m Castro, yah
Kickin’ bitches like I’m Castro (whoa)
Cuban cigar nigga
Spanish chick, JLo
Dope money, Pablo
The double cross you up, eyeball
Castro, Castro, Castro

[Hook: Yo Gotti, Kanye West & Quavo]
Cubans on me like I’m Castro
Hit your bitch with a backstroke
Spanish bitch, JLo
Dope money, Pablo
Astronaut, take off
John Travolta (face off)
In the kitchen, have a bake off
She gon’ snort her whole damn face off
Cubans on me like I’m Castro
Hit your bitch with a backstroke
Spanish bitch, JLo
Dope money, Pablo
Astronaut, take off
John Travolta (face off)
In the kitchen, have a bake off
She gon’ snort her whole damn face off

[Verse 1: Yo Gotti & Kanye West]
EA Sports, I’m in the Playoffs
I’m in Saks goin’ AWOL
I’m at Neimans goin’ AWOL
Hit your bitch in the A loft
Hair cool but the pussy wack
Wanna unfuck her, get her pussy back
Cuban on your boy, I’m Castro
Hit your bitch with a backstroke
Medellín, Pablo
Money bags, Wells Fargo
Call my driver, where the car go?
100 thousand in my cargo
I get dope by the cargo
I got whips, no car note
I got whips, no slave
All my cribs got maids
All my cribs like a maze
Shit so big, they amazed
Still thuggin’, they amazed
Put me on a track with ‘Ye
In the kitchen rocking ‘Ye’s
In the trenches with the Js
Feds listenin’, we don’t do the phone
They record everythin’ we say

[Hook: Yo Gotti, Kanye West & Quavo]
Cubans on me like I’m Castro
Hit your bitch with a backstroke
Spanish bitch, JLo
Dope money, Pablo
Astronaut, take off
John Travolta (face off)
In the kitchen, have a bake off
She gon’ snort her whole damn face off
Cubans on me like I’m Castro
Hit your bitch with a backstroke
Spanish bitch, JLo
Dope money, Pablo
Astronaut, take off
John Travolta (face off)
In the kitchen, have a bake off
She gon’ snort her whole damn face off

[Verse 2: Quavo]
Quavo, honcho
My life like Pablo
Cuban hoes fall in love with a nigga
They’ll treat me like Fabio
Off white like shell toes
Stick to the money, velcro
Standin’ on the top row
Then I jump down, hit you with the elbow
Why do the birds need a plane if they can fly?
I be standin’ in the field with the fire
So many onions in the trap, make me cry
My styrofoam got more oil than Dubai
Ridin’ round with extendo
Ridin’ round with extendo
Never, never, serve ya kinfolk
Never, never, serve ya kinfolk
Niggas shootin’ out the window
Niggas shootin’ at your window
Yeah, you better keep your head low
Feds watchin’, better lay low

[Hook: Yo Gotti, Kanye West & Quavo]
Cubans on me like I’m Castro
Hit your bitch with a backstroke
Spanish bitch, JLo
Dope money, Pablo
Astronaut, take off
John Travolta (face off)
In the kitchen, have a bake off
She gon’ snort her whole damn face off

[Verse 3: 2 Chainz]
Anti lame nigga
Take your girl like a pain killer
Just saw a picture of your first baby mama
Look like a train hit her
Can’t finesse me, I’m the finest
AKA, it’s your Highness
I don’t know if she got a snort habit
Or the bitch got sinus
Pyrex tried to sign us
Bakin’ soda tryna sign us
Got a red stove and a gold fork
Shit lookin’ like the ‘9’ers
Told shawty, you a minus
And I say it out of kindness
Cuban links change the climate
Dick tall, she can climb it
Sold so many damn bags
I coulda went dimin’
Watch wristband diamond
On my neck look diamond
Simon said, nigga start takin’ my shit
Nigga, start rhymin’
4 rings like an Audi
Hotel suite, cloudy

[Hook: Yo Gotti, Kanye West & Quavo]
Cubans on me like I’m Castro
Hit your bitch with a backstroke
Spanish bitch, JLo
Dope money, Pablo
Astronaut, take off
John Travolta (face off)
In the kitchen, have a bake off
She gon’ snort her whole damn face off