Pressa – Wassi Callin’ Lyrics

[Intro]
(Money Music)
Every night I hear Wassi callin’ x4
Press machine
Ugh ugh

[Verse]
Pressa got me fellin’ like the city mine
And niggas ridin’ dick just for a co-sign
They ain’t never shoot a nigga much less really grind
I’m my own boss
Work on my own time

And niggas hating’ on me baby notice it
And you’re partially the reason why it’s happening (bad bitch)
Niggas wanna shoot me but they fidgeting
And all that side talk I feel like pulling’ it
Niggas in my city they ain’t do a lot (they do the most)
They gon’ claim a body another nigga caught (they fake)
Flexin’ on the gram wit another niggas wad
I learn to get this money stash it till it rot

What happened to the throne all my niggas lost
It costs to be a boss so nigga whatchu got (whatchu sell?)
And I be sellin’ shit way more than Amazon
And my bitch catch a body like she Remy Ma

They be lyin’ just to know who we really are
We went from shootin’ at the cops for running from the north
Life in the shopping cart
I’m in the killa car
If he ain’t BFR (nascar)
Then tell him be a far

Can’t afford this name on my disclosure (I can’t)
I love to read these nigga do my home work (essay)
They took my bro Wass lost my composure (i lost it)
And every dream of him of him I feel closer (i’m closer)
And niggas they so normal they so typical (typical)
I learned to chip a brick and turn my wrist to gold (a rollie)
I been stuntin’ on these niggas like I’m stone cold (stunna)
And that kick out the fifth felt like a field goal (field goal)

Money like BMO (BMO)
Flyer than UFOs (i’m so fly)
And they say I’m too Wassi for the radio (i’m too wass)
And ain’t no better way than learnin’ on your own
And cops keep tellin’ venues not to book my show (realshit)

f**k this rap shit
I used to wrap shit (wrap shit)
Reply to a diss song I find it pointless
Book your appointment
It get annoying
30 shots so much bullets you couldn’t avoid it (can’t, can’t)

Soon as the December hit
The getting ricoish
Project Marvel kid
They find it marvelous
Black mask, black gloves, black Timberlands
And this one gon’ scar permanent

She f**k with savages
That got no milage (she don’t)
And all she wanna do is be my stylist (designer bitch)
I made a hunnid G’s of LG
And I live by the courts like I’m LG
I been runnin’ up the shit but no athlete (flip phone)
I live by the court like I’m LG (courts gang)
I been runnin’ up the shit but no athlete
And I got the fifth on me number 30

I been ballin’ on these niggas Jalen Poyser
I just blew 50K on my lawyer
Shordy in LA might employ her (I might)
But Pressa couldn’t even cross the border (I can’t)

Pressa Armani
T-shirt Givenchy
Lately been busy
Whipped up a whole key
Tryna stay lowkey
Smokin’ your homies
(Deadmi Deadmi Deadmi Deadmihana)

This game it got slots like Nintendo (64)
Niggas want respect with no credentials
And I stay with the stick like a old folk
She got hot now I’m switchin’ up my rental

Pressa – Wassi Callin Intro

[Intro]
(Money Music)
Every night I hear Wassi callin’ x4
Press machine
Ugh ugh

[Verse]
Pressa got me fellin’ like the city mine
And niggas ridin’ dick just for a co-sign
They ain’t never shoot a nigga much less really grind
I’m my own boss
Work on my own time

And niggas hating’ on me baby notice it
And you’re partially the reason why it’s happening (bad bitch)
Niggas wanna shoot me but they fidgeting
And all that side talk I feel like pulling’ it
Niggas in my city they ain’t do a lot (they do the most)
They gon’ claim a body another nigga caught (they fake)
Flexin’ on the gram wit another niggas wad
I learn to get this money stash it till it rot

What happened to the throne all my niggas lost
It costs to be a boss so nigga whatchu got (whatchu sell?)
And I be sellin’ shit way more than Amazon
And my bitch catch a body like she Remy Ma

They be lyin’ just to know who we really are
We went from shootin’ at the cops for running from the north
Life in the shopping cart
I’m in the killa car
If he ain’t BFR (nascar)
Then tell him be a far

Can’t afford this name on my disclosure (I can’t)
I love to read these nigga do my home work (essay)
They took my bro Wass lost my composure (i lost it)
And every dream I dream of him I feel i’m closer (i’m closer)
And niggas they so normal they so typical (typical)
I learned to chip a brick and turn my wrist to gold (a rollie)
I been stuntin’ on these niggas like I’m stone cold (stunna)
And that kick out the fifth felt like a field goal (field goal)

Money like BMO (BMO)
Flyer than UFOs (i’m so fly)
And they say I’m to was Wassi for the radio (i’m too wass)
And ain’t no better way than learnin’ on your own
And cops keep tellin’ venues not to book my show (realshit)

Fuck this rap shit
I used to wrap shit (wrap shit)
Reply to a diss song I find it pointless
Book your appointment
It get annoying
30 shots so much bullets you couldn’t avoid it (can’t, can’t)

Soon as the December hit
The getting ricoish
Project Marvel kid
They find it marvelous
Black mask, black gloves, black Timberlands
And this one gon’ scar permanent

She fuck with savages
That got no milage (she don’t)
And all she wanna do is be my stylist (designer bitch)
I made a hunnid G’s of LG
And I live by the courts like I’m LG
I been runnin’ up the shit but no athlete (flip phone)
I live by the court like I’m LG (courts gang)
I been runnin’ up the shit but no athlete
And I got the fifth on me number 30

I been ballin’ on these niggas [?]
I just blew 50K on my lawyer
Shordy in LA might employ her (I might)
But Pressa couldn’t even cross the border (I can’t)

Pressa Armorni
T-shirt Givenchy
Lately been busy
Whipped up a whole key
Tryna stay lowkey
Smoking’ your homies
(Deadmi Deadmi Deadmi Deadmihana)

This game it got slapped like Nintendo (64)
Niggas want respect with no credentials
And I stay with the stick like a old folk
She got hot now I’m switchin’ up my rental

ROB STONE – Chill Bill lyrics

Rob $tone, two damn phones
Babylons can’t crack the code
Used to sip out styrofoam
But figured I should stick to dro (weed!)
Backwoods overload
Don’t like to smoke them swishers, ho
If you hit my liquor store
It’s 50 cents for single Ports

Said she wanna roll with me and smoke up all my weed
I said, “Baby just buy Dutches ’cause you can’t smoke for free
I got some loud but no money, babe, buy me a Fiji”
She said, “You need a job”, bitch, fuck a job, I still get cheese

Two cell phones, Mr. Mothafuck-a-thot
Mr. I Be On That Block, 12-07 fuck an op
They hear my name, they see my squad
Rolling dope up on the spot
I’m with your bitch, she on my jock
Ain’t got no time to love a thot
Got niggas mad, my flow so hot
Got niggas mad, my squad won’t stop
We in the game, won’t take no loss
I’m sippin’ water out the Voss
Got lean all in my fuckin’ Sprite
Turnin’ up on fuckin’ sight
Mr. Kenny Powers
Bout to take your girlfriend home tonight, bitch

And I’m smokin’ on that widow when you see it out the window
Got a dusty old tee, lookin’ bummy, leave it simple
Growin’ up, I was always in the middle
So I gotta hold it down for my older and my little
And my brothas beside me so fuck it we mobbin’ deep
Always grimey, no findin’ me but I be in LG
If your lil’ fuckboy lame ass wanna creep
I live by the lemon ’cause that fucka chose me

Said she wanna roll with me and smoke up all my weed
I said, “Baby just buy Dutches ’cause you can’t smoke for free
I got some loud but no money, babe, buy me a Fiji”
She said, “You need a job”, bitch, fuck a job, I still get cheese

Rob Stone – Chill Bill lyrics

itemid=”http://www.directlyrics.com/rob-stone-artist.html”>ROB STONE Chill Bill lyrics

Rob $tone, two damn phones
Babylons can’t crack the code
Used to sip out styrofoam
But figured I should stick to dro (weed!)
Backwoods overload
Don’t like to smoke them swishers, ho
If you hit my liquor store
It’s 50 cents for single Ports

Said she wanna roll with me and smoke up all my weed
I said, “Baby just buy Dutches ’cause you can’t smoke for free
I got some loud but no money, babe, buy me a Fiji”
She said, “You need a job”, bitch, fuck a job, I still get cheese

Two cell phones, Mr. Mothafuck-a-thot
Mr. I Be On That Block, 12-07 fuck an op
They hear my name, they see my squad
Rolling dope up on the spot
I’m with your bitch, she on my jock
Ain’t got no time to love a thot
Got niggas mad, my flow so hot
Got niggas mad, my squad won’t stop
We in the game, won’t take no loss
I’m sippin’ water out the Voss
Got lean all in my fuckin’ Sprite
Turnin’ up on fuckin’ sight
Mr. Kenny Powers
Bout to take your girlfriend home tonight, bitch

And I’m smokin’ on that widow when you see it out the window
Got a dusty old tee, lookin’ bummy, leave it simple
Growin’ up, I was always in the middle
So I gotta hold it down for my older and my little
And my brothas beside me so fuck it we mobbin’ deep
Always grimey, no findin’ me but I be in LG
If your lil’ fuckboy lame ass wanna creep
I live by the lemon ’cause that fucka chose me

Said she wanna roll with me and smoke up all my weed
I said, “Baby just buy Dutches ’cause you can’t smoke for free
I got some loud but no money, babe, buy me a Fiji”
She said, “You need a job”, bitch, fuck a job, I still get cheese

Kano – Hurt

[Hook]

I put in work, other spitters ain’t worth
Ten pence for their words, I was bad from birth
You should put ’em in a skirt, with a pretty pink purse
I got that fire, hot shit like Jerk
I locked it like bar staff slicking
The wire, fire, the bars I spit
Tree to tree on some Tarzan shit
I merk, don’t put me on a verse
Please don’t do it to yourself believe me
I merk, don’t put me on a verse
Please don’t do it to yourself
I told you I merk, don’t put me on a verse
Please don’t do it to yourself believe me
You know me I merk, don’t put me on a verse
Please don’t do it to yourself
[Verse 1]

I got the power, this is my Austin hour
I floss material, hot for hours
I’m fire, I can’t be fired
Grip the road like a Ferrari tyre
I’m flyer, LV buyer
You can see me on your LG
It’s like a riot, my shields are real
Rider, popping that (?)
I hit the stage I do this well
You too so I got coupes as well
Come to my show and prove to yourself
Anytime I drop my tune it’ll sell
Cause they can’t understand other guys
Like the baby out of Family Guy
I’m crazy, I ain’t actually high
Just think that I’m actually fly
I deliver these lines with impact when I write
Straight to the point, now my batts gonna die
And OK you’re rapping alright
But I ain’t practising mine
I got flows for days, bars for weeks
I’m K, A to the N i’m around where things evolved
Cash rules everything around me baby
Got my circle bun like Audi baby

[Hook]

I put in work, other spitters ain’t worth
Ten pence for their words, I was bad from birth
You should put ’em in a skirt, with a pretty pink purse
I got that fire, hot shit like Jerk
I locked it like bar staff slicking
The wire, fire, the bars I spit
Tree to tree on some Tarzan shit
I merk, don’t put me on a verse
Please don’t do it to yourself believe me
I merk, don’t put me on a verse
Please don’t do it to yourself
I told you I merk, don’t put me on a verse
Please don’t do it to yourself believe me
You know me I merk, don’t put me on a verse
Please don’t do it to yourself

Kano – Hurt Lyrics

[Hook]

I put in work, other spitters ain’t worth
Ten pence for their words, I was bad from birth
You should put ’em in a skirt, with a pretty pink purse
I got that fire, hot shit like Jerk
I locked it like bar staff slicking
The wire, fire, the bars I spit
Tree to tree on some Tarzan shit
I merk, don’t put me on a verse
Please don’t do it to yourself believe me
I merk, don’t put me on a verse
Please don’t do it to yourself
I told you I merk, don’t put me on a verse
Please don’t do it to yourself believe me
You know me I merk, don’t put me on a verse
Please don’t do it to yourself
[Verse 1]

I got the power, this is my Austin hour
I floss material, hot for hours
I’m fire, I can’t be fired
Grip the road like a Ferrari tyre
I’m flyer, LV buyer
You can see me on your LG
It’s like a riot, my shields are real
Rider, popping that (?)
I hit the stage I do this well
You too so I got coupes as well
Come to my show and prove to yourself
Anytime I drop my tune it’ll sell
Cause they can’t understand other guys
Like the baby out of Family Guy
I’m crazy, I ain’t actually high
Just think that I’m actually fly
I deliver these lines with impact when I write
Straight to the point, now my batts gonna die
And OK you’re rapping alright
But I ain’t practising mine
I got flows for days, bars for weeks
I’m K, A to the N i’m around where things evolved
Cash rules everything around me baby
Got my circle bun like Audi baby

[Hook]

I put in work, other spitters ain’t worth
Ten pence for their words, I was bad from birth
You should put ’em in a skirt, with a pretty pink purse
I got that fire, hot shit like Jerk
I locked it like bar staff slicking
The wire, fire, the bars I spit
Tree to tree on some Tarzan shit
I merk, don’t put me on a verse
Please don’t do it to yourself believe me
I merk, don’t put me on a verse
Please don’t do it to yourself
I told you I merk, don’t put me on a verse
Please don’t do it to yourself believe me
You know me I merk, don’t put me on a verse
Please don’t do it to yourself

Rob $tone – Chill Bill lyrics

[Verse 1: Rob $tone]
Rob $tone two damn phones
Babylons can’t crack the code
Used to sip out styrofoam but figured I should stick to dro (weed!)

Backwoods overload don’t like to smoke them swishers hoe
If you hit my liquor store it’s 50 cents for single Ports

[Hook: Rob $tone]
Said she wanna roll with me and smoke up all my weed
I said baby just buy dutches cause you can’t smoke for free
I got some loud but no money babe buy me a Fiji
She said you need a job, bitch fuck a job I still get cheese

[Verse 2: J. Davi$]
Two cell phones, Mr. Mothafuck-a-thot
Mr. I be on that block
Twelve o seven fuck an op
They hear my name they see my squad
Rolling dope up on the spot
I’m with your bitch she on my jock
Ain’t got no time to love a thot
Got niggas mad my flow so hot
Got niggas mad my squad won’t stop
We in the game won’t take no loss
Im sippin water out the Voss
Got lean all in my fuckin’ Sprite
Turnin up on fuckin sight
Mr. Kenny Powers bouta take your girlfriend home tonight, bitch

[Verse 3: Spooks]
And I’m smokin’ on that widow
When you see it out the window
Got a dusty old tee
Lookin’ bummy leave it simple
Growin’ up I was always in the middle
So I gotta hold it down for my older and my little
And my brothas beside me so fuck it we mobbin’ deep
Always grimey, no findin’ me
But I be in LG
If your lil fuck boy lame ass wanna creep
I live by the lemon cause that fucka chose me

[Hook: Rob $tone]
Said she wanna roll with me and smoke up all my weed
I said baby just buy dutches cause you can’t smoke for free
I got some loud but no money babe buy me a Fiji
She said you need a job, bitch fuck a job I still get cheese