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

Katie Tropp – Expose You Lyrics

[Verse 1]

Walkin’ down the street all alone on a cold night
You would think a girl like me wouldn’t stand a chance right
But secretly I’m a beast on the inside
Ain’t afraid of nothin’ because I won’t go down without a fight
There’s a chance I might be carrying some kind of weapon
It might be a switch blade or a Smith & Wesson
There ain’t no tellin’ because I caused an erection
In your f**kin’ pants and you just lost all your senses
I am so outta control you cannot stop me
Spike your head like a football like Gronkowski
I stand tall alone don’t need a crowd around me
Hip hop is giving birth look I am crowning
Bitch just shat me out her cunt like what
Gave me a paper and a pen and a big fat blunt
These are your tools to success become the master
The goal is to be the best don’t wanna be a chump!

[Hook]

This is what I’m all about I’m ready to expose you
Speak the truth no matter what even if you don’t want me to
Because I always keep it real like you spose to
Katie Tropp mother f**ker gonna expose you!

This is what I’m all about I’m ready to expose you
Speak the truth no matter what even if you don’t want me to
Because I always keep it real like you spose to
Katie Tropp mother f**ker gonna expose you!

[Verse 2]

I don’t make music for kids if you got a problem
Tell someone who gives a shit cuz I ain’t stoppin’
Not sure what your problem is just bein’ honest
If you stopped to listen you would feel me I promise
But in white America they live in a box
They won’t ever come out or ever see beyond
What they f**kin’ know or what they’ve been taught
Pretend that they compassionate when they really not
When a black kid gets shot in the ghetto
They don’t say a prayer or hold up no candle
But when the evil infiltrates into the suburbs
All of a sudden the world stops and they’re lookin’ for answers
Wear some stupid ribbon take up a worthless cause
Shove it in everybody’s face make it impossible to move on
We all suffer tragedy it’s what we call life
But I guess it only matters when your skin color is white!

[Hook]

This is what I’m all about I’m ready to expose you
Speak the truth no matter what even if you don’t want me to
Because I always keep it real like you spose to
Katie Tropp mother f**ker gonna expose you!

This is what I’m all about I’m ready to expose you
Speak the truth no matter what even if you don’t want me to
Because I always keep it real like you spose to
Katie Tropp mother f**ker gonna expose you!

[Verse 3]

Do you hear what I’m sayin’? Well probably not
Because you’re all a bunch of f**k heads who should suck on a cock
Choke on it hard that’s the only way you gonna shutup
You voice is so damn annoying it makes me wanna upchuck
And an opinion don’t mean nothin’ so keep it to yourself
You don’t know what you talkin’ about you just follow everybody else
Form a lynch mob and leave a blood trail
If you think I’m bout to join a crowd you don’t know me that well
You can all burn in hell just follow your leader
You can’t think for yourself you caught that dumbass fever
You only know about that bullshit the media be feeding ya
They hook your ass in and plant their f**kin’ seed in ya
You don’t even know that this is the plan
Cuz you’re so f**kin’ caught up in fairytale land
If you step outta your box you will finally understand
That they got you bent over and are f**kin’ you in the ass!

[Hook]

This is what I’m all about I’m ready to expose you
Speak the truth no matter what even if you don’t want me to
Because I always keep it real like you spose to
Katie Tropp mother f**ker gonna expose you!

This is what I’m all about I’m ready to expose you
Speak the truth no matter what even if you don’t want me to
Because I always keep it real like you spose to
Katie Tropp mother f**ker gonna expose you!

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

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

Cuban Doll – Bankrupt (Remix) (feat. Lil Yachty & Lil Baby) lyrics

[Verse 1: Cuban Doll]
Hundred bands, times a hundred bands
Can you get it, ain’t no running man
Keep a hundred rounds, we gon’ get him
I ain’t never gave a fuck about no bitch
Cause I’m bigger and I’m better
Keep a Smith & Wesson we can do whatever, aye
You say you a boss, I know you a lame
And that nigga ugly what the fuck you saying?
You ain’t getting money girl you need a plan
You a broke bitch, always holding out your hand
I’m a real bitch
I just be getting bad
Spend and get it back then I spend it with my mans
That money in my hand put it right on your head
Ain’t no loss, I’m a boss I can do that shit again, ayy
Fuck a role we speak facts
If a lame bitch talking I won’t even speak that
Keep that .45 all black, we strapped, we back
Pop up on ’em make a bitch see that, aye

[Chorus: Cuban Doll]
Fuck all them niggas we gon’ fuck up this cash
I hopped out my feelings and I hopped in my bag
Hopped in a foreign, bitch you hopped in a cab
Still living with your mama you ain’t hopped off your ass, ayy

[Verse 2: Cuban Doll]
I’m a real bitch I can’t fake shit
You a fucking pussy you don’t shake shit
You just figured it out bruh you late bitch
You a broke bitch you ain’t got no vest to play with
Somewhere out in Cali do the dash in a spaceship
You somewhere in the crib looking mad cause you ain’t shit
You ain’t tough, big bank take little bank
Bitch you bankrupt
All them hoes losing but they ain’t us

[Chorus: Cuban Doll]
Fuck all them niggas we gon’ fuck up this cash
I hopped out my feelings and I hopped in my bag
Hopped in a foreign, bitch you hopped in a cab
Still living with your mama you ain’t hopped off your ass, ayy
Fuck all them niggas we gon’ fuck up this cash
I hopped out my feelings and I hopped in my bag
Hopped in a foreign, bitch you hopped in a cab
Still living with your mama you ain’t hopped off your ass, ayy

[Verse 3: Lil Yachty]
All these mad rappers dirty, will I keep a .30
Spent long nights ridin’ low and dirty, now my coop is prayin’ tutu
[?] cockin’, get to jerkin’ have ’em niggas swervin’
Niggas servin’, bitches drinkin’ bourbon, I remember back when hoes was curvin’
Now I fuck hoes when I wanna (yeah)
Boy used to post on the corner (yeah)
[?] bitches was foreign
Killin’ shit, sendin’ these hoes to the coroner (yeah)
Don’t be sad now a nigga up
AP’s goin’ dumb, why you comin’ out bitch if you ain’t tryna make me cum?
Stupid ass bitch, I said so, wanna smack you
Gon’ and pull up so my lil sister can stab you
Gang posted up on the corner like a statue
Clist round my check like a motherfuckin’ satchel

[Pre-Chorus: Cuban Doll]
You ain’t tough, big bank take little bank
Bitch you bankrupt
All them hoes losing but they ain’t us
You ain’t tough, big bank take little bank
Bitch you bankrupt
All them hoes losing but they ain’t us

[Chorus: Cuban Doll]
Fuck all them niggas we gon’ fuck up this cash
I hopped out my feelings and I hopped in my bag
Hopped in a foreign, bitch you hopped in a cab
Still living with your mama you ain’t hopped off your ass, ayy
Fuck all them niggas we gon’ fuck up this cash
I hopped out my feelings and I hopped in my bag
Hopped in a foreign, bitch you hopped in a cab
Still living with your mama you ain’t hopped off your ass, ayy

[Verse 4: Lil Baby]
100 bottles, no sparkles, we already lit
Thousand hunnid, all the bills like we counterfeit
Love the hoe, I slap the bitch, we on some different shit
This shit didn’t come from round the way, I’m on some different drip
Sticky, she wanna get with me
I need me a bad broad, then again, a Nicki
Ain’t leavin’ no witnesses, Christian Lou’, a murder scene
Shout out to the homies behind the wall, yeah, the murder team
The old murder team, the ones that can’t be silent
Sippin’ ‘methazine, it got me out my body
Date time, go and throw a dime all in Folly
Big bank take little bank, I’m really gettin’ money

[Pre-Chorus: Cuban Doll]
You ain’t tough, big bank take little bank
Bitch you bankrupt
All them hoes losing but they ain’t us
You ain’t tough, big bank take little bank
Bitch you bankrupt
All them hoes losing but they ain’t us

[Chorus: Cuban Doll]
Fuck all them niggas we gon’ fuck up this cash
I hopped out my feelings and I hopped in my bag
Hopped in a foreign, bitch you hopped in a cab
Still living with your mama you ain’t hopped off your ass, ayy
Fuck all them niggas we gon’ fuck up this cash
I hopped out my feelings and I hopped in my bag
Hopped in a foreign, bitch you hopped in a cab
Still living with your mama you ain’t hopped off your ass, ayy

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

2Pac – Starring Through My Rearview (feat. E.D.I & Yaki Kadafi) (Remixes Vol. 2 Album)

[Intro: 2Pac]
Starin’ at the world through my rearview
Just lookin’ back at the world
From another level, you know what I mean? Starin’

[Verse 1: 2Pac]
Multiple gunshots fill the block, the fun stops
Niggas is callin’ cops, people shot, nobody stops
I wonder when the world stopped carin’
Last night two kids shot while the whole block starin’
I will never understand this society
First they try to murder me, then they lie to me
Product of a dyin’ breed; all my homies tryin’ weed
Now the little babies crazed, raised off Hennessy
Tell me, will my enemies flee when they see me?
Believe me, even thugs gotta learn to take it easy
Listen, through the intermissions, search your heart for a plan
And we turnin’ bad boys to grown men, it’s on again
I give a holla to my niggas in the darkest corners
Roll a perfect blunt, and let me spark it for ya
One love from a thug nigga
Rollin’ with a posse full of paranoid drug dealers
To the end, my friend, I’m seein’ nothin’ but my dreams comin’ true
While I’m starin’ at the world through my rearview
See, I’m seein’ nothin’ but my dreams comin’ true
While I’m starin’ at the world through my rearview

[Hook: 2Pac]
They got me starin’ at the world through my rearview
Go on, baby, scream to God, he can’t hear you
I can feel your heart beatin’ fast ’cause it’s time to die
Gettin’ high, watchin’ time fly
And all my motherfuckers
Starin’ at the world through my rearview
Go on, baby, scream to God, he can’t hear you
I can feel your heart beatin’ fast ’cause it’s time to die
Gettin’ high, watchin’ time fly
And all my motherfuckers

[Verse 2: E.D.I. Mean]
Now you see him, now you don’t
Some niggas be here for the moment, and then they gone
What happened to ’em?
Well, let’s see, it seems to be a mystery
But all I know I never let the money get to me
Stay down like the truest
Thug Life until I check out this bitch, I thought you knew this
Who is gonna catch me when I fall or even care to?
While you thinkin’ I see you lost up in my rearview
Hear you is down with them Outlawz
Outcast, left far, I’m through like southpaws
But still we keep mashin’ until our dreams come through
Starin’ at the world through my rearview

[Verse 3: 2Pac]
Now, I was raised as a young black male
In order to get paid, forced to make crack sales
Caught a nigga so they send me to these overpacked jails
In the cell, countin’ days in this livin’ black hell
Do you feel me? Keys to ignition, use at your discretion
Roll with a 12 gauge pump for protection
Niggas hate me in the section, from years of chin-checkin’
Turn to Smith & Wesson war weapons
Heavenly Father, I’m a soldier
I’m gettin’ hotter ’cause the world’s gettin’ colder
Baby, let me hold ya: talk to my guns like they fly bitches
All you bustas best to run, look at my bitches!

[Bridge: 2Pac]
Now I know the answers to the question
“Do dreams come true?”
Still starin’ at the world through my rearview
I said, now I know the answer
“Do dreams come true?”
Starin’ at the world through my rearview
Nigga Kadafi say

[Verse 3: Kadafi]
Back in the days we hustled for sneakers and beepers
Nine-six for Glocks
‘Cause fiends hittin’ up blocks with street sweepers
Bless myself when knowin’ rules to these streets
Somethin’ I learned in school
On some Million Man March shit for the piece
True that, only one life to lead, a fast life of greed
Criminally addicted, infested since a seed
We all die, breed, bleed like humans
Towns run by young guns, Outlawz and truants
Shit’s deep, turn eighteen, burn my will when I go
Burnt my body with my shotty, or chosin’ my dough
So while you reminiscin’ all nights out with the crew
Smoke a blunt for me too, I’m starin’ through your rearview

[Outro: 2Pac]
Hahahaha, you ain’t knowin’ what we mean by starin’ through the rearview. So, since you ain’t knowin’ what we mean, let me break down understandin’ the world… The world is behind us. Once a motherfucker get an understandin’ on the game, and what the levels and the rules of the game is, then the world ain’t no trick no more, the world is a game to be played. So, now we lookin’ at the world from, like, behind us. Niggas know what we gotta do: just gotta put our mind to it and do it. It’s all about the papers, money rule the world. Bitches make the world go round. Real niggas do what they wanna do, bitch niggas do what they can.

[Hook repeats until end]

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