Shootergang Kony – Everything Gucci Lyrics

[Intro]
I like it
Ayy

[Verse]
Everything Gucci, gouda
I don’t get benched, I’m a real life shooter, huh?
Want it all, need the chips and the mula
We could take it way back to SS with the Ruger, huh?
Knock it off, bitch tryna get the cock involved
I’m hard-bodied but your mans swore I’m kind of soft
I stumbled in but this chopper on me caught my fall
She got dick, fell in love, now she want my drawers
Am I worried ’bout a sucker? Not at all
Take a seat, watch these real niggas ball
Figured you was soft, seen them niggas, didn’t draw
Now you want me to believe that you gon’ kill ’em in the mall?
Oh Lord, oh my God, you drilled a nigga, put it on your moms, killer
How come they all run like I’m Godzilla?
Run it in, I don’t do no facades
When I get the jumpball, they all round of applause, nigga
Free the Jumpman, f**k two three
Sold my soul to the streets and they gave me a receipt
f**k a rap beef, we gon’ leave it in the streets
Get the drop where he sleep, leave him covered in them sheets
S Gang’s tricks leave your homeboy deceased
Have White Strap come back and put you on your cheeks
You don’t want smoke ’cause we chief like Keef
You don’t got a yeek, when it’s beef, I’ma eat, nigga
Who you finna call when your back against the wall?
Asked him where he from, then I hit him in the jaw
Nigga hoop with us, bet a hundred on my dawg
He don’t even get a chance with the ball
Niggas ain’t ten, you’ll be sidin’ with the law
Niggas yellin’ foul but like half of you soft
I was 15 sellin’ weed in the stores
I’ma leave you on the stove just for thinkin’ that you raw
Hotboy, if you want a problem, you can call, we set it off
And that’s word to my dawg
I’m a real P, if she run, I’ma jog
I’m a big dawg, I will step on y’all paws
Every damn day, my neck ice skate
Yeah, I ended up in jail
Every nigga need a quick lil’ life break
Slaps got his right ate
And where I’m from
If you slap the wrong song you get cleaned up on Aisle 8, nigga

Trippie Redd – Oomps Revenge Lyrics

[Intro]
Somehow, my songs always apply to my real life right now
I be predicting the future
I think I’m good at that shit
Yeah, uh
This is a BeatPusher production

[Chorus]
Every day I keep it real and get that bag, ho
‘Cause that shit up for grabs ho, put that on my tab, ho
Jimmy Neutron, I told that bitch to have a blast, ho
Yes, I’m a asshole, bitch, why you mad for?
They say that I’m mad dope
Ballin’ on a budget with my cousins moving mad dope
To eat and see that cash flow
Niggas always hating but ain’t got no f**king bag, bro
I just keep it pushing, I ain’t worried ’bout the mad folks

[Verse]
If a nigga test me I’ma reach up in this bag though
And put on my ski mask, ho
And let off hella shots and do 200 on the dash, bro
I can’t go out sad, bro
Got a family and I still wanna pop some tags mo’
Used to want a Jag, ho
Now I’m in a Bentley still want the money
SS 14s on the side, it’s Trippie
I don’t think they get me
Build a legacy and hope my niggas be up with me
If not then you is against me
Leave your body soulless, empty
Used to feel so empty
Now the chips is stacking up, I need like every f**king penny
And everyone that’s with me
I used to feel alone, but I know my brother’s soul is with me
I know Oompa’s soul is with me

[Chorus]
Every day I keep it real and get that bag, ho
‘Cause that shit up for grabs, ho, put that on my tab, ho
Jimmy Neutron, I told that bitch to have a blast, ho
Yes, I’m a asshole, bitch, why you mad for?
They say that I’m mad dope
Ballin’ on a budget with my cousins moving mad dope
To eat and see that cash flow
Niggas always hating but ain’t got no f**king bag, bro
I just keep it pushing, I ain’t worried ’bout the mad folks

Kevin Gates – Adding Up Lyrics

[Intro]
My dog in this bitch (Luca Brasi)
My bad, dog (yeah)
Line ’em up, yeah (you know, man, I’m sorry)
Do it while I’m doin’ my verse, fuck it
Then after that, we can do it, you know what up
Huh, yeah, record all this, fuck

[Pre-Chorus]
Oh, he say he thuggin’, well, that shit ain’t addin’ up (shit ain’t addin’ up)
I’ma keep on flexin’ ’cause these niggas ain’t mad enough (I’m doin’ it)
Bitch, I’m never goin’ broke, shit, my money keed addin’ up
I’ma keep on thumbin’ through hundreds, I count money fast as fuck, uh

[Chorus]
One mil’, two mil’, uh, I’ma keep addin’ up
Three mil’, four mil’, uh, I’ma keep stackin’ up
Five mil’, six mil’, uh, I’ma keep addin’ up (add it up)
Seven mil’, eight mil’, uh, money keep addin’ up (add it up)

[Verse 1]
Aye, pressure my motive (motive), I’m thumbin’ through something, we blew out the motor
I jump in the bucket, dress up like a woman (come here bitch), I jump out and bust it in front of the Kroger
Tried to hold on to the holy approach, play for keeps, you gotta know it’s approachin’
Hit a sweep, took a lot of my homies, couldn’t sleep, Julio, he the closest
Brought the Range out, whippin’ the rover, puttin’ change out, nigga, you know it
Don’t change now, I’ma stay focused, just notice, but try not to notice
Big load, bring a pack to the show, we back now, bringin’ it back
Countin’ good, my [?] intact, I’m hood, I perfected a craft
This means I can see through the glass, SS with a digital dash
With a turbo, goin’ launch mode, doin’ circles, still hittin’ the gas
I signed for a brick and a half, touchdown to a milli in cash
I’m in the vet, I’m gettin’ neck from a giraffe and I pray to God we don’t crash
Yeah, oh

[Pre-Chorus]
Oh, he say he thuggin’, well, that shit ain’t addin’ up (shit ain’t addin’ up)
I’ma keep on flexin’ ’cause these niggas ain’t mad enough (they ain’t)
Bitch, I’m never goin’ broke, shit, my money keed addin’ up (Gates)
I’ma keep on thumbin’ through hundreds, I count money fast as fuck, uh (Gates)

[Chorus]
One mil’, two mil’, uh, I’ma keep addin’ up (Gates, Gates)
Three mil’, four mil’, uh, I’ma keep stackin’ up (add it up)
Five mil’, six mil’, uh, I’ma keep addin’ up (Gates, Gates)
Seven mil’, eight mil’, uh, money keep addin’ up (Gates, Gates)

[Verse 2]
Now we back talkin’, got out my feelings, chalk nine, engine got real symbols (do you, Gates)
Glock 9, throwin’ that in the blender, do I gotta mention I’m in the kitchen (I’m in this bitch)
Do I gotta mention, I don’t deliver, ex-girlfriend, I don’t remember (do you, Gates)
Ex-boyfriend, she don’t consider, Goddamn, hm, I get the picture
Vacuum seal one, lower the ticket, vacuum seal numb, I’m ’bout to kill it
Get mad, bitch niggas ability, drop racks, offender a cynic
‘Bout to sit down, talk with the city, free my big round, lower the sentence
Bigger bitch down, holdin’ her titties, meanwhile, while controllin’ the seating
Need help now, loan you a penny, stayed down, would’ve gave you a ticket
Big feet, bitch, why is you trippin’? Don’t get loud, talk with a whisper
When you see me, you know I be glistenin’, lil sneak peak, you know I be listenin’
Sound upset, why is you dissin’? I’ma tap something, make them come get you

[Pre-Chorus]
Oh, he say he thuggin’, well, that shit ain’t addin’ up (shit ain’t addin’ up)
I’ma keep on flexin’ ’cause these niggas ain’t mad enough (they ain’t mad)
Bitch, I’m never goin’ broke, shit, my money keed addin’ up (pew)
I’ma keep on thumbin’ through hundreds, I count money fast as fuck, uh

[Chorus]
One mil’, two mil’, uh, I’ma keep addin’ up (Gates, Gates)
Three mil’, four mil’, uh, I’ma keep stackin’ up (add it up)
Five mil’, six mil’, uh, I’ma keep addin’ up (add it up)
Seven mil’, eight mil’, uh, money keep addin’ up (add it up)

[Outro]
Say, Gates, what’s happenin’?
The fuck, dog, I mean, you love this nigga, dog?
I just keep addin’ up, dog, lemme show him
You know, I just keep addin’ up, you know what I’m sayin’
What up, lemme show him, I’m, huh, I’m him
Wassup?
Luca Brasi

mansionz – Gorgeous lyrics

[Chorus: blackbear]
Did you know you’re on fire?
Did you know that you’re beautiful?
Did you know you got me fucked up?
Did you know that you’re gorgeous?

[Verse 1: Mike Posner]
Alright, I can still remember how the weed smelled
When you were riding shotgun, no seat belt
Or the SS just taking hits
Sold that car and fucked up that relationship
I’ve built up my walls perhaps too tall
Got issues with trusting but that’s not all
Knots tied by fame and not easily undone
I fucked 200 women, said, “I love you” to one
She used to speak like she was reading a scene
And make love like she was a martyr
The only thing about flames that bright
Is they tend to make mine seem darker

[Chorus: blackbear]
Did you know you’re on fire?
Did you know that you’re beautiful?
Did you know you got me fucked up?
Did you know that you’re gorgeous?
Did you know that you’re
Did you know that you’re gorgeous?
Did you know that you’re
Did you know that you’re gorgeous?

[Verse 2: blackbear]
Yeah, yeah, in and out of love
On and off of drugs
I ask you where you’ve been
And you give me shoulder shrugs
Pink polka dot top from Saint Laurent
I bought you but you never wore it
And I don’t even send the text
I know you just ignore it
And I’m so high
Could be the drugs, could be the moment
But either way I can’t keep my eyes off of you

[Chorus: blackbear]
Did you know you’re on fire?
Did you know that you’re beautiful?
Did you know you got me fucked up?
Did you know that you’re gorgeous?
Did you know that you’re
Did you know that you’re gorgeous?
Did you know that you’re
Did you know that you’re gorgeous?

Travis Scott – Mamacita (feat. Rich Homie Quan & Young Thug) lyrics

[Intro: Travis Scott]
Mamacita, cita, cita
Mamacita, cita, cita

[Verse 1: Travis Scott]
This the last days to the rodeo, last night
Had me down in the back, comatose, don’t think
Sun shades and a pill gon’ help
Once I’m gone, can’t tame myself (myself, myself)
Mamacita, cita, cita
You know I really need yah, need yah, need yah right now
She get freaky when the light’s down
The shit’s crack, no way niggas could pipe down
With the head first, got her straight out of the night gown
Nothin’ like the light-skinned mamacitas in H-Town
They got them pornstar big booties
Let me film it, then shoot it
3-D money, no illusion
Depending if I’m feelin’ bougie
Might hit your line, bitch

[Hook: Rich Homie Quan + Travis Scott]
Had to cut my phone off, bitch got it vibratin’ on me like a beeper
Boy, I’m in Colorado, smokin’ California reefer
Hey, the bitch so bad, caught a ticket cause I really wanna meet her
And I ain’t kin to Wayne but that’s my mamacita
Mamacita, that’s my mama, mamacita
Mamacita, cita, cita
That’s my mama, mamacita, that’s my mama, mamacita
That’s my mama, mamacita, that’s my mama, mamacita
Mamacita, cita, cita
That my, that my, mamacita, that my, that my mamacita, that my

[Verse 2: Young Thug]
Mothafuckin girl
I love her, I’mma give her the world
Aye, fuck her, I wanna fuck her mother
Just might give her my little girl
No, no, I won’t let go, bro, bad ho
She look the best with a fro, natural nat-nat on go
Damn, Quan, turn on the stove, whip it ’til I have a stroke
I do not fuck with America, I get it straight off the boat
Oh, damn, the kush it never make me choke
Slow down, I’m speedin’ and I got a trunk full of wham
Damn, 25 thousand on an old school Cam
SS me, these bitches wan’ molest me
Damn, they’ll sex me, she a lesbi
She want chicken like sesame
And she tryin’ to undress me, test me
Give her hotel keys like Cassidy, you dig?

[Hook: Rich Homie Quan + Travis Scott]
Had to cut my phone off, bitch got it vibratin’ on me like a beeper
Boy, I’m in Colorado, smokin’ California reefer
Hey, the bitch so bad, caught a ticket cause I really wanna meet her
And I ain’t kin to Wayne but that’s my mamacita
Mamacita, that’s my mama, mamacita
Mamacita, cita, cita
That’s my mama, mamacita, that’s my mama, mamacita
That’s my mama, mamacita, that’s my mama, mamacita
Mamacita, cita, cita
That my, that my, mamacita, that my, that my mamacita, that my

[Verse 3: Rich Homie Quan]
Bad little college ho
That I got on the east skirts of Decatur
Best believe that she cover Rich Homie Quan like a blazer
I smoke a lot of weed, keep my music turned up, fuck my neighbors
I fuck a nigga bitch and turn her like a table
Ayy, I’m still practicin’ so you know I’m gettin’ greater
Ayy, still wearin’ long socks and shorts like Fabo
He was hatin’ at first, now he tryna make the payroll
Got a stupid bitch who do whatever I say so
Money on your head like a Jesus piece
Blunt, now I’m higher than Khalifa be
Bad bitch lookin’ like a Filipina
Ohh, you’re killin’ me, ohh, remember me
You, finna be, deceased if you keep callin’ me
Therefore I

[Hook: Rich Homie Quan + Travis Scott]
Had to cut my phone off, bitch got it vibratin’ on me like a beeper
Boy I’m in Colorado, smokin’ California reefer
Hey, the bitch so bad, caught a ticket cause I really wanna meet her
And I ain’t kin to Wayne but that’s my mamacita
Mamacita, that’s my mama, mamacita
Mamacita, cita, cita
That’s my mama, mamacita, that’s my mama, mamacita
That’s my mama, mamacita, that’s my mama, mamacita
Mamacita, cita, cita
That’s my mama, mamacita, that’s my mama, mamacita

T-Pain – Goal Line (feat. Blac Youngsta) (Uncensored)

[Intro: T-Pain & Blac Youngsta]
You Okay?
You got it? (Lil bitty bitch)
Need a pat on the back? (Whore)
You got it, she worked it out
Hey (stretch) ahh!
Aye aye aye aye
(Fuck Nigga)

[Hook: T-Pain & (Blac Youngsta)]
I’m at the goal line (Gang Gang)
I’m at the goal line (Gang Gang)
Shawty got gold pussy (I swear)
And I hit the goldmine slow down
I’m at the goal line (Fuck Nigga)
I’m at the goal line (Gang Gang)
Shawty got gold pussy
And I hit the goldmine slow down

[Verse 1: T-Pain]
I got the wraith sittin
I got your bae sittin
Four 12’s in the trunk
I got the base hittin
You tryna keep yo bae hittin (Lil Bitch)
Keep it tight like a waist trainer (Lil Whore)
All my niggas tote guns dont a (Gang)
All my niggas know your base ain’t a
Shit ain’t really safe ain’t a (Nah)
You don’t think we’ll catch a case ain’t a
All of my niggas got GPS all of my niggas show up at your place ain’t a
I move that weight like I’m weight gaining
I push that weight like I’m weight training
Hey I pull my trump card ima run the fuckin USA ain’t I
(aye aye)

[Hook: T-Pain & (Blac Youngsta)]
I’m at the goal line (Gang Gang)
I’m at the goal line (Lil Bitch)
Shawty got gold pussy (Whooo)
And I hit the goldmine slow down
I’m at the goal line
I’m at the goal line oh yeah
Shawty got gold pussy
And I hit the goldmine slow down

[Verse 2: Blac Youngsta]
These lil niggas fake ain’t it
I gotta steak on my plate ain’t it
Yall lil niggas tryna eat
We done already ate ain’t it
You a lil bit too late ain’t it move my momma out the hood she straight ain’t it
Pour up a four in my phantom
Pour another four thats a whole nother eight ain’t it
I’m at the goal line with a thick and red bitch and she won’t slow down
My bitch so fine she don’t let me fuck her friend cause that bitch low down
So I fuck that bitch anyway
I don’t love my bitch anyway
I be like "bitch get out my face" and that lil bitch always be in the way (Lil Bitch)
Cock block
Thot thot
La La
Gimme
Top top
Laptop
I don’t fuck my fans (whore)
I don’t wanna meet your fam (whore)
I don’t fuck with you lil bitch don’t you shake my hand (whore)
(Gang Gang)

[Hook: T-Pain & (Blac Youngsta)]
I’m at the goal line (Gang Gang)
I’m at the goal line (Gang Gang)
Shawty got gold pussy (I swear)
And I hit the goldmine slow down
I’m at the goal line (Fuck Nigga)
I’m at the goal line (Gang Gang)
Shawty got gold pussy
And I hit the goldmine slow down

[Verse 3: T-Pain]
I’m in that SS
My shit the best yes
I’m pushing 130 plus I’m riding dirty that shit like a stress test
After party go down to the mansion
We gone leave that bitch a mess yes
Booty and the beast I need two at least
Bitch be our guest yes
Lets just fuck in the better light
That’ll be hella right
Two chicks kissing in the bath tub now they mega tight
They was already friends
Now they better friends
Baby don’t hold back (Lil Bitch)
Baby just let her in (Lil Whore)
She bout to be bae ain’t a
Both of yall on the way ain’t a
All of my bitches got GPS all of my bitches show up at my place ain’t a
That dick make em feel like they weight training
I hit em with it and they can’t take it
You been fucking with them clown ass nigga baby come and get your face painted ain’t it
(aye aye aye aye)

[Hook: T-Pain & (Blac Youngsta)]
I’m at the goal line (Gang Gang)
I’m at the goal line (Gang Gang)
Shawty got gold pussy (I swear)
And I hit the goldmine slow down
I’m at the goal line (Fuck Nigga)
I’m at the goal line (Gang Gang)
Shawty got gold pussy
And I hit the goldmine slow down

T-Pain – Goal Line (feat. Blac Youngsta) (On TRL) (Live)

[Intro: T-Pain & Blac Youngsta]
You Okay?
You got it? (Lil bitty bitch)
Need a pat on the back? (Whore)
You got it, she worked it out
Hey (stretch) ahh!
Aye aye aye aye
(Fuck Nigga)

[Hook: T-Pain & (Blac Youngsta)]
I’m at the goal line (Gang Gang)
I’m at the goal line (Gang Gang)
Shawty got gold pussy (I swear)
And I hit the goldmine slow down
I’m at the goal line (Fuck Nigga)
I’m at the goal line (Gang Gang)
Shawty got gold pussy
And I hit the goldmine slow down

[Verse 1: T-Pain]
I got the wraith sittin
I got your bae sittin
Four 12’s in the trunk
I got the base hittin
You tryna keep yo bae hittin (Lil Bitch)
Keep it tight like a waist trainer (Lil Whore)
All my niggas tote guns dont a (Gang)
All my niggas know your base ain’t a
Shit ain’t really safe ain’t a (Nah)
You don’t think we’ll catch a case ain’t a
All of my niggas got GPS all of my niggas show up at your place ain’t a
I move that weight like I’m weight gaining
I push that weight like I’m weight training
Hey I pull my trump card ima run the fuckin USA ain’t I
(aye aye)

[Hook: T-Pain & (Blac Youngsta)]
I’m at the goal line (Gang Gang)
I’m at the goal line (Lil Bitch)
Shawty got gold pussy (Whooo)
And I hit the goldmine slow down
I’m at the goal line
I’m at the goal line oh yeah
Shawty got gold pussy
And I hit the goldmine slow down

[Verse 2: Blac Youngsta]
These lil niggas fake ain’t it
I gotta steak on my plate ain’t it
Yall lil niggas tryna eat
We done already ate ain’t it
You a lil bit too late ain’t it move my momma out the hood she straight ain’t it
Pour up a four in my phantom
Pour another four thats a whole nother eight ain’t it
I’m at the goal line with a thick and red bitch and she won’t slow down
My bitch so fine she don’t let me fuck her friend cause that bitch low down
So I fuck that bitch anyway
I don’t love my bitch anyway
I be like "bitch get out my face" and that lil bitch always be in the way (Lil Bitch)
Cock block
Thot thot
La La
Gimme
Top top
Laptop
I don’t fuck my fans (whore)
I don’t wanna meet your fam (whore)
I don’t fuck with you lil bitch don’t you shake my hand (whore)
(Gang Gang)

[Hook: T-Pain & (Blac Youngsta)]
I’m at the goal line (Gang Gang)
I’m at the goal line (Gang Gang)
Shawty got gold pussy (I swear)
And I hit the goldmine slow down
I’m at the goal line (Fuck Nigga)
I’m at the goal line (Gang Gang)
Shawty got gold pussy
And I hit the goldmine slow down

[Verse 3: T-Pain]
I’m in that SS
My shit the best yes
I’m pushing 130 plus I’m riding dirty that shit like a stress test
After party go down to the mansion
We gone leave that bitch a mess yes
Booty and the beast I need two at least
Bitch be our guest yes
Lets just fuck in the better light
That’ll be hella right
Two chicks kissing in the bath tub now they mega tight
They was already friends
Now they better friends
Baby don’t hold back (Lil Bitch)
Baby just let her in (Lil Whore)
She bout to be bae ain’t a
Both of yall on the way ain’t a
All of my bitches got GPS all of my bitches show up at my place ain’t a
That dick make em feel like they weight training
I hit em with it and they can’t take it
You been fucking with them clown ass nigga baby come and get your face painted ain’t it
(aye aye aye aye)

[Hook: T-Pain & (Blac Youngsta)]
I’m at the goal line (Gang Gang)
I’m at the goal line (Gang Gang)
Shawty got gold pussy (I swear)
And I hit the goldmine slow down
I’m at the goal line (Fuck Nigga)
I’m at the goal line (Gang Gang)
Shawty got gold pussy
And I hit the goldmine slow down

T-Pain & Lil Wayne – Heavy Chevy (T-Wayne Album)

[Intro: T-Pain & Lil Wayne]
What up, bruh?
What up?
So, y’know, I was thinkin’, right?
Y’know, since we doin’ the "He Rap He Sang" album, I figured
That you from N-O, right?
Mhm, mhm
Right, right, and I’m from Florida
Tallahassee?
Right, so I got a couple things to, like, teach you
Okay
That you probably need to know about
Since you came to Miami now
I did
And you know what I’m sayin’
You pretty much a certified Florida boy
Woo!
So is it cool if, like, I just teach you a couple things you need to know?
It’s not much, all you gotta do is sit back, relax, take it in, you ready?
No worries, no homo
Alright, let’s go

[Chorus]
Heavy Chevys, heavy, heavy Chevys, man (Bitch)
Why are these streets nothin’ but heavy Chevys, man? (Bitch)
Heavy Chevys, heavy, h-heavy Chevys, man
Yeah, I like this, a’ight big bruh, fall it out
Big, big paper, we ain’t fuckin’ with no petty change
Heavy Chevys, heavy, heavy Chevys, man
I see you, I think I got this one, I think I got it
Why are these streets nothin’ but heavy Chevys, man?
Y’know, I was talkin’ ’bout, like, Trick Daddy
And y’know, the real Dunk Ryders
Heavy Chevys (Alright), heavy, h-heavy Chevys, man
Let’s see what I got (T-Double)
Big, big paper, we ain’t fuckin’ with no petty change
(Tha Bizness)

[Verse 1: T-Pain]
So let’s start with the
’72 Chevelle, I know that well
‘Cause everybody try to buy that bitch from me
But I will never sell, hell
Mids and highs and 4-12s
24 inches, chopped seats, complete with the Pirells
Inside got baby blue ‘gator scales
Even on the bottom of the seat, you can see the ‘gator tail
My shit hard as a turtle shell
Plus I got a mothafuckin’ motor that’ll make them tires yell
When I was 11, dawg, I learned ’bout my Chevy, dawg
I burned the Pirellis off, convertible, take it off
Believe my leather stayin’ soft
That’s why I’m at the start line, ’bout to take it off

[Chorus]
Heavy Chevys, heavy, heavy Chevys, man
A’ight, see? (I see) You gotta learn, big bruh (I see, I see)
Why are these streets nothin’ but heavy Chevys, man?
Heavy Chevys, heavy, h-heavy Chevys, man
Now, I kinda want you to come back and tell me what you learned from my lesson (Okay) Y’know what I’m sayin’?
Big, big paper, we ain’t fuckin’ with no petty change
Mhm, I’ma finish hittin’ the weed first
Heavy Chevys, heavy, heavy Chevys, man
Right, right (Can I hit that bitch one more time, please?)
Why are these streets nothin’ but heavy Chevys, man?
Oh, but of course, but of course
Heavy Chevys, heavy, h-heavy Chevys, man
But still, I need to know that you know that I know that you know (Okay)
Big, big paper, we ain’t fuckin’ with no petty change
Let me get somethin’

[Verse 2: Lil Wayne]
Well, I went and got that new Chevy truck
The one without the little man step
And I love that bitch so much, tomorrow I’ma wear the fan belt
Speakers in the bed sound like I got band help
Beatin’ down yo’ block, leave you with a damn welt
I used to have a ’64 a few years ago
I had that bitch on three wheels on one of my old videos
Now I got a honey SS, I call it Cheerio
But my neighbors call it "Please turn down the stereo!"
Now cut that hoe up louder
24 karat gold pipes on the low Impala
See Pain, I knew a lil somethin’, but thanks for the lesson
As a matter of fact, y’know what? I’ma buy you a Chevy

[Chorus]
Heavy Chevys, heavy, h-heavy Chevys, man
Why are these streets nothin’ but heavy Chevys, man?
Heavy Chevys, heavy, h-heavy Chevys, man
See, see Pain I ain’t gon’ lie, when I got to Florida
Big, big paper, we ain’t fuckin’ with no petty change
I haven’t saw that many Chevys in my life
Heavy Chevys, heavy, heavy Chevys, man
I meant to say "seen," but um
Why are these streets nothin’ but heavy Chevys, man?
In the spirit of Chevys
Heavy Chevys, heavy, h-heavy Chevys, man
I’ma switch to T-Wayne and take it back

[Outro: Lil Wayne]
I said, a long, long time ago
I can still remember how that music used to make me smile
And I knew if I had my chance, I could make the people dance
And maybe they’d be happy for a while
Oh, but February made me shiver with every paper I deliver
Bad news on the doorstep
I couldn’t take one more step
I can’t remember if I cried when I read about his widowed bride
But somethin’ touched me deep inside the day the music died
So bye-bye Ms. American Pie
Drove my Chevy to the levee but the levee was dry
And them good ol’ boys was drinkin’ whiskey and rye
Singin’ this’ll be the day that I die, day that I die

Nelly – E. I. (The Tipdrill) (feat. St Lunatics) (Uncensored)

Uh.. uh uh uh uh
Uh.. wait a minute now
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
Uh, uh..
Can you hear me out there?
Lunatics.. is y’all ready?
Let me hear ya
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh!

I’ma sucka for corn rows and manicured toes (hey)
Fendi capri pants and Parasuco’s (alright)
Passadity ?? city, with one or two throws
I’m droppin ’em outta high school straight into the pros
Who knows? I know!
And I love it when you make your knees touch your elbows
And break it down low to the flo’, and there you go
Now throw it on me slow
And everytime I Bust a rhyme, baby "Gimme Some Mo’"
You say you like that, when I hit it from behind
And I’ll be right back; yeah that’s my very next line
I use it – time after time, when I’m speakin my mind
It’s no matter if I’m shootin game to a pigeon or dime
I ask her, "Who dat is, talkin that shit about the ‘tics?"
Somebody probably jealous cause they bitch got hit
But ain’t nobody else droppin shit like this
Should we apologize? Nah fuck ’em, just leave ’em pissed, HEY!

Andele andele mami, E.I. E.I
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh! What’s poppin’ tonight?
Andele andele mami, E.I. E.I
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh! If the head right, Nelly there ery’night

Andele andele mami, E.I. E.I
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh! What’s poppin’ tonight?
Andele andele mami, E.I. E.I
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh! If the head right, Nelly there ery’night

We can gamble to the break of dawn, nigga
Money long, nigga
Pass up the skirt to talk to the thong, nigga
Some say I’m wrong, but fuck it I’m grown, nigga
If you ain’t bout money then best be gone, nigga
I’m fast (uh) double takes when you walk past me
Nasty, don’t be scared boo, go ‘head and ask me
I drive fastly, call me Jeff Gord-on
In the black SS with the naviga-tion
See the joint blaz-on, somethin smells amaz-on
I got a chick rollin up, half black and asi-an
Another one pidge-on, tellin me to come home
Her husband on vacation and left her home alone
I used the V-12, powers; weight loss, powers
From +Phat Farm+ to +Iceberg Slim+ in one shower
Get a room in Trump Towers just to hit the P hours
Kicked the bitch up out the room cause she used the word ours, HEY!

Andele andele mami, E.I. E.I
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh! What’s poppin’ tonight?
Andele andele mami, E.I. E.I
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh! If the head right, Nelly there ery’night

Aiyyo I smash-mouth a whole ounce, of that sticky
Wash my hands under a gold spout, when feelin icky
Let go off in a ho’s mouth, I ain’t picky
Start frontin when the shows out – whatchu mean?!
Twenty inches when they roll ouuuuuuut – come and get me
Big faces when they fold ouuuuuuut – is you wit me?
Don’t make me pull that fo’-fo’ ouuuuuuut
I keep it closer when the dough ouuuuuuut
Then I slide up in the Escalade
Me and E gettin solid like the Ice Capades
And me and Heezy – frosty, project mo’ wrapped up than Bugsy
You understand me, wrapped wrists like mummies
If you compare me to your local grocery
Then you’ll see I got more carrots/karats than "Aisle D"
More bread than "Aisle G", then bag and scan me
+Sure+ like +Al B.+, meet the ‘tics in Maui, HEY!

Andele andele mami, E.I. E.I
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh! What’s fuckin’ tonight?
Andele andele mami, E.I. E.I
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh! If the head right, Nelly there ery’night

St. Louis y’all, uh, uh
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
Uh, can you feel that?
Lunatics y’all, uh, uh
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
Uh, uh, Uncle Phil up above y’all, uh, uh
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
Yell it universal y’all, uh, uh
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh!
Uh, uh, chillin chillin chillin with the crew y’all

Andele andele mami, E.I. E.I
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh! What’s poppin’ tonight?
Andele andele mami, E.I. E.I
Uh-ohhhhhhhhhhhhhh! If the head right, Nelly there ery’night