Tag: Ruth Chris

Blacc Zacc – Hahaha Lyrics (feat. Key Glock)

Lyrics•by Azlyrics•Posted February 17, 2020•0 Comment(s)

[Intro: Blacc Zacc]
I might buy a Rolls truck and pass on a Bentley
For my pretty bitches
Hold up, wait
Hold up, wait
Hold up, wait
I ain’t motherf**kin’ finished
IMixNation for real

[Chorus: Blacc Zacc]
Hold up, wait one motherf**kin’ minute, I ain’t finished
I might buy a Rolls truck and pass on a Bentley
I might buy some blue flowers for my red bitches
Heard a hater say I was broke, I started trippin’
Hahaha (Hahaha), hahaha (Hahaha)
When a nigga say I’m broke, I laugh like hahaha (Hahaha)
Hahaha (Hahaha), hahaha (Hahaha)
Count the racks up out the safe like hahaha (The f**k?)

[Verse 1: Blacc Zacc]
Hahaha
I done came far, haha
I got pretty foreign bitches in my car, haha
f**k that, let me turn it up
Ain’t no bitch that I can’t f**k
They like, ‘Blacc, you dope as f**k’
I ain’t never lettin’ up, yeah
Codiene in my cup
Swear I tried to give it up
Like I tried to leave these streets
But these bands keep poppin’ up
Why these niggas envy me?
‘Cause they really wanna be like us
Told my bitch come eat this meat
Then I take her out for lunch
Hold up, wait one motherf**kin’ minute, I ain’t finished
I’ma cook that dope up like a nigga work at Denny’s
I’ma cook that dope up like the chef in Ruth Chris kitchen
Heard a hater say I fell off, I started trippin’

[Chorus: Blacc Zacc]
Hold up, wait one motherf**kin’ minute, I ain’t finished
I might buy a Rolls truck and pass on a Bentley
I might buy some blue flowers for my red bitches
Heard a hater say I was broke, I started trippin’
Hahaha (Hahaha), hahaha (Hahaha)
When a nigga say I’m broke, I laugh like hahaha (Hahaha)
Hahaha (Hahaha), hahaha (Hahaha)
Count the racks up out the safe like hahaha (The f**k?)

[Verse 2: Key Glock]
Hah, hah, hah, uh, hah, hah, hah
Yeah, these niggas mad ’cause I’m getting guap guap guap, uh
New drop top, uh, autobot, yeah
Kids be like, “Look ma, there go Glock”
In his camouflage car, sippin’ on some Wock’, ooh
Carats on my arm, uh, what’s up, doc?
Might pull up wit a pump and make your bunny hop
I’m on a paper route, bitch, you know I can’t stop, uh
Stop getting knots, not stop getting guap, uh
Thots on my jock and I can’t keep ’em off, yeah
Cost to be the boss and you niggas broke and lost
If I see something, I get it, don’t care about the cost

[Chorus: Blacc Zacc]
Hold up, wait one motherf**kin’ minute, I ain’t finished
I might buy a Rolls truck and pass on a Bentley
I might buy some blue flowers for my red bitches
Heard a hater say I was broke, I started trippin’
Hahaha (Hahaha), hahaha (Hahaha)
When a nigga say I’m broke, I laugh like hahaha (Hahaha)
Hahaha (Hahaha), hahaha (Hahaha)
Count the racks up out the safe like hahaha (The f**k?)

Quilly – Who Gon Stop Us Lyrics (feat. Pnb Rock)

Lyrics•by Azlyrics•Posted February 8, 2020•0 Comment(s)

[Intro: Quilly]
Feel good, don’t nobody touch the heat either

[Verse 1: Quilly]
When it really come down to it
You don’t really wanna go through it
I’ll put a check on your head, I’ll tell my shooter “just do it”
You don’t wanna beef; 5 Guys
Put some Chicken on your head; Popeyes
What’s a walk down to a drive by?
Put the pound to you; no high five
On your roof like satellite WIFI
Have niggas’ sleepin’ on your crib nigga
Lawyer paid off, I’ma beat the case
Hungry lil’ nigga that’ll eat the plate
Ruth Chris, boy, you’re lookin’ like Steak
Shooters on go, never heard of breaks
Whats attempt murder to a murder case?
All my niggas’ boosting up the murder rate
My youngins’ don’t read or write, but they squeeze on sight
For that cheese, alright?
Got a fiend, all white, bring me green all night
Got a fiend, all black, on the first, get a stack
If we go to court, you’re the first one to rat
MAC wit the ladder, be the first one to clap
Street credit good, nigga, you can check the stat
Paperwork clean, I was never into that
And, you was never into this, hatin’ ass niggas
Said I never would be rich
“Talk about the pain”, hold up, let me reminisce
How I owe you? You ain’t never give me shit
Now I’m makin’ all hits; won’t miss
Now, I got a full stomach, full clip
Michael Jordan on the mic; no bullshit
Hope you never forget, I will never forfeit
Gold on the grill but the (?)
This the type of flow to put the house on the hill
Live by the street rule; kill or be killed
I’ma get it in, Inshallah; Lord will
Know a couple hood niggas’ that’ll ride for me
Uptown niggas’, put you in the sky for me
Got that 57 sittin’ on the side of me
And, I would never sing, quiet as a Library
No stop signs, all green lights, tuck a nigga in, help him sleep tight
I remember times, I ain’t eat nights, sleep nights
You don’t know about this street life

[Chorus: PNB Rock] (2x)
All of my niggas, we came from the bottom
Don’t play wit my niggas, we play wit them choppers
100 in the drum, bitch, you better run
We ain’t gotta aim, cock it, and, we spray
Take your life away, who gonna stop us?

Mobytherapper – Check Up On My Feet Lyrics (feat. Dequantis)

Lyrics•by Azlyrics•Posted January 27, 2020•0 Comment(s)

[Verse 1: MobyTheRapper]
Got me a genie so I’m rubbing the bottle
Bread fashion, call me a role model
Took a chance like the rapper, rolling dice
Said I had the right click like computer mice
Grew up stone cold, like Steve Austin
I know you see me, out here bossin’
Got it drippin, like a faucet
There’s nothing you can do to stop it
Like Huey they pop lock and drop it
Name fresh in ya breath like a mint
I’m a bird and a plane, Clark Kent
Pray for y’all I don’t even go to church
Cross you out like a word search
They wanna say if the shoe fits
Get another steak at the Ruth Chris

[Hook: MobyTheRapper]
Flexing in my nikes, got a check up on my feet
People hated me but now they feel my energy
Flexing in my nikes, got a check up on my feet
People hated me but now they feel my energy
Flexing in my nikes, got a check up on my feet
People hated me but now they feel my energy
Flexing in my nikes, got a check up on my feet
People hated me but now they feel my energy

[Verse 2: Dequantis]
I was talking to this girl, then I had to leave her
I had to cut ties, Brad and Angelina
It’s a Nike check up all up on my sneakers
I just be getting my checkers, uh, no I’m joking
These haters man I don’t really know what they smokin
I collect my cake like a bakery
I’m just out here stuntin’ ain’t it plain to see
I’m just tryna meet Alexander McQueen

[Hook: MobyTheRapper]
Flexing in my nikes, got a check up on my feet
People hated me but now they feel my energy
Flexing in my nikes, got a check up on my feet
People hated me but now they feel my energy
Flexing in my nikes, got a check up on my feet
People hated me but now they feel my energy
Flexing in my nikes, got a check up on my feet
People hated me but now they feel my energy

Kanye West – New Bødy Lyrics

Lyrics•by Azlyrics•Posted July 14, 2019•0 Comment(s)

Play this song

[Intro]
Oh my God, Ronny!

[Chorus: Ty Dolla $ign & Kanye West]
Can’t  wait to see your new body
Don’t  be actin’ like you don’t know nobody
No body count on your new body
I’ll be the first one to hit your new body
Oh,  whoa

[Verse 1: Kanye West]
New  ass, new tits, new bitch, who this?
Who else you know this bad, with two kids?
Nobody,  ever, ever gave you shit
Nobody flew to Columbia like you did
Tryin’ the new ass out with the new drip
Only thing to ask, who first to hit?
‘Cause  far as you concerned, you is a new bitch
Them all, fuck them all, them niggas, they too rich
Old dick don’t count, if these titties don’t bounce
Ex niggas say they hit, tryna run up your account
Big dump on it now… Summer they were down
But they better act like they know who the fuck you now
This a new bitch
Gotta party table at the Ruth Chris
All bad bitches take a group pick
Had to step back ’cause she too thick
You used to twerk to every-every song
Saved up to buy an ass of your very-very own
FaceTime, body look like Dom Pérignon
Don’t pay me no attention, go on, carry on

[Chorus: Ty Dolla $ign & Kanye West]
Can’t wait to see your new body
Don’t be actin’ like you don’t know nobody
No body count on your new body
I’ll be the first one to hit your new body
Oh, whoa

[Verse 2: Nicki Minaj]
You ain’t fuck me, you fucked the old body
You ain’t fuck Nicki, you fucked Nicole body
Ain’t no miles on this here new body
Off with they heads, these bitches is nobodies
Got-Got me a new body, now I need some new dick
Don’t let the woood, tryna stick me like a toothpick
Got me a new body, now I need some new dick
I bust shots, don’t duck, unless the shoe fit
Cookie game make me the G.O.A.T
Cookie game come with the throat
Puff puff pass, no you do not want the smoke
Bi-bi-bitches be sleepin’ on me, but be claimin’ they woke
Fuck up a check on my body
Then let him lick on my body, out in Abu Dhabi
You see me shinin’, you pissed
I-I-I think my haters just really be wantin’ a kiss
They know I’ll body you, sis (body, body)
Old nigga hit me and I say, “new body, who this?”
(Old nigga hit me and I say, “new body, who this?”)

[Chorus: Ty Dolla $ign & Kanye West]
Can’t wait to see your new body
Don’t be actin’ like you don’t know nobody
No body count on your new body
I’ll be the first one to hit your new body
Oh, whoa

[Verse 3: Ty Dolla $ign]
New body, you been workin’ hard
I’ve been on your IG page, lurkin’ hard
New boobie job, now they perfect
Six weeks off, it was worth it
Baby got that nip tuck, let me titty fuck
Hit her from the back, get my dick sucked
Put me on the scoreboard, make a new one
He said he hit before, not since you got your boobs done
You working on your abs, huh, you got your ass done
You better show it off, you better work it
Why they body shamin’, baby? I commend it
Doctor Ghavami, I recommend it

[Chorus: Ty Dolla $ign & Kanye West]
Can’t wait to see your new body
Don’t be actin’ like you don’t know nobody
No body count on your new body
I’ll be the first one to hit your new body
Oh, woah

DJ Khaled – Wish Wish Lyrics

Lyrics•by Azlyrics•Posted May 17, 2019•0 Comment(s)

Play this song

[Intro: Cardi B, DJ Khaled & Lil’ Juice]
(Tay Keith, fuck these niggas up)
Cardi, Cardi bops
Cardi, Cardi sendin’ shots
We The Best music
Cardi, from the block
Cardi, with the Glock
Cardi, yeah
Cardi, yeah
Another one
Cardi, yeah, yeah, yeah
DJ Khaled

[Chorus: Cardi B]
They say my time is almost up, tell them bitches, “Wish, wish”
All these hoes lookin’ cold, all these bitches fish sticks
Put a ribbon on my box ’cause this pussy gifted
I ain’t got no free time, all my shit expensive
See my ring, my watch, my chain and everything is lit, lit (Ice)
All this gold on a bitch, I feel like I’m Slick Rick
If they love me or they hate me, it don’t make no difference (Cardi)
It be hard not to kill a ho ’cause I be tempted

[Verse 1: Cardi B]
Now I be countin’ money, buyin’ jewelry, hoes be ridin’ dick (Dick)
I just make my M’s and mind my business, hoes be ridin’ dick (Dick)
“I can see Cardi eat so much,” and that’s what got ’em sick
But I wonder how they still ain’t pregnant, all that riding dick
Y’all betta go ahead with that weak shit, I’m certified, real street bitch
Won’t be a song if I leak shit, we strapped up like defense
Whatever you do, sis, keep it cute, sis
Leave that beefin’ shit at Ruth Chris or end up toothless
I’ve been official my whole life, I bought burners, I ain’t buy likes (Brr)
How did little ol’ me get money? Got everybody all tight
These bitches wack, these bitches garb (Garb), they diss me, I disregard
Bet you if I had a dick, these bitches couldn’t get it hard

[Chorus: Cardi B]
They say my time is almost up, tell them bitches, “Wish, wish” (Wish)
All these hoes lookin’ cold, all these bitches fish sticks
Put a ribbon on my box ’cause this pussy gifted
I ain’t got no free time, all my shit expensive
See my ring, my watch, my chain and everything is lit, lit (Ice)
All this gold on a bitch, I feel like I’m Slick Rick
If they love me or they hate me, it don’t make no difference (Cardi)
It be hard not to kill a ho ’cause I be tempted (Blaow)

[Verse 2: 21 Savage]
Bought a Richard Mille, coulda bought me a house (No joke)
Feel like I’m the greatest rapper came out the South (Who want smoke?)
She keep tryin’ to fuck, I told her top me for now (On God)
She got ass shots, told her work on her mouth (Straight up)
Everybody talkin’ this king talk, nigga we shootin’ shit up, we don’t battle (Bitch)
Cornball nigga, you ain’t gettin’ no money and we don’t give a fuck about your talents (Snitch)
Came from the bottom, I’m a multimillionaire, I was just sleeping on pallets (21)
Fuck these rappers, I’m 4L gang, we the best like DJ Khaled (Straight up)
Your bitch got that crazy head like a Kanye tweet (21)
Had a wedding for my Glocks, call ’em Jay and Bey (21)
I split the rent with my chopper ’cause it stay with me (On God)
Leave you drunk like a shot of liquor, ain’t no chasin’ me (On God)
He threw in a white flag, but I still want beef (Stupid)
Catch you at your album release you play with Cardi B (Shoot it)
Make this pistol blow both ways, I call it Hennessy (Pow!)
I know your mama taught you look both ways ‘fore crossing me (Lil’ bitch)

[Chorus: Cardi B]
They say my time is almost up, tell them bitches, “Wish, wish”
All these hoes lookin’ cold, all these bitches fish sticks
Put a ribbon on my box ’cause this pussy gifted
I ain’t got no free time, all my shit expensive
See my ring, my watch, my chain and everything is lit, lit (Ice)
All this gold on a bitch, I feel like I’m Slick Rick
If they love me or they hate me, it don’t make no difference (Cardi)
It be hard not to kill a ho ’cause I be tempted (Blaow)

[Outro]
We The Best music
(What’s that on your wrist?)
(I call it a chandelier)
Another one

Nino Man – Get It Straight

Lyrics•by Azlyrics•Posted January 16, 2018•0 Comment(s)

[Verse 1]
Uh
Let’s get it straight, I’m the hottest nigga in the states
Never heard of me, I guess you late
You know you doing good when these niggas hate
Yeah, they ain’t care what a nigga ate
Now it’s Ruth Chris on my dinner plate
Yeah I get money with the bigger face
After my first hundred thou, had to get it safe
Yeah, I kept money in the closet
Stacked up everything that I deposit
Pieces hitting, ya’ll should be declining
I only made it out because I tried shit
No way in hell ya’ll could be up
The money that ya’ll showing it’s just reup
It’s slow for ya’ll niggas, better speed up
I’m in the hood, daddy chilling with my feet up

[Hook]
We got them choppas, we got automatics
We carry ourselves like we ready for war
No applications, it’s heavy rotations
From selling these drugs all in front of the store
When they see you winning
They want you to slip
But I couldn’t fall off if I fell on the floor
They was ignoring, now bitches is calling
When they see you balling, it is easy to score
Fuck with your ball

[Verse 2]
I’m on my shit, stop hating get off my dick
Yeah, I was looking for a son shit
Phone clicking I was fliping like a sidekick
Yeah, I be flipping like a side bitch
When she slipping through your phone and she find shit
Yeah, I go hard so my mind tense
Shit ain’t adding up for you then it’s nonsense
Yeah, can’t let the days go by nigga
Since I was young I always wanted to be a fly nigga
Going dumb with the gang like [?] nigga
You got to remain the same to stay mine nigga
Yeah, they switch too much, they bitch too much
Parents prolly spoil, that means you use to get too much
So when shit don’t go their way they catch a fit too much
Find him a band he rips too much
From Nino bitch

[Hook]
We got them choppas, we got automatics
We carry ourselves like we ready for war
No applications, it’s heavy rotations
From selling these drugs all in front of the store
When they see you winning
They want you to slip
But I couldn’t fall off if I fell on the floor
They was ignoring, now bitches is calling
When they see you balling, it is easy to score
Fuck with your boy

21 Savage – Flexin’ [Snippet] Lyrics

Lyrics•by Azlyrics•Posted December 30, 2017•0 Comment(s)

[Verse 1]
Jumped out the Porsche, got to it
Choppa on me, bitch I shoot like I’m Cupid
Model bitch, and she gon’ blow me like hookah
All these diamonds, bitch I look like a jeweler
Rollie froze, bitch it came out the cooler
Tech 9, bitch it came with a cooler
I got shooters that’ll shoot at your shooter
Bitch you broke, you eatin’ noodles and oodles
I got a bad bitch, workin’ Hooters
Bitch I get the check, and you know I blew it
21 gang, chain hangin’, blangin’
Jewish lawyers, give a fuck about that rangin’
Seinfeld, niggas frontin’ like Kramer
Put you on the news, you wanna be famous
Zero six, bitch you know that I claimed it
I jumped out the Porsche and broke my ankle
I’m [?] the bud when I cook it up
Your main bitch want me to pick her up
I nut in her face, she gon’ lick it up
Your jewelry shinin’? We gon’ stick you up
Like 2Pac, nigga, hit ’em up
These niggas tough on the Internet
Gettin’ that pussy, I’m killin’ that
I’m not just a rapper, I’m livin’ that

[Verse 2]
Shawty said she want that dick, I told that bitch to wait one minute
These niggas broke, I heard these niggas shoppin’ J.C. Penny
I took that bitch to Ruth Chris, I heard a nigga eats at Wendy’s
I’m a real nigga, I can’t wear no gold unless they came from the [?]
[cont.]

Dae Dae – New Wave

Lyrics•by Azlyrics•Posted July 8, 2017•0 Comment(s)

[Intro]
Boy they already know what it is when I talk this shit here
Dae Dae let’s go and give it to ’em boy
Let’s go’n get ’em out the way, it’s a new wave nigga

[Verse 1]
Neck piece too lit, this bitch too lit
AP two bricks, bad bitch too thick
Fashion, oohwee, backend, oohwee
Kardashian, two piece, MAC or that Uzi
Trappin’ by pool creek, action when it’s ’bout me
They say you not the man in the streets
I’m flashy, now you got with the key
I crashed it, now I’m in that new straight A Jeep
It’s happenin’, they finally freed my fuckin’ brother D
Don’t panic, man time to turn up on them beats
I’m dangerous, oh you actin’ hard? nigga please
Gang with me, and we in the club one hundred deep nigga

[Chorus]
This bitch too lit, thug bitch, Ruth Chris
Dark bitch, dark shades, dark pay, okay
Red bitch, Charday, red bottoms, two K
Yachtmaster forty K, Atlanta new wave
This bitch too lit, thug bitch, Ruth Chris
Dark bitch, dark shades, dark pay, okay
Red bitch, Charday, red bottoms, two K
Yachtmaster forty K, Atlanta new wave

[Verse 2]
Atlanta new wave, I got Bluray, woo
Still in the burbs, bitch I’m too paid
The Forgis make me swerve when I’m cruisin’
I know I make ’em nervous how I do this shit nigga
Pop the donk on Irving, leave the keys in the ignition
And I’m shooting like Curry nigga, try me I’ma swish it
My big chain nervous, I got racks and I got glizzy
In that blue excursion, I’m in traffic sitting on inches
I might go to Follies, go to Flame and throw a twenty
I might take her shopping buy her that but ain’t no feeling
She still go to college but her daddy don’t be tripping
And I’m with my partners, time to turn up with my niggas

[Chorus]
This bitch too lit, thug bitch, Ruth Chris
Dark bitch, dark shades, dark pay, okay
Red bitch, Charday, red bottoms, two K
Yachtmaster forty K, Atlanta new wave
This bitch too lit, thug bitch, Ruth Chris
Dark bitch, dark shades, dark pay, okay
Red bitch, Charday, red bottoms, two K
Yachtmaster forty K, Atlanta new wave

[Verse 3]
It’s the new wave, I got blue rays
Might pull out the garage in the new Wraith
Fuck ’em if they hatin’, bitch I’m too paid
I’m clutchin’ ’cause they hatin’ but it’s cool, hate
My bitch too lit, your bitch my bitch
Big rim, big crib, four-fifth, right here
I won’t let you try me ever ever again
This lil bitch want molly, she want percs and shit (molly percocets)
You know it ain’t no problem, we gon’ work the shit
Order up them bottles, Dae Dae got this bitch lit
And we want them hoes that bring all her friends
We got this bitch loaded, go’n and turn up, yeah

[Chorus]
This bitch too lit, thug bitch, Ruth Chris
Dark bitch, dark shades, dark pay, okay
Red bitch, Charday, red bottoms, two K
Yachtmaster forty K, Atlanta new wave
This bitch too lit, thug bitch, Ruth Chris
Dark bitch, dark shades, dark pay, okay
Red bitch, Charday, red bottoms, two K
Yachtmaster forty K, Atlanta new wave

Peek a boo – Lil Yachty feat. Migos lyrics

Lyrics•by Azlyrics•Posted April 15, 2017•0 Comment(s)

Lyrics Lil Yachty – Peek a boo

Ricky Racks
Peek a boo, woo!
Peek-a-boooo.

Uh, uh, play with that pus*y like peek-a-boo, uhhh
Play with that pus*y like peek-a-boo, uh
Play with that pus*y like peek-a-boo, uh
Play with that pus*y like peek-a-boo, uh
Play with that money like peek-a-boo, ooh
Play with these b*tches like peek-a-boo, uh
Broke a*s b*tch a*s nigga
I’m not finna’ play with you, that’s what these rappers do
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, b*tch
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo
Peek-a-boo, b*tch versuri-lyrics.info
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, b*tch
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, nigga
Lil Boat
I’m not finna’ play with you, that’s what these rappers do.

Red dot, red dot, red dot, red dot, red dot
On his nose like Rudolph
Pull up to the scene, all white with the roof off
Take that lil’ b*tch to the Ruth Chris
f*ck her, then f*ck on her sister, I’m ruthless
Chill on the 6 when I’m f*ckin’ on poochie
That b*tch was ugly, but pus*y on smoothie (wet)
Play with that kitty like hello
Took a step back then I bust it, I bust it, I bust it like Melo
Aiming at you and your fellows
My new b*tch yellow
She blow that d*ck like a cello
f*ck her then send that b*tch home on the metro
Oohhhh, young nigga fly like a pigeon
Versace frames, they be hidin’ my vision
Make sure all my niggas eat, that’s the mission
Emotion, I’ma go get it, go get it, I got it.

Uh, uh, play with that pus*y like peek-a-boo, uh
Play with that pus*y like peek a boo, uh
Play with that pus*y like peek-a-boo, uh
Play with that pus*y like peek-a-boo, uh
Play with that money like peek-a-boo, ooh
Play with these b*tches like peek-a-boo, uh
Broke a*s b*tch a*s nigga
I’m not finna’ play with you, that’s what these rappers do
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, b*tch
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo
Peek-a-boo, b*tch
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, b*tch
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, nigga
I’m not finna’ play with you, that’s what these rappers do.

Open your eyes, b*tch you see all this money
Made that lil’ b*tch tape a brick to her stomach
You not the gang, we don’t kick it or punt it
Just bought the Wraith and I revved it tectonic
Look at the numbers, mechanics ain’t frontin’
I came from the lint, went to jail, I got punished, ooh
Pourin’ a four, Freddy Kreuger, wow
My niggas turn barracuda
You cappin’, I came from trappin’
I used to have the dope stashed in the cabinet (dope!)
Mama couldn’t tell me s**t, where was my daddy? (Mom)
Look at my Patek, I’m flexin’, I’m petty (I’m petty)
I f*cked the pus*y the first time I met it
Won’t give you no credit, you ate it, spaghetti
I cook the brick, cut the brick with machetes
Married the money, the b*tch wasn’t ready, uh, uhhh.

Uh, uh, play with that pus*y like peek-a-boo, uh
Play with that pus*y like peeka boo, uh
Play with that pus*y like peek-a-boo, uh
Play with that pus*y like peek-a-boo, uh
Play with that money like peek-a-boo, ooh
Play with these b*tches like peek-a-boo, uh
Broke a*s b*tch a*s nigga
I’m not finna’ play with you, that’s what these rappers do
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, b*tch
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo
Peek-a-boo, b*tch
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, b*tch
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, nigga
I’m not finna’ play with you, that’s what these rappers do.

New grey drop top Audi, 2013, yeah
White coco, butterfly wings, 2k17
Ice (ice), came out the machine (ice)
Came out the machine (ice baby)
Draco, Uzi, Tommy gun, SK (Tommy gun), all machines, brrrt
Yeah, hey, pull up on the side of ’em, skrrt
Let the clip ride on ’em
Ayy, f*ck 12, open fire on ’em (f*ck 12)
Open up fire on ’em (f*ck 12)
Yeah, don’t tuck in my chain (nah)
I’m with the gang (gang,) hit you with range
Scattering showers, here come the rain
Icy Hot sleeve, these niggas in pain, hey.

Uh, uh, play with that pus*y like peek-a-boo, uh
Play with that pus*y like peek a boo, uh
Play with that pus*y like peek-a-boo, uh
Play with that pus*y like peek-a-boo, uh
Play with that money like peek-a-boo, ooh
Play with these b*tches like peek-a-boo, uh
Broke a*s b*tch a*s nigga
I’m not finna’ play with you, that’s what these rappers do.

Left wrist white, it’s the Patek (Philippe)
Bad white b*tch with a fatty (unique)
Smokin’ on cookies from granny (trees)
Pocket rocket, go go gadget (go go)
I make a play, Madden (John)
I know it was some speculation ’bout who the one
But we invented the dabbin’ (dab)
f*ck it, we just let ’em have it (have it)
Draco for niggas with static (brrt, static)
I can do magic and make me a rabbit
With usin’ my karats (ice, woah)
Just like the package, I’m drinkin’ on Actavis, expensive habits (Actavis, mud)
Yellow b*tch, Pikachu (b*tch)
Cameltoe peekin’ at you (look at you)
Peek-a-boo
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-booo.
Lil Yachty lyrics
Video boo

Manolo Rose – Ball Drop

Lyrics•by Azlyrics•Posted March 11, 2017•0 Comment(s)

[Intro]
Hello?
Hello?
Who?

[Pre-Hook]
Ring, ring, ring, homie whose this?
New number, homie whose this?
You ain’t heard? I’m on some new shit
You ain’t heard? I’m on some new shit
S.T.K over Ruth Chris
S.T.K over Ruth Chris
Last year I had the four door
This year I’m on some coupe shit

[Hook]
But homie when the ball drop
Yo homie when the ball drop
Word to God I’m on some new shit
Word to God I’m on some new shit

[Verse 1]
New Years Resolution
Stop praising sucka niggas that ain’t do shit
Fresher guns I ain’t shoot shit
Stop telling lies I’m the truth bitch
Way before the deal I was loopy
Bakin for the cash money like you’re Tunechi
Might do the 84 drug dealer Gucci
Went stupid in this spot but we made a movie

[Pre-Hook]
Ring, ring, ring, homie whose this?
New number, homie whose this?
You ain’t heard? I’m on some new shit
You ain’t heard? I’m on some new shit
S.T.K over Ruth Chris
S.T.K over Ruth Chris
Last year I had the four door
This year I’m on some coupe shit

[Hook]
But homie when the ball drop
Yo homie when the ball drop
Word to God I’m on some new shit
Word to God I’m on some new shit

[Verse 2]
New Years Resolution
Bands to the letters is the only resolution
How much in the bank? Who stop, we just shoot it
Everything good in my pocket. Boy I do this!
We just spendin’ all that extra
Presidential Rollie but I kept the bezel regular
She ain’t fuck you or your homies cause you’re regular
You the type to bug on ya bitch cause she next to us

[Pre-Hook]
Ring, ring, ring, homie whose this?
New number, homie whose this?
You ain’t heard? I’m on some new shit
You ain’t heard? I’m on some new shit. (resolution)
S.T.K over Ruth Chris
S.T.K over Ruth Chris
Last year I had the four door
This year I’m on some coupe shit

[Hook]
But homie when the ball drop
Yo homie when the ball drop
Word to God I’m on some new shit
Word to God I’m on some new shit

Jim Jones – Kitchen

Lyrics•by Azlyrics•Posted November 2, 2016

[Jim Jones]
Vamp life
(I got that money)
You know what they say
Trap jumping
When it get to hot in the kitchen, uh
What you cooking? Chicken or fish?
(I don’t wanna hear you niggas talking about no more work)
How many pots on the stove?

[Hook: Cashout]
I got the money and I got the pack
(Got that pack)
I drop a deuce in then I bring it back
(Bring it right back)
Drop a four in it then drop [?]
They love when I be cooking up the blow
In the kitchen, I’m in love with my kitchen
I’m in love with my kitchen
I’m in love with my kitchen
I’m in love with my kitchen
Yeah
I got the money and I got the sack
(Got that sack)
I drop a deuce in it then I bring it back
In the kitchen

[Verse 1: Jim Jones]
I got four pots going and a crock pot too
Cooked four quarters and I got back two
Want fishscale? And I got that too
But I’m dry right now
Nigga stop back through
Talking ’bout cooking the whiter shade
Nigga’s be using the microwave
They booked ’em and took ’em in right away
He might never see the light of day
The walls in my kitchen all yellow
So I put the coke in the fridge like it’s Jello
You know you got to guard the kitchen
So I keep shooters in New York like Carmello
I be cooking that shit like it’s Ruth Chris
Cooking that shit to a new whip
Look at that shit while I’m hitting that shit
Now I’m whipping that shit like its Cool Whip
Traffic, compression then stretch it
To buy it we don’t need to test it
If it ain’t about money don’t stress it
Put the Tec to a nigga like a message
Still cooking coke like five stars
Young dope boy with five cars
All cash nigga how be buy ours
Yeah we live fast and we die hard

[Hook]
I got the money and I got the pack
(Got that pack)
I drop a deuce in then I bring it back
(Bring it right back)
Drop a four in it then drop [?]
They love when I be cooking up the blow
In the kitchen, I’m in love with my kitchen
I’m in love with my kitchen
I’m in love with my kitchen
I’m in love with my kitchen
Yeah
I got the money and I got the sack
(Got that sack)
I drop a deuce in it then I bring it back
In the kitchen

[Verse 2: Hell Rell]
Ruger!
Man I got the money and I got the pack
You know a Ruger to this little light-skinned bitch
He ain’t never gotta buy
(Hey baby)
All I gotta do is look at my shooter and he ‘gon pop the strap
Uptown with the mother-fuckin’ killers is where you’ll find me at
Might cook a whole brick with my gun on me
Shoot my old man if he run on me
Bury me in all gold
At least put a mother-fucking ton on me
Man these nigga’s ain’t living right
Don’t be suprised if you got a [?] homie
I brought some real money out tonight
In case niggas front on me
In my kitchen
I’m in love in my kitchen
When my hand start to itchin’ then them bricks get to flippin’
Bought a house with ten bathrooms, because I stay shittin’
Nigga’s look funny then my shooters start hittin’
(Hittin’)

[Hook]
I got the money and I got the pack
(Got that pack)
I drop a deuce in then I bring it back
(Bring it right back)
Drop a four in it then drop [?]
They love when I be cooking up the blow
In the kitchen, I’m in love with my kitchen
I’m in love with my kitchen
I’m in love with my kitchen
I’m in love with my kitchen
Yeah
I got the money and I got the sack
(Got that sack)
I drop a deuce in it then I bring it back
In the kitchen

[Verse 3: Philthy Rich]
Uh-huh
It’s Philthy nigga
I do!
Look

I say now forty birds in my caravan
This forty on me got a kick-stand
I’m in love with the kitchen nigga
Tell the hoe do the dishes nigga
(Ay, clean up bitch!)
Two stoves and eight pots
Two niggas cooking eight blocks
The [?] from foot heels to [?] that’s eight blocks
In the kitchen like culinary
These nigga’s actors like Tyler Perry
Ain’t never move no kilos
Couldn’t find you one like Nemo
My whole hood been locked up for trafficking, doing life nigga
On 580 doing eighty nigga with an eighty pack of that white shit
Thirty-six and the whole whammy
In a cereal box stuffed in the cabinet
Right behind all the baking soda
If you cook it right you might take it over
Fish-scale, my lips sealed, I’ll never tell what I don’ seen
Bag it up, put a thousand grams on the triple-beam
(It’s Philthy)