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Russia Video (MV)




Performed By: Dave East
Written by: David Brewster Jr.




Dave East - Russia Lyrics
Official




Holiday Season

I talk to God like I'm 'bout to die (die)
I think of Malik and I start to cry (leak)
They paid no attention, was walking by (walking)
Outside looking for smokers to start they high
It was 7 am in my auntie building
My man just got low, he a wanted killer (wanted)
You won't put in no work but you want a million? (huh?)
Disrespect on the dirt, now we on a mission (ridin')
I got no pics on Kairi
New Glock 9 on my hip, you get clipped if you reachin' (boom)
Make the bartender send you a shot or some bleach
We gon' make you go viral, you cry like Tyrese
You say my name on a single, my niggas gon' lean you, we'll be at your album release (facts)
Jay might pick me up, we just got him a Jeep
Dre Mac called me my phone, said he got him some freaks
If I ain't in Dolce Gabanna, they bite like piranhas, I probably Versace my teeth
Send threats on the net but be hiding from me
I play Soho that's why this designer on me
Middle of the projects momma dying on me
You want dust, I can pull up with gallons on me (lean)
This ain't Smack DVD, ain't no battling me
'Lik and Mugga forever, they tatted on me

I got a bitch, came from Russia
Don't understand her when I f*ck her, gon' spend all the money (ballin', ballin')
I rush every hour, Chris Tucker
I'm balling on 'em like the Rucker, we laughing it's funny (ballin' ballin')
I beat it like I'm DJ Mustard
I got your bitch all through the gutter, I just told her bust it
We got them sticks on us in public
I cannot kick it for nothing, might f*ck up your budget
I got a bitch you can't touch
Can't understand her when I f*ck her, gon' spend all the money (ballin', ballin')
I rush every hour, Chris Tucker
I'm balling on 'em like the Rucker, we laughing it's funny (ballin' ballin')
I beat it like I'm DJ Mustard
I got your bitch all through the gutter, I just told her bust it
We got them sticks on us in public
I cannot kick it for nothing, might f*ck up your budget

Drum on me, don't play percussion
F*ck her so good, she be cussing
You got low with a onion (ay)
I got this shit out the dungeon
I don't owe nobody nothing
This pistol is Russian
Matter of fact, this bitch is German
Couldn't get nothin' from niggas, shit, I had to earn it
I got some Gelato, let's burn it
Gun on me with no license, I don't got no permit
Money, got it straight, it look like I permed it
F*ck a DA, I don't care about the verdict (f*ck)
Nigga violate, most likely got murdered (murdered)
She ain't tryna f*ck, most likely I curved it (curve)
She let me hit it, couldn't understand her
She ain't wanna job, she just wanna scam
I'm really from the trenches working on my manners
Versace pajamas, I just bought some hammers
Wanted to keep taking pictures, so we caught his camera
Getting shot, pray to God I try to call your grandma
Afterparty at the crib, left with all the dancers
Poise spread, gotta get rid of all the cancer
Never thought about a sale, taking all of them chances
Now, the label want a tape, I get all of them advances
Shoot at them red bottoms, I got all of them dancing
Money make me look good, now they calling me handsome

I got a bitch, came from Russia
Don't understand her when I f*ck her, gon' spend all the money (ballin', ballin')
I rush every hour, Chris Tucker
I'm balling on 'em like the Rucker, we laughing it's funny (ballin' ballin')
I beat it like I'm DJ Mustard
I got your bitch all through the gutter, I just told her bust it
We got them sticks on us in public
I cannot kick it for nothing, might f*ck up your budget
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

[ Correct these Lyrics ]

We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.


We currently do not have these lyrics. If you would like to submit them, please use the form below.




Holiday Season

I talk to God like I'm 'bout to die (die)
I think of Malik and I start to cry (leak)
They paid no attention, was walking by (walking)
Outside looking for smokers to start they high
It was 7 am in my auntie building
My man just got low, he a wanted killer (wanted)
You won't put in no work but you want a million? (huh?)
Disrespect on the dirt, now we on a mission (ridin')
I got no pics on Kairi
New Glock 9 on my hip, you get clipped if you reachin' (boom)
Make the bartender send you a shot or some bleach
We gon' make you go viral, you cry like Tyrese
You say my name on a single, my niggas gon' lean you, we'll be at your album release (facts)
Jay might pick me up, we just got him a Jeep
Dre Mac called me my phone, said he got him some freaks
If I ain't in Dolce Gabanna, they bite like piranhas, I probably Versace my teeth
Send threats on the net but be hiding from me
I play Soho that's why this designer on me
Middle of the projects momma dying on me
You want dust, I can pull up with gallons on me (lean)
This ain't Smack DVD, ain't no battling me
'Lik and Mugga forever, they tatted on me

I got a bitch, came from Russia
Don't understand her when I f*ck her, gon' spend all the money (ballin', ballin')
I rush every hour, Chris Tucker
I'm balling on 'em like the Rucker, we laughing it's funny (ballin' ballin')
I beat it like I'm DJ Mustard
I got your bitch all through the gutter, I just told her bust it
We got them sticks on us in public
I cannot kick it for nothing, might f*ck up your budget
I got a bitch you can't touch
Can't understand her when I f*ck her, gon' spend all the money (ballin', ballin')
I rush every hour, Chris Tucker
I'm balling on 'em like the Rucker, we laughing it's funny (ballin' ballin')
I beat it like I'm DJ Mustard
I got your bitch all through the gutter, I just told her bust it
We got them sticks on us in public
I cannot kick it for nothing, might f*ck up your budget

Drum on me, don't play percussion
F*ck her so good, she be cussing
You got low with a onion (ay)
I got this shit out the dungeon
I don't owe nobody nothing
This pistol is Russian
Matter of fact, this bitch is German
Couldn't get nothin' from niggas, shit, I had to earn it
I got some Gelato, let's burn it
Gun on me with no license, I don't got no permit
Money, got it straight, it look like I permed it
F*ck a DA, I don't care about the verdict (f*ck)
Nigga violate, most likely got murdered (murdered)
She ain't tryna f*ck, most likely I curved it (curve)
She let me hit it, couldn't understand her
She ain't wanna job, she just wanna scam
I'm really from the trenches working on my manners
Versace pajamas, I just bought some hammers
Wanted to keep taking pictures, so we caught his camera
Getting shot, pray to God I try to call your grandma
Afterparty at the crib, left with all the dancers
Poise spread, gotta get rid of all the cancer
Never thought about a sale, taking all of them chances
Now, the label want a tape, I get all of them advances
Shoot at them red bottoms, I got all of them dancing
Money make me look good, now they calling me handsome

I got a bitch, came from Russia
Don't understand her when I f*ck her, gon' spend all the money (ballin', ballin')
I rush every hour, Chris Tucker
I'm balling on 'em like the Rucker, we laughing it's funny (ballin' ballin')
I beat it like I'm DJ Mustard
I got your bitch all through the gutter, I just told her bust it
We got them sticks on us in public
I cannot kick it for nothing, might f*ck up your budget
[ Correct these Lyrics ]
Writer: David Brewster Jr.
Copyright: Lyrics © Universal Music Publishing Group

Back to: Dave East

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