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Young Dolph - PAPER ROUTE iLLUMINATi Album Lyrics



Young Dolph - PAPER ROUTE iLLUMINATi Lyrics






Talking to My Scale

(We got all the beef)
Yeah, nigga, f*ck everybody, f*ck everything, nigga
Get money, nigga
Run that shit up, nigga
Run that shit all the way up, nigga
'Til you can't run it no motherf*ckin' more, nigga
All the way up, nigga
Up-up, nigga, to the motherf*ckin' ceiling, nigga
F*ck these bitches
F*ck these niggas, too, f*ck 'em all
Yah mean? I mean this shit, for real, for real, nigga, straight up
Ayy (ayy)

If I sacrificed myself, will I go to hell? (Huh?)
In my trap house countin' guala, talkin' to my scale (what up?)
My jewelry box havin' more water than Wisconsin Dells (water)
Trap nigga, I count money better than I spell
Came up from nothin', addicted to hustlin'
Yeah, he my dawg, but nah, I don't trust him
She a bad bitch, but she know we just f*ckin'
She told me she love me, I told her, "You pluckin'"
(Cut that shit out, lil' mama) stop it
This bitch deserve a gold medal the way she suck it (shit)
Blue Louis V bucket (yeah), my chain too big to tuck it (yeah)
My blunts the size of Biggie, spendin' paper like I'm Puffy (yeah)
She f*ck me, then she lucky (I swear)
Yeah, she got that super sloppy, I call that bitch yucky
Bitch, don't speak to me in public (bitch)
Fast money, fast cars, I live for this shit (bitch)
My young nigga 'nem, man, they gon' kill for this shit (bitch)
Shakin' my head, Dolph, you just too real for this shit (bitch)
My first investment was a vacuum seal, then I got rich (bitch)
Mimo can get whatever from me 'cause he never switched
Jizzle was right there with me, man, we didn't have shit
Sleepy Cuz quick to tell me, "F*ck him, he a bitch" (f*ck him)
Dog ass nigga off the leash, duckin' the pigs (Dolph)
Went and found the plug, came back and told my nigga, "It's up" (it's Dolph)
We gon' ball forever and forever, straight out the mud (hey)
Been through so much shit, so I fill my body up with drugs (can't help it)
Twenty whips in front of the club, nigga, that's us (us)
I'm my own stylist, I spent millions on designers (drippin')
I got my own island, nigga, cast out and you can find me
Got more jewelry than your jeweler, nigga, I spent millions on diamonds
I put ice on everybody around me just to see 'em shinin' (yeah, yeah)
My spot got great customer service like Chick-fil-A (yeah)
Might take her to the hood, but I can't take her on a date (yeah)
Sleepwalkin' on that codeine, but I'm wide awake (yeah)
These niggas ain't f*ckin' with me and I put that on Otto May (yeah, yeah)

Ain't nobody give me shit, nigga, yah mean?
I had to get out here and straighten this shit up, nigga
Get this shit the hard way, yah mean?
I had to figure this shit out, nigga, yah mean?
Just me and my real niggas, yah mean?
Nigga, you ain't eat off the floor with us
Nigga, you ain't eat out the garbage, nigga, yah mean?
You wasn't there, nigga, you wasn't there with us, nigga
We had to get it how we lived, nigga, I put this shit on Otto May

Nah, I ain't finished, nigga (yeah, yeah)
My office is a trap house in south Memphis, nigga (yeah, yeah)
Ridin' with a fully through the city, nigga (yeah, yeah)
I been sellin' bags by the fifty, nigga (yeah, yeah)
Pinky ring, it cost me seven-fifty, nigga (yeah, yeah)
Pour a eight and drink it, I don't sip it, nigga (yeah, yeah)
Kickin' shit and smokin' off a Benton, nigga (ayy, bruh)
You a grown man, stop all of that bitchin', nigga (damn)
I go so hard, make 'em hate me (damn)
My whole life a movie, HD (clear)
Blue retro, blue AP (yeah)
Too much ice, don't need AC (nah)
Had to put her out, the bitch tried to rape me
I wear water, I don't drink it, I drink lean (Route)
I pour lean and grapefruit juice and rock blue diamonds
Nah, these niggas ain't me
Sixties on a double-R, look up at the stars (in the clouds)
Smokin' Skittles and thankin' God, remember I used to starve (for real though)
Dope boy with dope boy dreams, never thought I'd make it this far (for real though)
Fourteen, I jumped out there, started swimmin' with the sharks
Gang bang, play some ball, go get a plug of raw (raw)
I got the type of ice that it go crazy in the dark (dark)
You put your trust in a bitch, I put my trust in the mob (mob)
I got all type of shit parked in the garage (hey, hey)

It's Dolph
If I sacrificed myself, will I go to hell? (Huh?)
In my trap house countin' guala, talkin' to my scale
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Adolph Thornton Jr.
Copyright: Lyrics © EMPIRE PUBLISHING




Blu Boyz

Yeah, yeah
(Shawty Fresh on the track)
Okay (switch it up)
Ayy, this how we gon' do this shit
like this right here, man
Check me out (let the band play)

I got a pocket full of blue boys (racks)
Amiri jeans and some new Jordans (uh)
Got a duffle bag full of blue boys (yeah)
Just left the car lot, got a new toy (skrrt)
I got a backpack full of blue boys (stacks)
On the way to Eliantte in New York (ice)
Man, I got a trunk full of blue boys (what?)
Ridin' through The Bay, bumpin' Too $hort (bitch)
Yeah, I got a pocket full of blue boys (Franks)
I got them old hunnids and them new boys (bitch)
Bitch, I keep a bag full of blue boys (bitch)
I got medicine in my two cups (bitch)
800K of them blue boys (woo)
I was in the trap, tell me where you was (trap)
I spent all them twenties and fifties and tens
Lil' nigga, and I stacked all them blue boys (yeah, yeah)

Paper Route Frank, that's me (what up?)
Paper Route the gang, that's we (okay)
Ugly, black-ass nigga, but my bank account on fleek (yeah)
Baby, come let a rich nigga beat (ayy, come here)
Beat that lil' pussy right to sleep (ah, ah, ah, ah)
She a vegetarian, but she love my meat (woo)
Dolph, you a fool (uh)
Just me and forty bad bitches swimmin' in the pool
Lost a dub just the other day shootin' pool
When I was broke, I was still
The realest nigga in the room (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
When I was broke, I was still
The realest nigga in the room (yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
I got so high, I can sit on the moon (damn)
Go get the money forever my mood
Takin' cough syrup and I don't use a spoon
Nigga, I'm the plug and I'm my own goon
My trap hotter than Arizona in June (woo)
Emerald cuts in my charm (rocks)
Crazy AP on my arm (rocks)
Bad bitch with me and she drinkin' on rum

I got a pocket full of blue boys (racks)
Amiri jeans and some new Jordans (uh)
Got a duffle bag full of blue boys (yeah)
Just left the car lot, got a new toy (skrrt)
I got a backpack full of blue boys (stacks)
On the way to Eliantte in New York (yup)
Man, I got a trunk full of blue boys (yup)
Ridin' through The Bay, bumpin' Too $hort (yeah, yeah, yeah)

I got a pocket full of blue boys
You know I f*ck with that nigga Frank
I just bought a new toy with no ceilings
I feel like Wayne, don't ask what I'm drankin' (Wock-Wock)
I just left the hood, old heads like, "Be careful"
Young niggas keep tellin' me to stay dangerous
I'm ten toes down, hell nah, can't change up
Money on my mind and my hand on the banger
Uh, yeah, yeah, money on my mind and my finger on the banger
Big-ass pistol and a big-ass chain (yeah)
Little niggas with me and they can't be tamed (uh-uh)
I can walk outside, make it snow or rain (woo)
Just holdin' up my watch and ring (woo, yeah)
That's the sound of me switchin' lanes
I'm in the flexin' hall of fame
My Glock can talk, it be like, "Bang"
You spent that shit up on a car
I spent that shit on my earrings (yeah)
Cold, yeah, I'm frosty, man (ice)
Me and them are not the same
(Yeah, me and them are not the same)
No, I don't f*ck with 12, but-

I got a pocket full of blue boys (yup)
Amiri jeans and some new Jordans (Mikes)
Got a duffle bag full of blue boys (ooh)
Just left the car lot, got a new toy (skrrt)
I got a backpack full of blue boys (stacks)
On the way to Eliantte in New York (yoom)
Man, I got a trunk full of blue boys (what?)
Ridin' through The Bay, bumpin' Too $hort (bitch)
Yeah, I got a pocket full of blue boys (Franks)
I got them old hunnids and them new boys (yeah)
Bitch, I keep a bag full of blue boys (uh)
I got medicine in my two cups (bitch)
800K of them blue boys (woo)
I was in the trap, tell me where you was (trap)
I spent all them twenties and fifties and tens
Lil' nigga, and I stacked all them blue boys (yeah, yeah) (Bandz)

Got a pocket full of blue boys (big racks)
Got a whole lot of Glocks, got a whole lot of choppers (Glocks)
Every jugg in the hood, I'm the neighborhood doctor (yeah)
Edgin' hard on these niggas, we ain't f*ckin' with imposters (yeah)
Ain't no nigga f*ckin' with me, bitch, I'm hotter than lava (hot)
I just cashed out on a 'Vette, I'm doin' donuts in the lot (skrrt)
Heard the feds on my ass, had to switch up out the spots
I was broke, took a risk, now I got a big knot
Yeah, I been spazzin' (spazzin')
Two hundred on the dash, I ain't doin' no crashin' (nah)
Brand new pack, I just bust it out the plastic
Hustlin'-ass nigga, this shit from my daddy (my daddy)
Cold-hearted nigga, got this shit from my mama (my mama)
Too much ammunition, I ain't really with the drama (bah, bah, bah)
Block 19, I be runnin' with some gunners
Ain't shit stoppin' my grind, I'ma be rich by the summer
All these blues in my pocket like I robbed the bank
We the big three, me, Glock, and Paper Route Frank (yeah)
All these pussy-ass rappers better stay in they lane (yeah)
You ain't ready for the streets, nigga, it's a cold game (nah)
Got rich off grass, never touched cocaine (never)
Never had this much money, got me goin' insane (insane)
Ever since I hit the bottom, been doin' my thing (my thing)

I got a pocket full of blue boys (racks)
Amiri jeans and some new Jordans (uh)
Got a duffle bag full of blue boys (yeah)
Just left the car lot, got a new toy (skrrt)
I got a backpack full of blue boys (stacks)
On the way to Eliantte in New York (ice)
Man, I got a trunk full of blue boys (what?)
Ridin' through The Bay, bumpin' Too $hort (bitch)
Yeah, I got a pocket full of blue boys (franks)
I got them old hunnids and them new boys (bitch)
Bitch, I keep a bag full of blue boys (bitch)
I got medicine in my two cups (bitch)
800K of them blue boys (woo)
I was in the trap, tell me where you was (trap)
I spent all them twenties and fifties and tens
Lil' nigga, and I stacked all them blue boys (yeah, yeah)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Adolph Thornton Jr., Markeyvius Cathey
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC




Beat It

Uh, uh
This shit no pen, no pad
(Denaro, where the love at?)

Uh, let's go
I get the pack and I beat it, I beat it, beat it, beat it, uh
Too much drip and I make yo' bitch eat it (drip, drip, eat it up)
I slide with the baby K, I'm undefeated (brrt)
Yeah, I'm undefeated (brrt-brrt)
Play with my gang, make yo' ass need a deacon (outta there)
Yup, I'll make your ass need a deacon (he gone)
Put loads in them drums, on your block and we beat it (brrt-brrt)

I get the pack and I beat it, I beat it, beat it, beat it, uh
Too much drip and I make yo' bitch eat it (drip, drip, eat it up)
I slide with the baby K, I'm undefeated (brrt)
Yeah, I'm undefeated (brrt-brrt)
Play with my gang, make yo' ass need a deacon (outta there)
Yup, I'll make your ass need a deacon (he gone)
Put loads in them drums, on your block and we beat it (brrt-brrt)

Beat it, beat it, beat it
.556 Michael Jackson, yeah, I make you beat it (uh)
I got big racks in them Glocks when you see me (uh)
High-speed, the narc's can't stop in the Hemi (yoom, outta there)
Uh, nah, I can't stop in the Hemi (uh-uh)
Late-night creepin', I slide with them gremlins
Barrels and bodies, you know we got plenty (no cap)
Bitch, this a Drac', I ain't tuckin' no semi (brrt)
They stealin' my style, so I had to switch it up
I got the juice like a sippy cup
Uh, I hit this bitch from the back and I told the ho get it up
Run up on me, ambulance gon' pick ya up (brrt-brrt)
Uh, uh, yeah, they gon' pick ya up (brrt)
Uh, bad ass nigga makin' plays out a steamer truck (yoom)
I had no choice but to get it up (trap)

Let's go
I get the pack and I beat it, I beat it, beat it, beat it, uh
Too much drip and I make yo' bitch eat it (drip, drip, eat it up)
I slide with the baby K, I'm undefeated (brrt)
Yeah, I'm undefeated (brrt-brrt)
Play with my gang, make yo' ass need a deacon (outta there)
Yup, I'll make your ass need a deacon (he gone)
Put loads in them drums, on your block and we beat it (brrt-brrt)

I get the pack and I beat it, I beat it, beat it, beat it, uh
Too much drip and I make yo' bitch eat it (drip, drip, eat it up)
I slide with the baby K, I'm undefeated (brrt)
Yeah, I'm undefeated (brrt-brrt)
Play with my gang, make yo' ass need a deacon (outta there)
Yup, I'll make your ass need a deacon (he gone)
Put loads in them drums, on your block and we beat it (brrt-brrt)

Go (go), go (go), go (go), go, let's go (skrrt)
Lay in the bushes, aim in through the scope
Wait on this f*ck nigga to walk out the door
Made millions off rap, but I love sellin' dope
Most valuable player, boy, go ask your ho (ayy)
Two to the chest and one to the head
And that's when we fled when he hit the floor (bah)
Do I get along with rappers? No
But ask the trappers 'bout me, bitch, I'm the G.O.A.T (Dolph)
Whole lotta motherf*ckin' ice 'round my throat (woo)
Business meeting with the plug on the boat (yeah)
Bad Puerto Rican bitch need some blow (yeah)
She too fine, but I don't trust a ho (uh-uh)
She drinkin' wine and I poured me a four
She called her friend, now I'm f*ckin' 'em both (ah, ah, ah, ah)
Clutchin' my Glock while they both give me sloppy
Seven figures at the stash house in Raleigh (racks)
Nothin' but choppas at the house in Bartlett (yeah-yeah)
We ride Hellcats, not no motherf*ckin' Harleys
Trust nobody 'cause I'm cold-hearted
My young nigga Big Unccc, bitch, he the hardest

Let's go
I get the pack and I beat it, I beat it, beat it, beat it, uh
Too much drip and I make yo' bitch eat it (drip, drip, eat it up)
I slide with the baby K, I'm undefeated (brrt)
Yeah, I'm undefeated (brrt-brrt)
Play with my gang, make yo' ass need a deacon (outta there)
Yup, I'll make your ass need a deacon (he gone)
Put loads in them drums, on your block and we beat it (brrt-brrt)

I get the pack and I beat it, I beat it, beat it, beat it, uh
Too much drip and I make yo' bitch eat it (drip, drip, eat it up)
I slide with the baby K, I'm undefeated (brrt)
Yeah, I'm undefeated (brrt-brrt)
Play with my gang, make yo' ass need a deacon (outta there)
Yup, I'll make your ass need a deacon (he gone)
Put loads in them drums, on your block and we beat it (brrt-brrt)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Adolph Thornton Jr.
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




I Do This

1-0-1-7, PRE (ayy, yo, BandPlay)

F*ck what they talkin' 'bout
I've been gettin' my cake and runnin' wild since a lil' child
Yeah, gettin' it every day, I'm workin' sun up 'til the sun down
Yeah, I'm gettin' it every day, these niggas hatin', tryna see how
I do this shit

Bitch, I'm not new to this, I'm true to this, you grew to this
I got that thirty on me, that ruler clip, I'll do you in
Shoot you and all your friends, yeah, I'm goin' ten for ten
Yeah, these niggas hoes, they ain't gon' touch a hair on my chinny-chin
Yeah, big PRE championship ring 'cause all I do is win
Yeah, big old Glock, riding down the street up in a big old Benz
Huh, hop out designer with Js again? Yeah, I set that trend
Uh, I used to drip, now I drench
Huh, yeah, bitch, I drench
Uh, yeah, I've been buyin' so much shit, it don't make no sense
Yeah, all my exes throwin' fits, they missed out on the kid
Yeah, no matter how much money I get, I'll never pay a bitch
Or never pay attention, nigga
Uh, yeah, I'm paralyzed, I got no feelings
Yeah, I got no feelings for these lil' scandalous-ass bitches
Yeah, when it come to gettin' money, bitch, I'm so persistent
Yeah, bitch, I'm so precise
Uh, you know I got stripes, ayy

F*ck what they talkin' 'bout
I've been gettin' my cake and runnin' wild since a lil' child
Yeah, gettin' it every day, I'm workin' sun up 'til the sun down
Yeah, I'm gettin' it every day, these niggas hatin', tryna see how (How)
I do this shit

I do it, I do it, I do it (I do this shit)
Yeah, I do this shit (I do this shit)
Yeah, I do it, I do it (I do this shit)
Yeah, I do this shit (I do this shit)
Yeah, I do it, yeah, I do it (I do this shit)
Yeah, I do this shit (I do this shit) (Wop)
Yeah, I do it, I do it (I do this shit)
Yeah, I do this shit (I do this shit, nigga)

Stop the track, Glock, R.I.P to George Floyd (Stop)
I'm Gucci Mane LaFlare, my watch cost way more than Floyd's (Well, damn)
These niggas broke as hell and it's obvious to see (I see)
Gucci-ology, these niggas be studying me (Wow)
Get up off my dick like a bitch, like a bitch (Bitch)
F*ck a gang, I don't need a clique, I'm the shit (Pfft)
Glock young and rich, he got whips, matching fits (Glizzock)
I ain't try to sign him, Paper Route ain't signin' shit (No)
Glock be 'bout his Gs, he a G just like me (It's Gucci)
How you just got signed but you broke? That's not we (Well, damn)
1017, South Memphis, East Atlanta in the East (EA)
I'm the one that shot 'em, got you screamin', "R.I.P" (Grah, grah)

F*ck what they talkin' 'bout
I've been gettin' my cake and runnin' wild since a lil' child
Yeah, gettin' it every day, I'm workin' sun up 'til the sun down
Yeah, I'm gettin' it every day, these niggas hatin', tryna see how (How)
I do this shit

I do it, I do it, I do it (I do this shit)
Yeah, I do this shit (I do this shit)
Yeah, I do it, I do it (I do this shit)
Yeah, I do this shit (I do this shit)
Yeah, I do it, yeah, I do it (I do this shit)
Yeah, I do this shit (I do this shit) (Wop)
Yeah, I do it, I do it (I do this shit)
Yeah, I do this shit (I do this shit, nigga)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Adolph Thornton Jr., Markeyvius Cathey, Radric Davis
Copyright: Lyrics © Ultra Tunes, Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd., EMPIRE PUBLISHING




Back to Back

Let the band play
Yeah
Skrrt skrrt, skrrt, uh

Pull up foreigns back to back, back to back, back to back to back
And hop out with them racks, with them racks, yeah, with them big old racks
Ay, shout out to my set, to my set, you see it around my neck
Yeah, bitch, we like to flex, we like to flex, we ball, don't break a sweat

Yeah, all these damn dead presidents, I'm gettin' too much, it's scarin' me
F*ck these hoes, just let 'em be, can't let 'em get the best of me
Bitch, I got the recipe, can't no nigga compare to me
Yeah, all this water water on me, I might go join the swimming team
I got dough, Krispy Kreme
Fresh to death, crispy clean
Bitch I smoke Christmas trees
Got them lumps in my jeans
Diamonds jumping, trampoline
Uh, all you hear is bling (bling)
Ball so hard, they think we cheatin'
Yeah, yeah, yeah, you see it

We pull up foreigns back to back, back to back, back to back to back
And hop out with them racks, with them racks, yeah, with them big old racks
Ay, shout out to my set, to my set, you see it around my neck
Yeah, bitch, we like to flex, we like to flex, we ball, don't break a sweat

We pull up back to back, back to back to back to back to back
No, I don't play fair, shit 'round my neck jumpin' like jumping jacks
All these bitches swear that they love me, bitch, you just love these stacks
Dolph come on the radio, your girl gon' turn it up to the max
Paper Route, Paper Route, Paper Route (uh)
Motherf*ckin' business, lil' nigga (uh)
F*ck this rap shit, got some homeboys down the road doin' life sentence
Lil' nigga (free my dawgs, free my dawgs)
I never played tennis but I got racks (racks)
Eight stacks just for a backpack (racks)
See some f*ck niggas, then blatt blatt (blatt blatt)
Blatt blatt blatt blatt (ay)
Lake Michigan on my wrist (flooded)
Mississippi river on my neck (flooded)
Went to hollywood just to go flex (it's Dolph)
I took his bitch, made her my pet (bitch)
I wish all of my old hoes the best (f*ck y'all)
Me and Tray-Tray on a jet (bitch)
Blue Power Ranger on his chest, hah, blessed

Pull up foreigns back to back, back to back, back to back to back
And hop out with them racks, with them racks, yeah, with them big old racks
Ay, shout out to my set, to my set, you see it around my neck
Yeah, bitch, we like to flex, we like to flex, we ball, don't break a sweat
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Adolph Thornton, Krishon Gaines, Markeyvuis Cathey
Copyright: Lyrics © Sony/ATV Music Publishing LLC, Songtrust Ave, Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




Remember

(BugBangin)
Bandz
Yeah
Big Bandz
Ayy, this shit no cap
On God

Remember them days I was walking (Walking)
Now a nigga balling like Spaulding (I'm balling)
I done came up, everybody keep calling (Calling)
Big bankroll when I wake up in the morning (Wake up)
Flip me a pack, get the profit, and blow it (Flip)
Nah, f*ck up some racks, get it right back (Right back)
Yeah, you rapping 'bout it, we living like that
Hit the block with an onion and ran up some racks (Racks)

Yeah, beat up the block, got a bankroll (Beat it up)
Can't spend no money on none of these hoes (Never)
All of my niggas on payroll
All of my niggas on go
Yeah, yeah, all of my niggas on go mode (On go mode)
If I up with this Drac', I'ma unload (Drac', baow, baow, baow, baow)
You gotta die if you play with my pesos (On God)
You got to go if you reach for my ice (You gotta go)
Play with the mob and we taking your life (Mob)
I got hitters creeping out through the night
Get caught out of bounds and you know it's on sight (Out of bounds)
Remember we was walking through the hood stealing bikes (Remember)
Now a nigga diamonds hitting up in the light (Hitting)
I was just broke, now I'm balling like Mike (Balling)
No handouts, yeah, I had to get money right
You don't how it feel to lose your last shooting dice (Nah)
You ain't never ever slept in the bando overnight (Never, never)
I was f*cked up, now I cash out, don't give a f*ck 'bout the price (F*ck it)
Come from the bottom, the only way is up (Up)
Got all this shit off of hustle, no luck
Hell nah, I ain't lacking, everywhere, I got the Glock tucked (Glock)
Remember them days I was broke (I was broke), f*cked up up in them apartments (I was f*cked up)
Hit the block, got me some dope (Hit the block), I really ain't have an option (Nah)
Young nigga really was starving (I was starving)
Since a youngin, I've been mobbing (Mobbing)
Tunnel vision to the money, I can see the light, made it out the darkness (Bandz)

Remember them days I was walking (Walking)
Now a nigga balling like Spaulding (I'm balling)
I done came up, everybody keep calling (Calling)
Big bankroll when I wake up in the morning (Wake up)
Flip me a pack, get the profit, and blow it (Flip)
Nah, f*ck up some racks, get it right back (Right back)
Yeah, you rapping 'bout it, we living like that
Hit the block with an onion and ran up some racks (Racks)
Remember them days I was walking (Walking)
Now a nigga balling like Spaulding (I'm balling)
I done came up, everybody keep calling (Calling)
Big bankroll when I wake up in the morning (Wake up)
Flip me a pack, get the profit, and blow it (Flip)
Nah, f*ck up some racks, get it right back (Right back)
Yeah, you rapping 'bout it, we living like that
Hit the block with an onion and ran up some racks (Racks)

New bankroll every day a nigga wake up (Bankroll)
All this ice, I done ran my cake up (Ice)
I'm in LA balling hard like LeBron (LeBron)
In Cali on the beach, I come from the slums
Long way from my block, I came up off a bomb
Smoking on za, fill it up in my lungs (Za)
I'ma get high 'til I'm numb
Exotic smoke got me sprung (Sprung)
Yeah, I'ma get money 'til I can't no more (On God)
I done come up, I ain't going back broke (Nah)
No flaws in my mouth, neck and wrist on froze (On God)
Trap open, nigga, we never closed (Never)
Any mean, that sack, we gotta get it (any mean)
I had to run up some digits
I was walking, now I'm foreign whipping (Skrrt, skrrt, skrrt)

Remember them days I was walking (Walking)
Now a nigga balling like Spaulding (I'm balling)
I done came up, everybody keep calling (Calling)
Big bankroll when I wake up in the morning (Wake up)
Flip me a pack, get the profit, and blow it (Flip)
Nah, f*ck up some racks, get it right back (Right back)
Yeah, you rapping 'bout it, we living like that
Hit the block with an onion and ran up some racks (Racks)
Remember them days I was walking (Walking)
Now a nigga balling like Spaulding (I'm balling)
I done came up, everybody keep calling (Calling)
Big bankroll when I wake up in the morning (Wake up)
Flip me a pack, get the profit, and blow it (Flip)
Nah, f*ck up some racks, get it right back (Right back)
Yeah, you rapping 'bout it, we living like that
Hit the block with an onion and ran up some racks (Racks)

You got to go if you reach for my ice
Play with the mob and we taking your life
I got hitters creeping out through the night
Get caught out of bounds and you know it's on sight
Bandz
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher




Mister Glock 2

(Yo, Mannie)
(Let the BandPlay)
Glizock
Yeah
Yeah

Wockhardt all in my kidneys (Wock', Wock')
I'm one hustling-ass young nigga, I got racks stuffed all in my denim (Yup, yup)
I'm one money-getting-ass lil' nigga, you know that I keep me a pistol (Baow)
Yeah, I stayed down and my money got bigger, now they calling my Mister (Who?)
Glock
Yeah, yeah, Mister Shit On All His Opps
Yeah, bitch, I'm Mister Flex a Lot
Yeah, Mister Stack It 'Til It Rot
Yeah, Mister Don't Care What It Cost
Yeah, Mister Let that Chopper Talk
Yeah, Mister Spend That Shit and Get That Shit Right Back 'Cause It Ain't Nothin' (Yeah)


Play with Glizock, then you're done
Where I'm from, we shoot shit for fun
Fourteen, smoking dope, shooting guns
Yeah, fifteen, flipping Os or onions
Sixteen, taking niggas' money
Seventeen, had juggers jumping
Eighteen, got locked up for hustling
Nineteen, made a milli', motherf*cker
Paper Route business, motherf*cker
I handle my business, motherf*cker
Yeah, I get busy, motherf*cker
Just mind your business, motherf*cker
Run me my digits, motherf*cker
Can't sign no dealy, motherf*cker
Nah, I can't sign shit unless it's eight figures, motherf*cker (The f*ck?)
Yeah, f*ck all that, I ain't selling my soul
I'll just go back to selling them 'bows
I'm sticking to the code
I'll never put a bitch before my dough, no
This on my soul
Everybody know that I keep this shit on and I keep one on me (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
Everybody know Glock don't give a f*ck about a nigga or his homie
Self-made nigga, yeah, I'm a loner
Who want smoke? Yeah, bitch, I'm a stoner
Ayy, come get your bitch, man, you must don't want her
Yeah, I beat that thing up and you know I boned her
Hit it out the park, yeah, I'm talking 'bout a home run
Now I got this bitch here gone-gone
She said that she love me long-long
Time is money, bitch
I am addicted to hustling, bitch
Remember them days I was struggling, bitch
Fast-forward that, now I'm having it, bitch
Yeah, winning, having this shit
Money, choppers and choppers and shit
I keep me a bad-ass addicted lil' bitch
Keep somethin' on my hip and somethin' to sip, nigga, I got


Wockhardt all in my kidneys (Wock', Wock')
I'm one hustling-ass young nigga, I got racks stuffed all in my denim (Yup, yup)
I'm one money-getting-ass lil' nigga, you know that I keep me a pistol (Baow)
Yeah, I stayed down and my money got bigger, now they calling my Mister (Who?)
Glock
Yeah, yeah, Mister Shit On All His Opps
Yeah, bitch, I'm Mister Flex a Lot
Yeah, Mister Stack It 'Til It Rot
Yeah, Mister Don't Care What It Cost
Yeah, Mister Let that Chopper Talk
Yeah, Mister Spend That Shit and Get That Shit Right Back 'Cause It Ain't Nothin' (The f*ck?)

Wockhardt all in my kidneys (Wock', Wock')
I'm one hustling-ass young nigga, I got racks stuffed all in my denim (Yup, yup)
Shit, for real, though
Yup, yup
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher




Band Aid

[Key Glock]
(CLDHRT)
Yeah
(Let the BandPlay)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
G-Lock

[Key Glock]
Ayy, I just cut another check, yeah, I need a Band-Aid (Don't do that shit)
Yeah, a Band-Aid, bitch, I got them bands, ayy (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)
I just cut another check, yeah, I need a Band-Aid
Yeah, a Band-Aid, bitch, I got them bands, ayy (Yeah)

[Key Glock]
Ayy, I do what I want, yeah, bitch, I have my way (Ayy, you know I do what the f*ck I want)
Ayy, if you ain't what I'm on, then get up out my way (Get the f*ck back)
Ayy, if you ain't what I'm on, then get up out my way
Get your money, f*ck these hoes, no time to play (Yeah, MOB)

[Key Glock]
You know I keep somethin' on my waist (You dig?)
You know I keep somethin' on my hip
Rock your ass to sleep just like a baby with this F&N
I'm straight up out the junglе, got some choppers with bananas in 'em
Yеah, look at this nigga here (Yeah)
This nigga icy, this young nigga for real (Glizock)
This nigga balling, this young nigga got skills
Yeah, this nigga got a watch that costs a quarter mill'
Ayy, I just cut my thumb thumbing, yeah, I need a Band-Aid
Bitch, where the Band-Aids at? I need a Band-Aid
I just cut my thumb thumbing, yeah, I need a Band-Aid
Bitch, where the Band-Aids at? I need a Band-Aid



[Key Glock]
I just cut another check, yeah, I need a Band-Aid
Yeah, a Band-Aid, bitch, I got them bands, ayy
I just cut another check, yeah, I need a Band-Aid
Yeah, a Band-Aid, bitch, I got them bands, ayy (Yeah)

[Key Glock & Snupe Bandz]
Ayy, I do what I want, yeah, bitch, I have my way
Ayy, if you ain't what I'm on, then get up out my way
Ayy, if you ain't what I'm on, then get up out my way
Get your money, f*ck these hoes, no time to play (Bandz)

[Snupe Bandz]
Yeah, I do what I want, bitch, I'm self-made (I'm self-made)
I just poured a deuce up in my Minute Maid (Drank)
Hundred shots up in the Drac' (Baow), we shoot first, don't hesitate (Yeah)
All my niggas stepping, bitch, we boosting up the murder rate (On gang, on gang)
C-double-M the mob, free them guys, that's what I bang (Yeah, Murder)
Thirty on my wrist, another fifty on my chain (Baguettes)
No flaws up in my mouth, straight out the trap, ain't Johnny Dang (No flaws)
Don't f*ck with none of these rap niggas, they cap niggas and they lame (Lame)
I just flipped a pack up in the bando, bitch, I'm trapped out (Trapped out)
All I know is flex up on my haters, I got racks now (Big racks)
I took off like a rocket, bitch, I'm never, ever coming down (Never)
Dunking on these niggas like I'm Joc, yeah, bitch, we run this town


[Key Glock]
Ayy, I just cut another check, yeah, I need a Band-Aid (Woo)
Yeah, a Band-Aid, bitch, I got them bands, ayy
I just cut another check, yeah, I need a Band-Aid
Yeah, a Band-Aid, bitch, I got them bands, ayy (Yeah)

[Key Glock]
Ayy, I do what I want, yeah, bitch, I have my way (Yeah)
Ayy, if you ain't what I'm on, then get up out my way (Yeah)
Ayy, if you ain't what I'm on, then get up out my way
Get your money, f*ck these hoes, no time to play
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher




Dead Body

(Band-)
Bitch (let the BandPlay)
Okay
Yeah (uh), yeah (uh), yeah (uh), yeah (uh)
Yeah (uh), yeah (uh), yeah (uh), yeah (uh)
Yeah (uh), yeah (uh), yeah (uh), yeah (uh), ayy

Nigga, have you ever seen a dead body? (Yeah, yeah)
Ridin' 'round town in a big body (AMG)
Came outside today like, f*ck everybody (yeah, yeah)
Ballin' on these bitches, woah, ke-mo sah-bee (yeah, yeah)
Nigga, have you ever seen a dead body? (Dead body)
I ain't experience shit, f*ck everybody (everybody)
She got too much ass, that's a big body (big body bitch)
Ballin' on these niggas, woah, ke-mo sah-bee (baow)

You got a hundred guns but never shot shit (damn)
You the type to fall in love with a thot bitch (damn)
I slayed your ho and now she on the block list (damn)
The streets, they gon' go crazy when I drop this (yeah-yeah)
Ballin', ballin', ballin', that's all I been doin' lately (bitch)
My hood like the wood and my bitch brother just like Stacey (bitch)
She say that I'm number one, I slam her like McGrady (bitch)
Lil' nigga got too much cake but she know I ain't cakin' (bitch)
You never seen a dead body or five hundred Ps (bags)
I parked all the foreigns and jumped in my SRT (fast)
Burnt a nigga and had to throw away my lemon squeeze (shit)
She seen all the ice in person and now she on her knees (uh)

Nigga, have you ever seen a dead body? (Yeah, yeah)
Ridin' 'round town in a big body (AMG)
Came outside today like, f*ck everybody (yeah, yeah)
Ballin' on these bitches, woah, ke-mo sah-bee (yeah, yeah)
Nigga, have you ever seen a dead body? (Dead body)
I ain't experience shit, f*ck everybody (everybody)
She got too much ass, that's a big body (big body bitch)
Ballin' on these niggas, woah, ke-mo sah-bee (baow, uh)

Bitch, I'm big, on ke-mo sah-bee, ballin' is my f*ckin' hobby
You ain't never seen a dead body, never shot nobody
You can't be around, lil' boy, better stop
I got them Glocks and the Drac's, I got arms
You make the wrong move then I knock off your noggin
Pull up on your block and I hopped out with Glock
Made you pop, lock and drop it, uh
Yeah, pop, lock and drop it
Droppin' what's on you, took off like a rocket, uh
I got the racks in my pocket
I was the one trappin' out your apartment, uh
I was just broke and just starvin'
Gucci, VLONE, I don't rock no Ed Hardy, uh
Nah, I don't rock no Ed Hardy
You can turn on my shit and I'm wreckin' your party, uh
Yeah, I'm wreckin' your party
Pull up with Drac's and them carbons, uh
You ain't talkin' money, I'm beggin' your pardon
Trap house jumpin' like Arby's, uh
I got a bitch and she look like a Barbie
Slut the ho out in a Mase', uh
Pop me a pill, I get higher than Mars be
I close my eyes and I see bodies

Nigga, have you ever seen a dead body? (Yeah, yeah)
Ridin' 'round town in a big body (AMG)
Came outside today like, f*ck everybody (yeah, yeah)
Ballin' on these bitches, woah, ke-mo sah-bee (yeah, yeah)
Nigga, have you ever seen a dead body? (Dead body)
I ain't experience shit, f*ck everybody (everybody)
She got too much ass, that's a big body (big body bitch)
Ballin' on these niggas, woah, ke-mo sah-bee (baow, yeah)

Young nigga ballin' (swish)
Got your main bitch and the ho keep callin' (keep callin')
I ain't doin' no talkin' (no talkin')
They skrrt down the hill, tryna kill me a opp
Last nigga play with a nigga, man, I knew about it
Nigga might yell, tried to off 'em (on God)
Yellow tape, white chalk (white chalk)
These niggas, they ain't on shit (on shit)
I was fourteen with my first blick
I was thirteen, hit my first lick (lick)
I was fifteen, hit my first bitch (bitch)
Sixteen, fightin' cases, just a jit
Seventeen, nigga still with the shit (the shit)
Eighteen, nigga, saw my first brick (yeah)
Fast-forward, twenty-one, went legit
Twenty-five now, nigga, and I'm lit
Sell another million 'fore the twenty-sixth (yeah)
My birthday on the twenty-seventh (seventh)
My Glock is a nineteen (yeah)
But it shoot thirty, nigga, Steph Curry (Curry)
Get 'em gone in a hurry (a hurry)
Before the deal, I was splurgin' (splurgin')
Super clean dish detergent (Tide)
Seen your favorite rapper, he was nervous (nervous)

Nigga, have you ever seen a dead body? (Yeah, yeah)
Ridin' 'round town in a big body (AMG)
Came outside today like, f*ck everybody (yeah, yeah)
Ballin' on these bitches, woah, ke-mo sah-bee (yeah, yeah)
Nigga, have you ever seen a dead body? (Dead body)
I ain't experience shit, f*ck everybody (everybody)
She got too much ass, that's a big body (big body bitch)
Ballin' on these niggas, woah, ke-mo sah-bee (baow)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Adolph Thornton Jr., Daniel Banks, PaperRoute Woo
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




Dance

Yeah
(Let the BandPlay)
Alright
Okay, this how we gon' do this right here

Dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance)
I looked down at my watch and all I hear it sayin' (what?)
Dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance)
Shit around my neck goin' crazy, dog, all it do is
Dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance)
Dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance)
Dance (bitch), dance (bitch), dance (dance), dance (dance)
Dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (twerk)

(Big BANDZ)
Turn off the lights, my diamonds still gon' dance, dance
Yeah, and all my drip, it come from France (Paris)
Real trap nigga, I don't need no advance (nah)
Feelin' like Gucci, young nigga so icy
Big baguettes, whole lot of racks on my white tee (racks)
Diamonds hit hard, I got these hoes tryna bite me (hit hard)
Reach for my chain, I'ma send you to God (God)
And if it get locked down, I might step in the pot (yeah, yeah)
Over a hunnid K in drip, but a nigga still can get robbed (baow, baow)
Damn, that young nigga shinin' (shinin')
Yeah, iced all this from my grindin' (woah, woah)
Look at these diamonds (woah, woah)
Look at these diamonds

Dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance)
I looked down at my watch and all I hear it sayin' (what?)
Dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance)
Shit around my neck goin' crazy, dog, all it do is
Dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance)
Dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance)
Dance (bitch), dance (bitch), dance (dance), dance (dance)
Dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (twerk)

Diamonds wet as f*ck up in my mouth, this shit look like a pool (water)
Bitch seen all this ice, her ass started clappin' like my chopper do
Rolex on my wrist, it knock you out, my neck kickboxin' too
My shit just be dancin', it's amazin' what these rocks can do (oh, yeah)
My money doin' front flips, it's amazin' what my pockets do (yeah)
These Cuban links came out the trap I ran, I'm makin' boxes move
You touch 'em, then I'm sprayin', won't make it to the ambulance (uh-uh)
You reach for these VVS or these baguettes, I bet this 4-0 make a nigga

Dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance)
I looked down at my watch and all I hear it sayin' (what?)
Dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance)
Shit around my neck goin' crazy, dog, all it do is
Dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance)
Dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance)
Dance (bitch), dance (bitch), dance (dance), dance (dance)
Dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (twerk)

Uh
Lookin' at my Cartier and all it do is dance (big baguettes)
Brooklyn bitch, diamonds really rockin' on my hands (uh)
Each one of my earrings probably cost your whole advance
Niggas put their jewels on layaway, you on a payment plan
He see that I'm icy, that's the reason why he sweatin' me
Keep my chain on, it's like a lightshow when he sexin' me
I got the whole set with me, we be flossin' heavily
Everything she'll never be (never), that's why that ho obsessed with me (obsessed)

Dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance)
I looked down at my watch and all I hear it sayin' (what?)
Dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance)
Shit around my neck goin' crazy, dog, all it do is
Dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance)
Dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance)
Dance (bitch), dance (bitch), dance (dance), dance (dance)
Dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (twerk)

VVS 'round my wrist, they crystal clear, them bitches dancin'
Got four stops in this two-door coupe, make that demon hop out blastin'
Keep a big bankroll up in my jeans, that's why the opps can't stand me (rackades)
This side cool 'cause we don't give a f*ck
I'll cut 'em, kill they mammies (take 'em out)
My left wrist gon' twinkle, twinkle (bling)
Big Backwood filled up with sprinkles (ZaZa)
Flex my wrist, that bitch start dancin' (yeah)
Throw up bust down, do the macarena (cha-cha)
Chain on my neck like my hoes get to twerkin' (thottie)
Hop in that Maybach and lay back the curtains (yessir)
Nigga too hot, got the bitches, ain't flirtin' (she bad)
She taxin' for me, we come and do surgery (chop 'em up)

Baguettes jumpin' out my Rollie, just watch how it dance (baguettes)
Yeah, two Cuban links up on my right wrist, this shit so outstandin' (two Cubans, uh-huh)
Trap out a house, it's abandoned (abandoned)
Got rich quick, now these niggas can't stand me (uh-uh)
Got too much money on me, I can't fan it (too much)
Yeah, I made the hood full like, "F*ck gettin' a Grammy" (full)
Young rich nigga, might still f*ck your mammie (mammie)
'Fore I made me a play, yeah, the diamonds still dancin' (dancin')
Dance (bitch), dance (bitch), dance (bitch), dance (yessir)
Bands in my pants, drippin' in France (yeah)
Paper Route business, bitch, know we the clan (know we the clan)
Go and ask your bitch, she a real big fan (real big fan)
She wanna f*ck on a young nigga 'cause my diamonds

Dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance)
I looked down at my watch and all I hear it sayin' (what?)
Dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance)
Shit around my neck goin' crazy, dog, all it do is
Dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance)
Dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance)
Dance (bitch), dance (bitch), dance (dance), dance (dance)
Dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (twerk)

Ayy, I got bands (bands), bands (bands), bands (bands), bands (bands)
Ayy, go and ask your bitch, she gon' tell you that Glizock
Yep, he the man (the man), the man (the man), the man (the man), the man (the man)
Bitch, I've been hustlin' so long, this money doin' somethin' to my head
Yeah, I remember when I was sellin' grams out my gram's
Yeah, fast-forward that, now I'm eatin' lamb inside my Lamb'
Yeah, diamonds on me cold as f*ck, I think I need a sled
Uh, pull the trigger, let it sing, and make a nigga

Dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance)
I looked down at my watch and all I hear it sayin' (what?)
Dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance)
Shit around my neck goin' crazy, dog, all it do is
Dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance)
Dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance)
Dance (bitch), dance (bitch), dance (dance), dance (dance)
Dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (dance), dance (twerk)

Yeah
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Elgin Williams, Markeyvius Cathey, Adolph Thornton Jr., Kenneth Greene, Jay Fizzle, Joddy Badass, Big Moochie Grape
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




333

[Joddy Badass]
Joddy, I love you, Joddy
I love you
You full of lyrics (Uh)
You full of style
You full of patan (Uh)
Me nah tell nuh lie
(Let the BandPlay)

[Joddy Badass]
Premature prima donnas
Always get into drama
Never needed a nigga, eat solo at Benihana's
This pussy is a Lambo, your baby mama a Honda
Sorry, your Honor, killing these bitches, ain't catching karma
Said I got rhymes like Shonda
So they get psyched like Wanda
Smoking on opp pack so you bitches is marijuana
All you bitches is ganja
All you bitches is goners
Word to JJ and mama
I stunt whenever I wanna
Now, all these bird bitches getting pissed off
Steady writing diss bars
Worried 'bout me, sis, worry 'bout that discharge (Discharge)
Whеn the last time you seen a baddie going this hard?
I ain't havе to f*ck a nigga just to get my shit off
I ain't have to catch corona, niggas know I'm ill (Ill)
I ain't have to date a nigga just to get my deal (Deal)
Who the f*ck is Joddy? Just know that I'm real (Real)
Who the f*ck is Joddy? Just know that I'm real


[Joddy Badass]
333 in Atlanta
I've been running bands up
Riding with my brodie, mixing codeine in that Fanta
Who the f*ck is Joddy? They about to get the answer
333 in Atlanta
I've been running bands up
Bitches on my page, watching fakes throwing tantrums
Who the f*ck is Joddy? They about to get the answer

Pop it for a profit (Pop it)
Young pretty and chocolate (Mmm)
He said that he love it here (Love it) even though I'm toxic (Toxic)
Got him breaking bread just to fly me out to tropics (Uh)
That other bitch could never (Never), so I always be a topic (Could never)
Pussy just like water, I mean Fiji and Essentia (Mmm)
I put it on that nigga, now he suffer from dementia (Gone)
He said that I'm so tempting, now his ex them got a temper
Neck colder than December (Brr), he'll be gone until November (Uh)
Head made him crazy in the head, he unstable (Loco)
Joddy got her own bag, got no need to date you (Facts, nah)
Never been fiend for a title or a label (Never)
It's Paper Route business, you should mind the business that pays you (Yeah, mind it)
High heels on and my foot is on they neck (Uh-huh, neck)
And I put that on foot, I'ma always pay respect
Little baby out of Haiti, all we know is how to flex
And I'm bossy from the flossy and they saying that I'm next

[Joddy Badass]
333 in Atlanta
I've been running bands up
Riding with my brodie, mixing codeine in that Fanta
Who the f*ck is Joddy? They about to get the answer
333 in Atlanta
I've been running bands up
Bitches on my page, watching fakes throwing tantrums
Who the f*ck is Joddy? They about to get the answer

(BandPlay)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher




Ashtray

(Sosa 808)

I do it so effortless (easy)
I pour that Wock'-Wock' up and don't even have to measure it (yeah)
Your favorite rapper and your boyfriend
I be fresher than (killin' them niggas)
I made a lot of money with my Mexicans (Vatos)
Convertible foreign (yeah)
Young nigga, the world is yours (yeah, yeah)
My bitch, she spoiled (yeah)
And me, yeah, I'm on the Forbes (yeah)
Been goin' through some shit
So all I do is drink lean and try to drink the problems away
Roll a blunt every thirty minutes
Tryna dump my problems in the ashtray (in the ashtray)
All I've been doin' thinkin' 'bout a hundred million, nigga
I ain't been gettin' no sleep
Got an Uzi up under my seat
Unlocked the new Stingray
But I had to park it for a second, hopped back in my Demon (yeah)
Boy, your name 'round here ringin' (yeah, yeah)
Yeah, these niggas 'round here singin'

I'm the young nigga whose name be ringin' like bells
These hoes tryna eat my semen (yeah)
In the trap, nigga, with a whole lot of dirty money
Put it in the dishwasher, yeah, I'm tryna clean it (trap)
Nigga said I'm broke, well, you gotta be dreamin' (what?)
F*ckin' off the property, you don't see my bling-blingin'?
Cold-ass nigga, got these f*ck niggas steamin' (ice)
Big boy racks, got these f*ck niggas teamin' up
His money, his money, nah, nigga, my money
These niggas ain't even seen enough
His bitch and his bitch gon' come and suck my dick
'Cause these niggas don't make 'em scream enough (ugh)
Niggas can't catch up, I ain't even movin'
So what you gon' do when I speed shit up? (Okay)
And I ain't worried 'bout nobody playin'
My young niggas ready to heat shit up
I be tryna tell 'em don't crash
They livin' like they in they last day
My young niggas know that I got 'em forever
I'm havin' more bags than a trash day (on God)
Ayy, nigga, the world is ours
These niggas ain't f*ckin' with us on my bad day (no)
And if any nigga say they want some smoke
We gon' put them lil' boys in the ashtray

And if any nigga say they want some smoke
We gon' put them lil' boys in the ashtray
And if any nigga say they want some smoke
We gon' put them lil' boys in the ashtray
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Adolph Thornton Jr., Kenneth Greene
Copyright: Lyrics © BMG Rights Management, Peermusic Publishing, Reservoir Media Management, Inc.




Standing Ovation

(Let the BandPlay)
Yessir

No nine to five, boy, every day a payday (No nine to five)
Bad bitch eat the dick up like a Payday (Bad bitch)
R&B chopper, get to singing like Ray J (Grah, grah)
Bad bitch on my side, yeah, my Beyoncé (My Beyoncé)
Only thing I'm dealing really with is the gunplay
Got your main bitch on my dick feeling my feng shui (Your bitch)
Ran it up, got my bands right on the runway (Run it up, run it up)
Always knew I was gon' get rich one day
Ran it up, got my bands right on the runway (Yessir)
Always knew I was gon' be rich one day (Yessir, yessir)
Ran it up, got my bands right on the runway (Yeah, yeah)
Always knew I was gon' be rich one day (Yessir, yessir)
I deserve me a standing ovation the way I stayed down and I stayed dedicated
Lil' nigga, don't try to follow my whip 'cause they itch if you ride behind me, this them Haitians (Don't try to follow my whip, Haitians)

Big Moochie Grape come straight out the dope game (Big Moochie)
Got a shooter with me and he killing off cocaine
I've been balling like a motherf*cker, think I need Rogaine
Sitting back like a fat man smoking propane (Sitting back)
Call up Johnny Dang, tell him that I need another chain (Call up Johnny)
You can see I've been winning, look at my Paper Route reign (Uh, uh)
Young niggas with me sixteen, nothin' but gun sling (Sixteen)
Don't know nothin' but ape shit and the gangbang
Whole gang-gang with the shit, yeah, we untamed (Paper Route)
Pull up on a nigga, do a murder out the Mulsanne (Grah, grah)
Maison Margielas, they came with no shoestring (Maison Margielas)
2020 CL, this bitch take up two lanes (2020)
Lil' nigga mad 'cause I'm f*cking on his boo thing (Bitch)
Get the f*ck out my ear, don't wanna hear none of your fu game (Get the f*ck out my ear)
Paper Route gang-gang pull up at the Blue Flame (Paper Route)
With the blue thing, can't hang 'cause you're too lame (Yessir)

No nine to five, boy, every day a payday (No nine to five)
Bad bitch eat the dick up like a Payday (Bad bitch)
R&B chopper, get to singing like Ray J (Grah, grah)
Bad bitch on my side, yeah, my Beyoncé (My Beyoncé)
Only thing I'm dealing really with is the gunplay
Got your main bitch on my dick feeling my feng shui (Your bitch)
Ran it up, got my bands right on the runway (Run it up, run it up)
Always knew I was gon' get rich one day
Ran it up, got my bands right on the runway (Yessir)
Always knew I was gon' be rich one day (Yessir, yessir)
Ran it up, got my bands right on the runway (Yeah, yeah)
Always knew I was gon' be rich one day (Yessir, yessir)
I deserve me a standing ovation the way I stayed down and I stayed dedicated
Lil' nigga, don't try to follow my whip 'cause they itch if you ride behind me, this them Haitians (Don't try to follow my whip, Haitians)

Lil' nigga know he not gang, he can't hang around (Nah)
Post up AB in the trap, we got hella pounds (AB)
You ain't from 'round, so nigga, you out of bounds (Bitch)
I send my lil' homie, then watch his ass run you down (Baow)
Young nigga walk up on 'em with a pool stick (Yeah, yeah), only wanna tell, don't wanna do shit (Yessir)
Big Moochie Grape really that nigga that do this (Big Moochie) and get your whole damn crew hit (Yeah, yeah)
Me and my gang, we coming too litty (Yeah, yeah), we only f*ck with bitches that coming pretty (Yessir)
She wanna f*ck with me 'cause she see my pockets (Yeah, yeah), they stuffed with them fifties, young nigga, let's get it (They stuffed with them fifties)
Run to the trap house, beat the whole pack out (Run to the trap house)
Balling so hard, you could call me Moochie Stackhouse (Swish, swish)
Run to the trap house, beat the whole pack out (Yeah, yeah)
Balling so hard, you could call me Moochie Stackhouse (Swish, swish)


No nine to five, boy, every day a payday (No nine to five)
Bad bitch eat the dick up like a Payday (Bad bitch)
R&B chopper, get to singing like Ray J (Grah, grah)
Bad bitch on my side, yeah, my Beyoncé (My Beyoncé)
Only thing I'm dealing really with is the gunplay
Got your main bitch on my dick feeling my feng shui (Your bitch)
Ran it up, got my bands right on the runway (Run it up, run it up)
Always knew I was gon' get rich one day
Ran it up, got my bands right on the runway (Yessir)
Always knew I was gon' be rich one day (Yessir, yessir)
Ran it up, got my bands right on the runway (Yeah, yeah)
Always knew I was gon' be rich one day (Yessir, yessir)
I deserve me a standing ovation the way I stayed down and I stayed dedicated
Lil' nigga, don't try to follow my whip 'cause they itch if you ride behind me, this them Haitians (Don't try to follow my whip, Haitians)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher




Big Ol Racks

[PaperRoute Woo]
Yo
I ran out of ice
You know what I'm saying?
I'm sick of these f*ck niggas talking 'bout they doing this and doing that
You know what I'm saying?
I'm getting- You know what I'm saying? (Let the BandPlay)
I'm getting the

[PaperRoute Woo]
Big ol' racks (Racks)
Young nigga really getting big ol' stacks (Stacks)
And them big ol' facts (Facts)
You other niggas lame, y'all big ol' cap (Cap)
Big ol' racks (Racks)
Young nigga really getting big ol' stacks (Stacks)
And them big ol' facts (Facts)
You other niggas lame, y'all big ol' cap (Cap)
Big ol' racks (Racks)
Young nigga really getting big ol' stacks (Stacks)
And them big ol' facts (Facts)
You other niggas lame, y'all big ol' cap (Cap)
Big ol' racks (Racks)
Young nigga really getting big ol' stacks (Stacks)
And them big ol' facts (Facts)
You other niggas lame, y'all big ol' cap (Yep)

[PaperRoute Woo]
Big ol' racks (Big ol')
I'm really getting money and them big ol' facts (Facts)
And I got big old straps (Straps)
Run up on me, get your shit pushed back (Pushed back)
Uh, then back to the cash (The cash)
I gotta go get it 'causе I want the bag (The bag)
That other shit irrеlevant, why is you telling me? Nigga be going out sad
I know a lot of rapping-ass niggas, real trapping-ass niggas, get-you-whacked-ass niggas, got-your-back-ass niggas
I got nothing to prove (Nothing to prove)
I can hold my own (Hold my own)
Smelling like some new kush is my cologne (Gas)
I'm so in my zone
I can't do nothing wrong (Uh-uh)
Niggas telling on they fam, what type of shit you on? (Pussy)
This that can't be cloned, this that, bitch, I'm grown
This that f*cking with the wrong nigga, don't you see the throne?
Best you leave me 'lone
Feeling like Al Capone
That was set in the stone
I might set the tone
Two phones, money long
Three traps, that's the type of shit we on (Booming)
Get it in, get it gone (Get it gone)
Shoot your shot, I'm playing zone (Zone)
Niggas hate 'cause I'm on ('Cause I'm on)
And I ain't even dropped a song (Dropped a song)
But I got a bag, though (Bag, though)
Been trapping out them bandos (Bandos)
Serving out the backdoor (Backdoors)
Serving all your kinfolk (Your kinfolks)
That got me

[PaperRoute Woo]
Big ol' racks (Racks)
Young nigga really getting big ol' stacks (Stacks)
And them big ol' facts (Facts)
You other niggas lame, y'all big ol' cap (Cap)
Big ol' racks (Racks)
Young nigga really getting big ol' stacks (Stacks)
And them big ol' facts (Facts)
You other niggas lame, y'all big ol' cap (Cap)

[Key Glock]
Ayy, big ol' racks
Big ol' Franklin, Grants, and Jacks
Yeah, big ol' stacks
Big ol' straps, they go, "Blatt-blatt"
Yeah, big ol' checks
Big ol' check that I just cashed
Yeah, big baguettes
Big boy baguettes around my neck, yeah
Smoke a lot of dope like Craig (Dope)
I might put a brick on your head, yeah (Oh, yeah, yeah)
Bitch, I get a whole lot of bread (Bitch)
Balling hard, but I ain't break a sweat, yeah (Uh-uh, yeah)
Sipping on a whole lotta red (Mud)
Got a whole lot of hoes in the bed, yeah
Damn, I need a new set of legs, yeah
'Cause I've been running, running up them

[PaperRoute Woo]
Big ol' racks (Racks)
Young nigga really getting big ol' stacks (Stacks)
And them big ol' facts (Facts)
You other niggas lame, y'all big ol' cap (Cap)
Big ol' racks (Racks)
Young nigga really getting big ol' stacks (Stacks)
And them big ol' facts (Facts)
You other niggas lame, y'all big ol' cap (Cap)
Big ol' racks (Racks)
Young nigga really getting big ol' stacks (Stacks)
And them big ol' facts (Facts)
You other niggas lame, y'all big ol' cap (Cap)
Big ol' racks (Racks)
Young nigga really getting big ol' stacks (Stacks)
And them big ol' facts (Facts)
You other niggas lame, y'all big ol' cap (Yep)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher




J Lo

The lyrics for this song are yet to be released.
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Copyright: Lyrics © Original Writer and Publisher




Broccoli and Cheese

(Buddah blessed this beat)
Yeah
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Yeah
Yeah, ayy (Yeah)

We outside, smokin' Indo (Yeah)
Yeah, pocket full of C-notes, all the nines came with extendos (Yeah)
Chopper on the backseat, gang'nem shootin' shit like B-roll (Yeah)
I come from a city, we don't trick, nigga, we pimp hoes (Yeah)
Six figures in my earlobes (Yeah)
And thirty in my Glock (Yeah)
I told the bitch I'm single, but be sleepin' with my chop
I fell in love with codeine, shit, I might invest in Wock'
Yeah, I fell in love with hustlin' and I don't plan on stoppin'
Bitch, I'm gettin' that broccoli (Yeah), and cheese (Yeah)
I be flexin' hard, bitch, I do this shit with ease (Yeah)
You's a peon, nigga, yeah, I'm a P (Yeah)
You's a peon, nigga, I'm a P (Ayy), don't get put on a tee

I'm pourin' drop inside my drop, higher than an astronaut
In my own world like Travis Scott
They like, "Glock, you dope as f*ck," might catch me jumpin' out the pot
Oops, I mean jumpin' out the drop
Yeah, iced out Rollie 41, least the size a hockey puck
"Why the f*ck they call you Glock and you keep an FN with you?"
Bitch, I'm cutthroat to the bone, yeah, bitch, I'm cutthroat to the gristle
It's the middle of the summer, hold my wrist up, now it's winter
It's the middle of the summer, I walk in the building, make it blizzard (Woo)
These niggas monkey in the middle, I'm pourin' up a cup of fizzle
Rollin' up a blunt of Skittles, me, Bart and a couple bitches
Eighteen, locked down in the system, now I'm one rich-ass lil' nigga
Niggas dissin', got me tickled, boy, you in the house

We outside, smokin' Indo (Yeah)
Yeah, pocket full of C-notes, all the nines came with extendos (Yeah)
Chopper on the backseat, gang'nem shootin' shit like B-roll (Yeah)
I come from a city, we don't trick, nigga, we pimp hoes (Yeah)
Six figures in my earlobes (Ooh)
And thirty in my Glock
I told the bitch I'm single, but be sleepin' with my chop
I fell in love with codeine, shit, I might invest in Wock'
Yeah, I fell in love with hustlin' and I don't plan on stoppin' (Uh-uh)
Bitch, I'm gettin' that broccoli (Yeah), and cheese (Yeah)

Yeah, yeah
And cheese, yeah, yeah, yeah
And cheese
G-Lock
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Adolph Thornton Jr., Markeyvius Cathey
Copyright: Lyrics © EMPIRE PUBLISHING




Trust Nobody

I don't put nothin' past none of these niggas
(Let the BandPlay)
Man, I couldn't trust a bitch if I wanted to

Trust nobody (nobody)
Trust nobody (nobody)
Trust nobody (nobody)
Trust nobody (nobody)
Trust nobody (nobody)
Trust nobody (nobody)
Trust nobody (nobody)
Trust nobody (nah)
All them straps and you ain't never shot at nobody (damn)
I got thirty racks a piece in all four pockets (yeah)
I took that ho to the hotel, you took that ho shoppin' (damn)
He turnt up on the 'Gram, in real life, he a nobody (okay)

Jumped up out the bed, grabbed my pistol, told her, "I'll be back" (uh)
I just keep pounds at her house, nah, that ain't where I sleep at (nah)
Niggas showin' fake love, it ain't hard for me to peep that (ayy)
Just know I'm ready to put one in your dome, nigga, believe that (yeah, yeah)
He was a big dog, but he turned into a rat (damn)
She was skinny-minny, but that booty done got fat (damn)
I was dead broke, but now I'm havin' them rizacks
Bought a mansion by the water just so I can go relax (Dolph)
Can I leave a million at your house and you won't touch it? (Huh?)
Is you around for the money or do you really love me? (Huh?)
I left the Wock' at the house, man, tonight we drinkin' bubbly (ace)
Run up if you want, it's gon' get ugly

Trust nobody (nobody)
Trust nobody (nobody)
Trust nobody (nobody)
Trust nobody (nobody)
Trust nobody (nobody)
Trust nobody (nobody)
Trust nobody (nobody)
Trust nobody (nah)
All them straps and you ain't never shot at nobody (damn)
I got thirty racks a piece in all four pockets (yeah)
I took that ho to the hotel, you took that ho shoppin' (damn)
He turnt up on the 'Gram, in real life, he a nobody (okay)

Yeah, he a nobody (a nobody)
Say he put in work, but I don't know 'bout it (I don't know 'bout it)
Rock a show then sell a 'bow, nigga
What you know about it? (What you know about it?)
All my diamonds crystal clear, lil' nigga
Your shit partly cloudy (partly cloudy)
And I'll slime a nigga out for real
Ain't no doubt about it (yeah, yeah, ain't no doubt about it)
Pulled up Hellcat, f*ck a Audi (f*ck a Audi)
Took a hit, didn't do no power (do no power)
Shoot first, I ain't with that mouthin' (with that mouthin')
Trick off, I don't know nothin' about it (nothin' about it)
What you know about goin' house to house
Sleepin' on niggas' couches? (Yeah, on niggas' couches)
Yeah, while niggas flexin' for the 'Gram (flexin' for the 'gram)
Say you havin', but you are not takin' care of the fam (lame-ass nigga)
I don't f*ck with pork no more, but I still got that ham (yeah)
Spend a forty with the plug, remember I used to buy grams (yeah, grams)
And I'm havin' in real life, nigga, not just on the 'Gram (on God)

Trust nobody (nobody)
Trust nobody (nobody)
Trust nobody (nobody)
Trust nobody (nobody)
Trust nobody (nobody)
Trust nobody (nobody)
Trust nobody (nobody)
Trust nobody (nah)
All them straps and you ain't never shot at nobody (damn)
I got thirty racks a piece in all four pockets (yeah)
I took that ho to the hotel, you took that ho shoppin' (damn)
He turnt up on the 'gram, in real life, he a nobody (damn, okay)

I can't trust a nigga or a bitch, that's how it is, yeah (nah)
You can't get your feelings involved when you chasin' mills, yeah (for real)
I was in the trap for real before I signed my deal, yeah
Now a nigga rap hustlin', no more vacuum seals, yeah (no more)
Yeah, I'm on the road, I'm finna blow (yeah)
Yeah, I know these niggas envy me, so I can't trust a soul (nah)
Gotta keep this Glocky tucked, these niggas hate me on the low (on gang)
They gon' smile in your face 'cause niggas scared to let it show (let it show)
Don't put your trust up in a ho, these bitches ain't shit, they dick to dick (to dick)
I can't trust none of these hoes, I'll burn her head clutchin' my stick (Glocky)
Yeah, one hand on my Glock and the other hand on her wig (her wig)
Put this dick in your mouth, shut up ho, swallow my kids (kids)

Trust nobody (nobody)
Trust nobody (nobody, damn)
Trust nobody (nobody)
Trust nobody (nobody, on God)
Trust nobody (nobody)
Trust nobody (nobody)
Trust nobody (nobody)
Trust nobody (nah, for real)
All them straps and you ain't never shot at nobody (damn)
I got thirty racks a piece in all four pockets (yeah)
I took that ho to the hotel, you took that ho shoppin' (damn)
He turnt up on the 'Gram, in real life, he a nobody (okay)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Adolph Thornton Jr., Elgin Williams, PaperRoute Woo
Copyright: Lyrics © DOUGH MENTALITY GROUP




Here We Go

Paper Route Frank (Montana Corleone made this one)
Yeah, what up?
(Ayy, Sosa, man, this beat crazy)

The first thing I did, I went and got me a zip (bitch)
The second thing I did, I went and took me a trip
He owed me money, I said don't ball, just shoot the shit up off the rip (bitch)
Shorty got the best massage, she do it with her lips (shit)
Sittin' in my office smokin' blunts like I'm Bill Clinton
My side bitch start catchin' feelings, I had to tell her chill (Lewinsky)
She sick (ugh), ill (ill), murder (woah), kill (kill)
All of my trap money go to my kids, it's in my will (it's Dolph)
Lodi, dodi, dodi (dodi), no, I didn't go to college (nah)
But I might wake up tomorrow, go buy another 'Rari (yeah)
My side bitch drive a Mase' (yeah)
She a pretty girl and all she wanna do is party (yeah)
Super-bad bitch and she know she an alcoholic (hey)
Hold up, who that callin'? (Brrt)
F*ck that, back to ballin' (f*ck that)
Lil' mama from New Orlaans (Creole)
Bury me in a Dolce & Gabbana coffin (Gabbana)
We in competition on who can pour the drank the rawest (raw)
Four hundred racks for a coupe, didn't test drive it, I just bought it (what?)
A nigga say they f*ckin' with the kid, shit, I doubt it
Crossed a bad bitch out for another one, GPS re-routin'
Now she sittin' at home like a bad-ass kid poutin' (uh-huh)

Here we go, here we go, here we go (hey, hey)
Here we go, here we go, here we go (hey, hey)
Here we go, here we go, here we go (hey, hey)
Here we go, here we motherf*ckin' go (bitch, bitch)

Free all my lil' niggas locked down up in that celly (ayy)
All my straps out 'cause all my lil' niggas villains (yeah-yeah)
Don't dodge no smoke, no questions asked when steppers steppin' (step on 'em)
Just like Little Caesars with my gang, we hot-n-ready
Carbon 15, and it came with the drum on it
Young niggas gone off the Perc' goin' dumb on 'em (Perkies)
Just bought a Glock, that bitch came with a switch on it
Sent my lil' nigga, I bet he don't miss on it
I stack up that bread like some motherf*ckin' Pringles (rackades)
I used to be robbin' and starvin' and dealin' (on God)
I was just breakin' in houses and stealin' (that was back then)
Now the boy ridin' on the road to the riches (big racks)
Just 'cause I'm rappin', don't get it confused
Still'll mask up and go pull me a move (I'm still with it)
I do my show on the stage with the tools
Move and no question big daddy gon' shoot
Big dawg in my hood, man, they call me the truth
I'll make this bangin' shit out here look cool
Make niggas sick, man, I feel like the flu
Put a opp face on the motherf*ckin' news (bye bye)

Here we go, here we go, here we go (hey, hey)
Here we go, here we go, here we go (hey, hey)
Here we go, here we go, here we go (hey, hey)
Here we go, here we motherf*ckin' go (bitch)

They ain't let us in, so we kickin' down the back door
We ain't never stop for the po-po (nah)
Walk in the spot, you see two hundred Ps
Yeah, my trap goin' loco
Crazy, yeah, we trappin' hard like the eighties (trap)
My young niggas strapped like the navy
I'm a go get it, I don't have no patience (go get it)
I'm the type of nigga go get it, what I'm waitin' on?
Yeah, went and got a plug and now my money long (money long)
These niggas can't f*ck with me, I'm in the zone (zone)
These niggas can't f*ck with me, I keep my chrome (chrome)
I keep me a foreign bitch, bad to the bone (bone)
Man, for real (bitch), yeah, yeah
First I got a zip
Then I made a couple flips and took a trip
All these icy bitches lovin' how I drip (icy, drip)
I keep switchin' foreign whips with a big Glock on my hip
Extended clip, get up out my way, f*ck how you feel (yeah)
I'm in the fast lane road-runnin' to the mils (to the Ms)

Here we go, here we go, here we go (hey, hey)
Here we go, here we go, here we go (hey, hey)
Here we go, here we go, here we go (hey, hey)
Here we go, here we motherf*ckin' go (bitch, bitch)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Adolph Thornton Jr., Elgin Williams, Jay Fizzle
Copyright: Lyrics © Songtrust Ave




Show Out

(Ayy, Sosa, man, this beat crazy)
BANDZ

You know I gotta show out (show out)
Big bankroll when I go out (big racks)
Posted on the block with them poles out (big Glocks)
Made it out the trap, I'm on the road now (outta here)
I'm a trap star, I'm doin' shows now (trap star)
Real trap nigga doin' shows now (real trap nigga)
Get the whole gang rich, yeah, it's goin' down (yeah)
Paper Route the mob, yeah, we run the town (yeah)
You know I gotta show out (show out)
Big bankroll when I go out (big racks)
Posted on the block with them poles out
Made it out the trap, I'm on the road now (outta here)
I'm a trap star, I'm doin' shows now (trap star)
Real trap nigga doin' shows now (real trap nigga)
Get the whole gang rich, yeah, it's goin' down (yeah)
Paper Route the mob, yeah, we run the town (yeah)

I'ma get the whole gang rich and buy some more sticks (yeah)
Young nigga lit, all these hoes on my dick (young nigga lit)
I'ma f*ck your bitch and make a flick (yeah)
Ice all on my body, it'll make a nigga sick
.223 with the scope, it came with a cooling kit (baow-baow)
All that talkin', gun you down, turn you to an outfit (yeah)
Seen you talkin' to them boys, you ain't gangsta, you a snitch
Yeah, you the police (you the police)
Cartier on my wrist, f*ck a Rollie (Cartier)
Nigga hatin' on me, don't even know me (f*ck 'em)
Ballin' hard on these niggas like Kobe (Kobe)
I be slammin' them packs like LeBron (two-three)
Long range, I'm shootin' shit like Trae Young
Boy, you nothin' like me, I'm a one-of-one (one-of-one)
For real (yeah, you ain't f*ckin' with me, I'm a one-of-one)
Yeah, don't see no nigga f*ckin' with the kid (nah)
And we ballin' out, all a nigga know is win (ball hard)
Had to kill an opp, Lord, forgive me for my sins
Still the same nigga, used to trap out the van (trap)
Now I pull up and skrrt off in the 'Vette (skrrt-skrrt)
These niggas scared 'cause they know I'm a threat (yeah)
These niggas scared 'cause they know I'ma blow (yeah)
Straight out the bando, now I'm rockin' shows (I'm rockin' shows)

You know I gotta show out (show out)
Big bankroll when I go out (big racks)
Posted on the block with them poles out (big Glocks)
Made it out the trap, I'm on the road now (outta here)
I'm a trap star, I'm doin' shows now (trap star)
Real trap nigga doin' shows now (real trap nigga)
Get the whole gang rich, yeah, it's goin' down (yeah)
Paper Route the mob, yeah, we run the town (yeah)
You know I gotta show out (show out)
Big bankroll when I go out (big racks)
Posted on the block with them poles out
Made it out the trap, I'm on the road now (outta here)
I'm a trap star, I'm doin' shows now (trap star)
Real trap nigga doin' shows now (real trap nigga)
Get the whole gang rich, yeah, it's goin' down (yeah)
Paper Route the mob, yeah, we run the town (yeah)

(Frank)
Bitch, we the mob
Dope boy, spend a hundred racks on a Dodge
Gettin' head in the demon while I parallel park
I make it look easy, but I had it hard
Smokin' a blunt while I'm talkin' to God
Swervin' down the road, got a trunk full of 'bows
Just drunk me a four, tryin' my best not to nod
Trappers and shooters, that's all on my squad (yeah, yeah)
All I do is show out (for real, though)
A hour from the back, now she wore out (for real, though)
Skeeted in her eye, she say I'm low down (for real, though)
Charge a hundred racks for a show now (for real, though)
I signed SNUPE and told him put the load down (for real, though)
I'm way way too up nowadays, but if I bump into the wrong nigga
It's gon' go down (go down, bitch)
Gettin' money like I'm doin' rock and roll now (it's Dolph)
Slidin' through with them choppers, I'm in your town (it's Dolph)
Ballin' like a nigga signed to Motown (it's Dolph)
They ain't wanna let us in, we kicked the door down (uh)
Doggin' bitches like I'm Nino Brown (uh)
A hundred mil' on my mind this go 'round (uh)
Left my homeboy all the plugs, so now
He in the hood with the work for the low now (ayy, ayy)

You know I gotta show out (show out)
Big bankroll when I go out (big racks)
Posted on the block with them poles out (big Glocks)
Made it out the trap, I'm on the road now (outta here)
I'm a trap star, I'm doin' shows now (trap star)
Real trap nigga doin' shows now (real trap nigga)
Get the whole gang rich, yeah, it's goin' down (yeah)
Paper Route the mob, yeah, we run the town (yeah)
You know I gotta show out (show out)
Big bankroll when I go out (big racks)
Posted on the block with them poles out
Made it out the trap, I'm on the road now (outta here)
I'm a trap star, I'm doin' shows now (trap star)
Real trap nigga doin' shows now (real trap nigga)
Get the whole gang rich, yeah, it's goin' down (yeah)
Paper Route the mob, yeah, we run the town (yeah)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Adolph Thornton Jr., Elgin Williams
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




Freeze Tag

(Sosa 808)

Just told my bro that this money and hoes don't last (M-O-B)
I told him get up out his feelings and go get a bag
Ayy, I'm a hustling-ass nigga, you can blame my dad (on God)
Got baguettes in my Richard, diamonds playing freeze tag (HitKidd, what it do, man?)

Sitting in the 600 with the seat back
Yeah, when I first seen that Rolls truck, I'm like, "I need that"
Yeah, sipping codeine, my bitch like, "Glock, you don't need that"
Yeah, six years old, I told the teacher, "Suck my weenus"
Soon as I got home, my grandma gave me a beating
Bad lil' mothef*cker, yup (Bitch), I beat it
I'm married to the money 'cause most of these hoes is skeezy
You know I'm so icy, but a nigga don't know Jeezy
Ayy, I be rocking Gucci, mane, I make this shit look easy
My young niggas ruthless, ayy, please, please, believe me
Ice cubes in my watch and chain got a nigga freezing
Ice cubes in my watch and chain got a nigga freezing
F*ck your verse, nigga, I'll never do a remix
Niggas know that I don't f*ck with 'em and I don't pretend
Niggas know that I don't f*ck with 'em, it ain't a secret
Niggas know that I don't f*ck with 'em, it ain't a secret
Ayy, gang members shooting shit up, where your defense?
Damn, Glock, these niggas hating on you, yeah, I peeped it
Big Glock with the switch up on it, I ain't missing shit
I'm always on point, nigga, I don't even miss a bitch
So what? Still be hitting licks
Self-made, nothing like these shrimps
I'm balling on these lil' niggas, f*ck around and windmill
I just bought another foreign, swerve that bitch, look like a Hot Wheel
I walked up in the party, bitches started doing cartwheels

Told my bro that this money and these hoes don't last
Told him, "Get up out your feelings, nigga, go and get a bag"
Ayy, I'm a hustling-ass nigga, baby, you can blame my dad
I got baguettes in my Richard, diamonds playing freeze tag (Yeah)
Told my bro that this money and these hoes don't last
Told him, "Get up out your feelings, nigga, go and get a bag"
Ayy, I'm a hustling-ass nigga, baby, you can blame my dad
I got baguettes in my Richard, diamonds playing freeze tag

G-lock
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Adolph Thornton Jr., Markeyvius Cathey
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




Nothing To Me

(Ayy, yo, BandPlay)
Paper Route Frank
(Band, Band)
It's Dolph

These niggas ain't f*ckin' with me (uh-uh)
These niggas ain't f*ckin' with me (uh-uh)
These niggas ain't f*ckin' with me (uh-uh)
These niggas ain't f*ckin' with me (uh-uh)
These niggas ain't f*ckin' with me (uh-uh)
These niggas ain't f*ckin' with me (uh-uh)
These niggas ain't f*ckin' with me (uh-uh)
These niggas ain't f*ckin' with me (nah)

I dropped the location, she pulled up in thirty minutes
Now she suckin' on me (woo)
Now I don't need nobody to do nothin' for me
Nigga, I'm bustin' for me (fire)
I went and got it and put my tax on it
Nigga, I don't do nothin' for free (bitch)
The Double R truck sit in front of the mansion
I cashed out four hunnid Gs (bitch)
You catch a body, I'm gon' pay the bail and the lawyer
It's nothin' to me (for real, though)
I'm a rich nigga, I'm greedy as f*ck
So I get what I want and I need (for real, though)
These niggas ain't f*ckin' with me
In twenty-four hours, sold a hunnid Ps (a hundo)
These niggas ain't f*ckin' with me
Can't f*ck with a dog bitch, she give you fleas (bitch)
Just a street nigga with millions on deck (Frank)
Too many chains, this shit hurtin' my neck (damn)
Courtside, watchin' the Lakers and Nets (yeah)
When I'm in the air, only time that I rest
I can't be trickin' on none of these bitches
I'm with my grandma, count a mill' on the check (ayy)
I can sell dope out any apartment in my hood
'Cause that's where they love me at

These niggas ain't f*ckin' with me (uh-uh)
These niggas ain't f*ckin' with me (uh-uh)
These niggas ain't f*ckin' with me (uh-uh)
These niggas ain't f*ckin' with me (uh-uh)
These niggas ain't f*ckin' with me (uh-uh)
These niggas ain't f*ckin' with me (uh-uh)
These niggas ain't f*ckin' with me (uh-uh)
These niggas ain't f*ckin' with me (nah)

I dropped the location, she pulled up in thirty minutes
Now she suckin' on me (woo)
She got her own bag, she bad with a fat ass
She probably f*ckin' on me (maybe)
These bitches ain't nothin' to me (uh-uh)
These bitches ain't nothin' to me (uh-uh)
These bitches ain't nothin' to me (uh-uh)
These niggas ain't f*ckin' with me (nah) (BANDZ)

These niggas ain't f*ckin' with me
Came in the game, knockin' shit out, Muhammad Ali
I stay fly like a butterfly, sting like a bee
Got my own style, there won't ever be another me (nah)
Too much sauce, young nigga got the recipe, yeah (too much)
Big drip, nah, I ain't lackin', thirty shots in my clip (nah)
Hit 'em with the Drac', it gon' take a nigga limb (bah, bah)
These niggas ain't f*ckin' with me (nah)
I came in the game with a bag (big bag)
Cashed out on a 'Vette, I'm still ridin' paper tags
Never goin' back, bruh, I left that shit up in the past (nah)
I ain't stoppin' for them boys 'cause the coupe too fast (skrrt, I'm gone)
Call me John Cena 'cause these niggas ain't see me
Nothin' like these niggas, I'm alien, E.T. (E.T.)
Ice on my neck poppin' out like 3D, yeah (ice)
These niggas ain't f*ckin' with me on my worst day
I get the cake, every day, it's my birthday (cake)
Play with the mob, shake the spot like a earthquake (murder)
C-Murder with me in the coupe with a Drac' (Drac')
Usually in the cut with a dirty K (dirty K)
Usually get by, you won't get away (nah)
Choppers on deck and a young nigga paid (a young nigga paid)

These niggas ain't f*ckin' with me (on the gang)
These niggas ain't f*ckin' with me (on the mob)
These niggas ain't f*ckin' with me (on the gang)
These niggas ain't f*ckin' with me (on the mob)
These niggas ain't f*ckin' with me (on the gang)
These niggas ain't f*ckin' with me (murder)
These niggas ain't f*ckin' with me (murder)
These niggas ain't f*ckin' with me (murder)

I dropped the location, she pulled up in thirty minutes
Now she suckin' on me (woo)
She got her own bag, she bad with a fat ass
She probably f*ckin' on me (maybe)
These bitches ain't nothin' to me (uh-uh)
These bitches ain't nothin' to me (uh-uh) (on gang)
These bitches ain't nothin' to me (uh-uh) (on gang)
These niggas ain't f*ckin' with me (nah) (on gang)

These niggas ain't f*ckin' with me (nope)
Twenty K, it ain't nothin' to me (it's not)
Youngins with me, they be bustin' for me (fire)
VVSs, it's the clusters for me (bling-blaow)
You trickin' off, I done f*cked her for free (no cap)
Bad bitch, she gon' suck it for me (suck it for me)
Js on, nigga, f*ck a release (f*ck a release)
Glocks on me, nigga, it's a .23 (fire)
Still trappin', I can't get out the street (nope)
Take a trip to Cali' every other week
Buy a car, nigga, every other month (every other)
Pay up the plug, I ain't doin' no fronts (no fronts)
Shoot first, I ain't doin' no runnin'
At the clear port with a whole lotta money (whole lotta)
At the clear port with a whole lotta racks (racks)
A whole lotta bands (bands)
One man army, I don't need no man (no man)
Got it out the mud, I ain't need no hand (no hand)
Took my first trip, just me and my plan
Trashed up .40 and the GRAW pants (GRAW pants)
Look at my chain, kill you and your man (you and your man)
Copped the Glock when the G5 land (G5 land)
Drop the top tryna get a little tan (yeah)
Spin the block, and have 'em spin it again (on gang)

These niggas ain't f*ckin' with me (uh-uh)
These niggas ain't f*ckin' with me (uh-uh)
These niggas ain't f*ckin' with me (uh-uh)
These niggas ain't f*ckin' with me (uh-uh)
These niggas ain't f*ckin' with me (uh-uh)
These niggas ain't f*ckin' with me (uh-uh)
These niggas ain't f*ckin' with me (uh-uh)
These niggas ain't f*ckin' with me (nah)

I dropped the location, she pulled up in thirty minutes
Now she suckin' on me (woo)
She got her own bag, she bad with a fat ass
She probably f*ckin' on me (maybe)
These bitches ain't nothin' to me (uh-uh)
These bitches ain't nothin' to me (uh-uh)
These bitches ain't nothin' to me (uh-uh)
These niggas ain't f*ckin' with me (nah)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Adolph Thornton Jr., SNUPE BANDZ, Paperroute Woo
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




South Memphis Rugrats (Remix)

I say what I mean, I mean what I say
Bitch

Gone in sixty seconds, never let a bitch stress me (uh-uh)
Before the microphone, I made a milli' off the celly (yeah)
I love to see her walk away because it look like jelly (shake)
Went from zero to sixty in two seconds on Pirellis
I'm always at the jewelry store, I got a diamond fetish (ice)
Smokin' on this kale while I'm countin' up this lettuce (yeah)
Stack it to the sky, I believe that I can fly
Told the man in the mirror that you one hell of a guy
If I can do it, so can you, but shit, who the hell am I?
Who said it's lonely at the top? 'Cause that's a motherf*ckin' lie
I brought my homeboys with me, ballin' in south Memphis like Dubai
Rolls Royces back-to-back-to-back-to-back, oh my God
(God, God, God, God, God, God, God, God, God)
I mean that shit (God, God, God, God, God, God, God)
Hold up, let me finish (wait)
She so fine, I put it in and tried to touch her kidneys
I'm too motherf*ckin' rich to go and eat at Denny's (what?)
But f*ck that, I'm in a Jack Pirtle's drive-thru in a Bentley (hey)
Front seat got my semi (uh)
Opps, yeah, I got plenty (for real, though)
Playin' with these M's, but I started out with pennies (yeah)
A hundo in my skinnies (yeah)
Louis XIII, shots of top-shelf Remy (yeah)
Grew up thuggin' just like Hoover Deuce, Baby Jimmy
Bitch, hey (hey)

(BANDZ)
Yeah, I grew up thuggin', I'm a South Memphis Rugrat (Rugrat)
Baguettes drippin' on my neck, these bitches love that (drip)
When I pop out, I got big, gigantic, stupid racks (big racks)
F*ck a job, I beat the block, I had to flip a pack (flip it)
Self-made nigga, I'm hustlin' (hustlin')
Can't go back to the days when I ain't have nothin'
But I won't forget 'bout the struggle (nah)
I was just stackin' up racks in the trap in my shoebox
Now I stuff that shit in a duffle (for real)
My plug keep sendin' them loads and I just keep flushin' 'em
Call him back, I need another one (another one)
Ridin' 'round town with a pocket full of Jacksons (hunchos)
I stack up them hundreds and fifties (fifties)
Keep me a Draco, it got a banana clip, and the AR came with titties
Thirty-three shots in my Glock, Scottie Pippen (yeah)
Double my cup, so you know what I'm sippin' (double up)
Really havin' this shit, nigga, no, I ain't trippin' (nah)
Paper Route the mob, nigga, I'm never flippin' (yeah, on gang)

Yeah, I ain't never flippin' (flippin')
Only thing that a young nigga flippin'
Is these motherf*ckin' packs that I'm gettin' (yeah, that I'm gettin')
And I ain't worried 'bout none of these
Lil' broke-ass niggas or these bitches (bitches)
Everything a nigga do out here in these streets, they just gon' mimic (yeah, mimic)
Seventy-five hundred for a show, lil' nigga
Gon' and book me, ain't no gimmick (yeah, no gimmick)
All my cars 6.0s, them bitches V8, yeah, they Hemis (Hemis)
Young nigga really havin' motion, I done served the whole damn Memphis (Memphis)
Make a play with white, it end up bitter or Mac Miller (Mac Miller)
Really made a killin' (a killin'), off of vacuum sealin' (sealin')
Never been in love 'cause I can't really catch no feelings (uh-uh, no feelings)
Never had no nine-to-five 'cause I love drug dealin' (uh-uh, drug dealin')
Been up in that field, lil' nigga, go and ask Lil' Willy (Lil' Willy)
Beat the block up 'til the dope all gone (yeah, yeah)
Trappin' real, real hard off of two phones (yeah, both of 'em)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Adolph Thornton Jr., Elgin Williams, PaperRoute Woo
Copyright: Lyrics © EMPIRE PUBLISHING




ILLUMINATi BUSINESS

(Who made this beat?)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, hey, hey
(Twysted Genius, baby)
Woo
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, gigantic, ha-ha
Yeah, yeah, the biggest (The biggest)
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Big Moochie

Brand new gun, came with automatic switches (Brand new gun)
Carbon one-five, call this bitch a RipStik (Carbon one-five)
Hating-ass nigga gon' die with the bitch shit (Hating-ass nigga)
Hating-ass ho, bye-bye, eat a sick dick (Bye-bye)
Surgeon with the chopper, f*ck around, get a facelift
Post in East Haiti, you know it's not safe here (East Haiti)
Trap house on, ayy, B, we get a lot of cake here
Serving good green and we got that white shit like venereal (Yessir)
Yeah, sipping codeine, not no beers (Codeine)
Uh, shoot his ass down like a deer (Shoot him down)
Uh, hold on, lil' mama, come here (Hold up)
Yeah, I jumped in the streets with nobody, just me
And, yeah, I faced all my fears (On God)
Yeah, mama told me to watch who I'm around (She did)
Yeah, so I cut off my peers (Yeah, I cut me some niggas off)
Yeah, f*ck all that shit, want your life, gotta give it here (F*ck all that shit)
Post in the trap, nothing but dope and the dealers here (Trap, trap)
Truckload, dope sold, yeah, we gon' get it here (Trap, trap)
Quit moving slow with the dope, get the shit in here (Hurry up)
F*ck all that shit, want your life, gotta give it here (Yeah, yeah, yeah)
Post in the trap, nothing but dope and the dealers here
Truckload, dope sold, yeah, we gon' get it here (Truckload, dope sold)
Quit moving slow with the dope, get the shit in here (Nigga, hurry up)
Burn your whole head in the Scat Pack, yeah (Skrrt, skrrt)
Got heavy artillery, back that, yeah (Back that)
Trap house going hard, drop it to the max (Yeah)
Then I sit in this bitch with some Cris' and some thrax (It's 'bout to get crazy)
Stay down like four flats on the Cadillac (Four flat)
And I'm not with the runaround, Moochie not having that (Uh-uh)
Pull up in the Hellcat playing with her kitty cat (Playing with her kitty cat)
Break me a nigga in half like a Kit Kat (Break him in half)
Big money shit, bitch, I'm not with the chit-chat (Big money)
Don't get close to me, lil' cause, push your shit back
I'm tryin' to see where the bales and the bricks at (Bales and the bricks at)
I used to be broke 'til a nigga went and fixed that (I went and fixed that)
Ice on me cold, this shit cost me a ransom (Ice, ice)
Extravagant lifestyle, I'm living it random (Extravagant)
Nigga play guns, then the egg can get scrambled (Egg can get scrambled)
Put this shit all on my back like I'm David Banner (I put this shit all on my back)

Yeah, huh, yeah, huh
Yeah, huh, yeah, huh
Yeah, huh, yeah, huh
Yeah, huh, Big Moochie (Big Moochie, bitch, bitch)
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Illuminati business, yeah, yeah, yeah
Bitch, it's the Illuminati business, look, uh, uh, uh, uh
Illuminati business, uh
Illuminati business, yeah (On God)
Illuminati business, yeah
Yeah (God damn)
[ Correct these Lyrics ]

Writer: Adolph Thornton Jr.
Copyright: Lyrics © Kobalt Music Publishing Ltd.




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