Rowdy Rebel – Jesse Owens Lyrics

Play this song

[Intro: Rowdy Rebel]
Uh, haha, yes, grr, haha, woah
Ah, boom, ah-ah, ha, come on, boom, ayy
Ayo, NAV, what’s up, bro? Backed in my zone
And, yeah, I’ll put some more nigga shit, ah-ah-ah (Gang, brr, huh?)

[Chorus: Rowdy Rebel]
Back in my zone and I’m focused (Uh-huh)
Please don’t start no commotion (Nah)
Y’all playin’, we uppin’, we throwin’ (We throwin’)
Ain’t gotta think twice, I’m blowin’ (Bow-bow-bow-bow-bow, grr)
Me and NAV on a mission to get to the cash, all my money growin’
I done touched down and I ran up a bag so fast like I’m Jesse Owens (Owens)
I got your bitch and she ho-in’ (She ho-in’)
Chain my neck, that shit glowin’ (Shit glowin’)
Ice on my wrist, that shit frozen (That frozen)
Straight to the top, where we goin’? (Where we goin’?)
I’m fresh out the can and bustin’ up Xans
That’s why I’m movin’ in slow motion (Motion)
I bust a dance to hold up my pants
To make sure my Glock ain’t showin’

[Verse 1: NAV & Rowdy Rebel]
Gotta drop on an opp, where is he? (Where is he?)
Slide in that corner, get busy (Get busy)
Look at my chain, shit get frisky
I’m rockin’ Elliot diamonds, no kizzy (No cap)
All my shooters givin’ out head taps
I ain’t goin’ inside no club with no blicky
Got your girl backstage at my show
And I signed three letters on her titty (That’s “NAV”)
GS9, XO, pushin’ your wig back
4-5-6, get a head crack
Drivin’ inside the foreign
Watch everybody move every time I back, back
Most of these people gon’ fold under pressure
Your big homie turned to a rat, rat (Rat)
Gettin’ free bands, I’m gettin’ to the guap
Like Tarantino, I got racks, racks (Racks)
Two-tone dollar, got a two-tone Glock
Got a yellow-bone bitch with a two-door drop
Do it for the thrill, my shooters do drill
In a Hellcat and they get away from the cops
Run into me, I’m a rebel like Rowdy
When I’m in my city, I feel like John Gotti
Put some respect on my body
So much money, think I joined ‘Luminati (Yeah)

[Chorus: Rowdy Rebel]
Back in my zone and I’m focused (Uh-huh)
Please don’t start no commotion (Nah)
Y’all playin’, we uppin’, we throwin’ (We throwin’)
Ain’t gotta think twice, I’m blowin’ (Bow-bow-bow-bow-bow, grr)
Me and NAV on a mission to get to the cash, all my money growin’
I done touched down and I ran up a bag so fast like I’m Jesse Owens (Owens)
I got your bitch and she ho-in’ (She ho-in’)
Chain my neck, that shit glowin’ (Shit glowin’)
Ice on my wrist, that shit frozen (That frozen)
Straight to the top, where we goin’? (Where we goin’?)
I’m fresh out the can and bustin’ up Xans
That’s why I’m movin’ in slow motion (Motion)
I bust a dance to hold up my pants
To make sure my Glock ain’t showin’

[Verse 2: Rowdy Rebel]
I’m off the Addy, I’m geekin’ (I’m geekin’)
I’m in the spot, I’m tweakin’ (I’m tweakin’)
We might just up for no reason (No reason)
All of my diamonds is freezin’ (Freezin’)
All of my diamonds from Eric the Jeweler, he make my shit cooler
My diamonds is wet like a sewer
I told him to bust up my shooters
‘Cause all of my shooters, they gon’ take care of the mula (Woo)
Slide through your block with a MAC (With a MAC)
I ain’t talkin’ bout no sleeze (No sleeze)
I’m talkin’ ’bout this .30, attached (Attached)
Check this MAC, I got in the V (Woah)
I’m in the back of the Bach with a MAC
I’m tryna clear off the scene (Off the scene)
I got my bitch in the car, she drivin’
She ain’t gon’ tell what she see (See, woah)
I make her bust off a Perc’ (Off a Perc’)
Then make her get down on her knees (On her knees)
I put my Glock in her purse (Her purse)
‘Cause it show in my Amiri jeans (Jeans)
I got a bitch that’s a nurse (A nurse)
She always take care of my needs (My needs)
All of my hot boys on go (On go)
They all gon’ put on for the team (For the team)
Bet you they cover they mouth (They mouth)
They ain’t gon’ talk or speak (Shh)
They gon’ just drip when you park (What?)
And run up that shmoney machine

[Chorus: Rowdy Rebel]
Back in my zone and I’m focused (Uh-huh)
Please don’t start no commotion (Nah)
Y’all playin’, we uppin’, we throwin’ (We throwin’)
Ain’t gotta think twice, I’m blowin’ (Bow-bow-bow-bow-bow, grr)
Me and NAV on a mission to get to the cash, all my money growin’
I done touched down and I ran up a bag so fast like I’m Jesse Owens (Owens)
I got your bitch and she ho-in’ (She ho-in’)
Chain my neck, that shit glowin’ (Shit glowin’)
Ice on my wrist, that shit frozen (That frozen)
Straight to the top, where we goin’? (Where we goin’?)
I’m fresh out the can and bustin’ up Xans
That’s why I’m movin’ in slow motion (Motion)
I bust a dance to hold up my pants
To make sure my Glock ain’t showin’ (Grrah)

[Outro: Rowdy Rebel]
Showin’, showin’, showin’

Roc Marciano – Fabio Lyrics

[Intro: Fillmore Slim]
She said, uh, "I wanna go wit' ya"
This the part I ain’t understand
I said, "What ya mean, ya wanna go wit' ya?"
"I wanna be-I wan-I wan-I wanna be-I wanna be ya woman," ya know?
I said, "What ya do?"
She said, "I go to bed wit' men for money."
Ya know, I’m just a musician, I don't, I don't, [stuttering], as a blues singer
I don't know what she talkin' about, I'm green to all that
She said, "I wanna go to bed wit' ya. I go to bed wit' men for money."
I said, "What dat is?" Ya know?
She said, "I have sex wit’ ’em."
I said, "Where's ya husband?"
She said, "I don’t have no husband."
Ya know?
I said, "Well, uh."
"But I wanna go wit' you."
So then the fellas in the van, they just kinda just, "Man, we, you can't take her back to Los Angeles wit' you, man. We ain’t got no room for her."
And I looked at my pockets, I said, "Yeah, we gon' have room for this woman. We gon' take her back and one o' y'all got to catch the bus."

[Verse 1: Roc Marciano]
Yo, uh, nobody's perfect but I'm close (I'm close)
I can't be cloned when I was made after they broke the mold (break it)
It was written in stone (stone)
I'm brilliant, just peep what I did with the stove (look)
Uh, your skin'll get cold, I'm killin' shit, I'll never get parole (never)
Uh, holmes, we got different roles, I chose the forbidden road (the forbidden road)
All I had was the toast in my signature Rolls (mmm)
Still got it poppin' though, this my Picasso, hoe
Pop the top, your brains on the side of the road look like a taco bowl (woah)
I dipped off in the yacht, this one of Chapo's boats (wooh!)
My hair was blowin' in the wind like Fabio's (haha, uhhh adios)
The Maserati I drove this like the one that John Gotti owned (Gotti owned)
If I'm ridin' with wifey, it's probably the Ghost (probably)
Lil' mami beside me fly, she's from the Ivory Coast (facts)
Uh, I carved a lane out for myself (for myself)
As for the yay, you can't weigh, it'll break the scale
I came to came with the tale, Alexander Wang made the alligator belt (ow)
These no-talent rappers is fabricatin' tales, uh (get 'em, baby)
Hawaiian top so fly I might skydive
I might throw a lightnin' rod cause I'm a god (cause I'm a god)

Strike you down in the street like a dog (wooh, dog)
Burn an incense (burn a incense)
Burnin' some Cadenzas first with German engines
Learn the bidness, new crib with one word: it's expensive
I might only furnish the place with bitches (yeah)
Know what I'm sayin'? I'ma put one over there, I'm a put a bitch over there
I'ma sit on another bitch like a chair
Know what I'm sayin'?
[Sampled Dialogue: Voice 1 and Voice 2]
"No, sit down, sit down. Hundred thousand a month. Hundred thousand. Never took a dime from the top
(This shit ain't about nothin' though)
And you seem to respect my, uh, my policy on drugs. They died!"
"Yeah, I've done that."

[Verse 2: Roc Marciano]
Uh, Alchemist
Uh, shots of RumHaven, son was sunbathin'
Fundraisin', we some gunslingers, niggas pump fakin'
You chumps hatin' from the jump baby
We can run the fade
And f*ck waitin'
I've been stayin' patient where the love's vacant
Facin' drug cases, nothin's sacred, we don't touch bacon (no)
Take your bucks, duct tape 'em, homo thugs, butt rape 'em (uh)
Lace the blunt with dust, butt naked, couple cuts from Jacob's (uh, Jacobs)
Got the summer shakin', bitches love gangstas, slug cases on the rugs
The walls is like blood paintin's, check the ring and wrist, you bum
This shit a flood, ain't it? (uh)
I pull up and hit you in the mug, playa with the butt of the rusty banger (uh)
You must be feeling lucky you try and play us (uh)
I'm somethin' special, the dress who got extra layers (layers)
Hoes devil suits, expect for you to do sexual favors
This is level two, the pebbles got etched with my favorite bevel razor
I'm a vessel/vassal, mess with my paper, heifers'll pepper spray your retinas
All you seen was just redness (redness)
I watched from the TV set in the headrest in the cherry Lexus
This ain't a Tesla, but it's electric
Son, I finessed it like Stedman
Son, need some big Giuseppes, tryna step in
Uh, son, some big Giuseppes, tryna step in
[Outro: Roc Marciano]
Uh, that's a fact, it ain't known
I'm that nigga ain't no if's, and's, or
Might scoop your whore if she bad and just
Cop the new Lam or Wraith, I'm thinkin'
Uh, I'm thinking, yeah

Zaytoven – Ocean Face Lyrics (feat. Bankroll Fresh)

[Chorus: Bankroll Fresh]
Grind like no other, shine like no other
Came back to back, got 2 bitches like no other
This a 1 on 1 watch, nigga it ain't no other
I'm a 1 on 1 nigga, I ain't no other
Ride like no other, shine like no other
Bitch I'm in the trap, I'm selling dimes like no other
Hustle like no other, man I get it like no other
All my niggas with me, come get it like no other

[Verse 1: Bankroll Fresh]
Ain't another nigga like me, ain't a damb nother
Young street nigga, bitch I came from out the gutter
645, white paint seats butter
645, white paint seats butter
Drop it in the pot, and I can make a damb nother
Made another from another [?]
Nigga try to rob, p*ssy you a sucker
p*ssy nigga try to rob, p*ssy you a sucker
Rich ass nigga, Balmain on my denom
50 grand on me right now, let's go get them
Nigga talking crazy, we pop a nigga top
I just jugged off a block, 2 zips 5 [?]

[Chorus: Bankroll Fresh]
Grind like no other, shine like no other
Came back to back, got 2 bitches like no other
This a 1 on 1 watch, nigga it ain't no other
I'm a 1 on 1 nigga, I ain't no other
Ride like no other, shine like no other

Bitch I'm in the trap, I'm selling dimes like no other
Hustle like no other, man I get it like no other
All my niggas with me, come get it like no other
[Verse 2: Bankroll Fresh]
Nigga this a 1 on 1, ain't no f*cking nother
All these diamonds in this bitch get you smuthered
All these motherf*cking VVS [?]
[?] make these bitches wanna suck ya
I'm a motherf*ckin real nigga, a real hustler
And I got it from the street, I'm talking real gutter
Got bands in this bitch, you wanna buy? You wanna buy?
Got bands in this bitch, you wanna try? Who wanna try?
10 pounds in the [?]
Nigga say he wanna [?] it's a [?]
I got real street money, racks in all of my pockets
Real street nigga, balling like I'm John Gotti

[Chorus: Bankroll Fresh]
Grind like no other, shine like no other
Came back to back, got 2 bitches like no other
This a 1 on 1 watch, nigga it ain't no other
I'm a 1 on 1 nigga, I ain't no other
Ride like no other, shine like no other
Bitch I'm in the trap, I'm selling dimes like no other
Hustle like no other, man I get it like no other
All my niggas with me, come get it like no other

Rick Ross – TipToe’N Lyrics


(Chorus)
I’m tiptoe’n out the bank, hope you don’t speak to me
I’m tiptoe’n out the bank, hope you don’t speak to me
I’m tiptoe’n out the bank, hope you don’t speak to me
Hope you don’t speak to me, hope you don’t speak to me
I’m tiptoe’n out the bank, hope you don’t speak to me
I’m tiptoe’n out the bank, hope you don’t speak to me
I’m tiptoe’n out the bank, hope you don’t speak to me
Hope you don’t speak to me, hope you don’t speak to me

(Verse 1)
Flowers for the b**ches, bottles for my dawgs
I got coupes in the yard, so I f**k ’em all
I got Bally’s on my feet, the money on my mind
All year we run around like it’s the summertime
Ship my Bentley to Jamaica, “what the bumbaclot?”
My b**ch dressed to the floor, that pu**y Rastafari
Top shotta told me, “(shut it for a batty boy)”
Kidnapping charges, walk up in the with John Gotti’s lawyer
I’m tiptoe’n out the court, hope you don’t speak to me
Just respect a ni**a name or die peacefully
I don’t f**k with sucka’ ni**as, that’s the other side
And they still do B&E, that’s on my brotha side

(Chorus)
I’m tiptoe’n out the bank, hope you don’t speak to me
I’m tiptoe’n out the bank, hope you don’t speak to me
I’m tiptoe’n out the bank, hope you don’t speak to me
Hope you don’t speak to me, hope you don’t speak to me
I’m tiptoe’n out the bank, hope you don’t speak to me
I’m tiptoe’n out the bank, hope you don’t speak to me
I’m tiptoe’n out the bank, hope you don’t speak to me
Hope you don’t speak to me, hope you don’t speak to me

(Verse 2)
The b**ches for the playas, guns for the goonies
I’m addicted to this way, I’m accustomed to movie
Cigars in the mornin’, lobsters and the omelette
Your vibe not the vibe if money not the topic
I’m tiptoe’n out the bank, hop in the 650
Got another young ni**a gettin’ rich with me
I’m flossing just to floss, I hustle to the core
I said the biggest boss, I always wanted more
Real estate, you gotta’ see a ni**a gates
(?) in the pen, cell phones on his waist
You know the streets will come all hell up in the ‘fits
I went and got the stick, they said it’s hit or miss
I’m still f**kin’ b**ches out the magazine
Better log-on young ni**as havin’ things
I’m tiptoe’n out the bank, ni**a
I bumped into Carmelo in the Wraith, ni**a

(Chorus)
I’m tiptoe’n out the bank, hope you don’t speak to me
I’m tiptoe’n out the bank, hope you don’t speak to me
I’m tiptoe’n out the bank, hope you don’t speak to me
Hope you don’t speak to me, hope you don’t speak to me
I’m tiptoe’n out the bank, hope you don’t speak to me
I’m tiptoe’n out the bank, hope you don’t speak to me
I’m tiptoe’n out the bank, hope you don’t speak to me
Hope you don’t speak to me, hope you don’t speak to me

(Verse 3)
Touch a couple dollars, time to pay your taxes
Keep another seven figures in a pissy mattress
Forbes list, five years, ni**as started clappin’
Feds indicted half the city so I started rappin’
Her baby-daddy went to prison, shorty started strippin’
Then I got a pint of sirrup and we started sippin’
I pull up in a Wraith, them b**ches saw the difference
Stop dissin’ pu**y ni**as, ain’t no competition
When you pull up to the crib you see the waterfalls
You would think that I produced TLC Waterfalls
Them boys was sellin’ crack while they was smokin’ speed
This only type of profit come from overseas

(Chorus)
I’m tiptoe’n out the bank, hope you don’t speak to me
I’m tiptoe’n out the bank, hope you don’t speak to me
I’m tiptoe’n out the bank, hope you don’t speak to me
Hope you don’t speak to me, hope you don’t speak to me
I’m tiptoe’n out the bank, hope you don’t speak to me
I’m tiptoe’n out the bank, hope you don’t speak to me
I’m tiptoe’n out the bank, hope you don’t speak to me
Hope you don’t speak to me, hope you don’t speak to me

Rick Ross – Tiptoe’n

[Chorus]
I’m tiptoe’n out the bank, hope you don’t speak to me
I’m tiptoe’n out the bank, hope you don’t speak to me
I’m tiptoe’n out the bank, hope you don’t speak to me
Hope you don’t speak to me, hope you don’t speak to me
I’m tiptoe’n out the bank, hope you don’t speak to me
I’m tiptoe’n out the bank, hope you don’t speak to me
I’m tiptoe’n out the bank, hope you don’t speak to me
Hope you don’t speak to me, hope you don’t speak to me

[Verse 1]
Flowers for the bitches, bottles for my dawgs
I got coupes in the yard so I fuck ’em all
I got Bally’s on my feet, the money on my mind
All year we run around like it’s the summertime
Ship my Bentley to Jamaica, "what the bumbaclot?"
My bitch dressed to the floor, that pussy Rastafari
Top shotta told me, "[? batty boy]"
Kidnapping charges, walk up in the with John Gotti’s lawyer
I’m tiptoe’n out the court, hope you don’t speak to me
Just respect a nigga name or die peacefully
I don’t fuck with sucka’ niggas, that’s the other side
And they still do B&E, that’s on my brotha side

[Chorus]
I’m tiptoe’n out the bank, hope you don’t speak to me
I’m tiptoe’n out the bank, hope you don’t speak to me
I’m tiptoe’n out the bank, hope you don’t speak to me
Hope you don’t speak to me, hope you don’t speak to me
I’m tiptoe’n out the bank, hope you don’t speak to me
I’m tiptoe’n out the bank, hope you don’t speak to me
I’m tiptoe’n out the bank, hope you don’t speak to me
Hope you don’t speak to me, hope you don’t speak to me

[Verse 2]
The bitches for the playas, guns for the goonies
I’m addicted to this way, I’m accustomed to movie
Cigars in the mornin’, lobsters and the omelette
Your vibe not the vibe if money not the topic
I’m tiptoe’n out the bank, hop in the 650
Got another young nigga gettin’ rich with me
I’m flossing just to floss, I hustle to the core
I said the biggest boss, I always wanted more
Real estate, you gotta’ see a nigga gates
[?],cell phones on his waist
You know the streets will come all hell up in the ‘fits
I went and got the stick, they said it’s hit or miss
I’m still fuckin’ bitches out the magazine
Better log-on young niggas havin’ things
I’m tiptoe’n out the bank, nigga
I bumped into Carmelo in the Wraith, nigga

[Chorus]
I’m tiptoe’n out the bank, hope you don’t speak to me
I’m tiptoe’n out the bank, hope you don’t speak to me
I’m tiptoe’n out the bank, hope you don’t speak to me
Hope you don’t speak to me, hope you don’t speak to me
I’m tiptoe’n out the bank, hope you don’t speak to me
I’m tiptoe’n out the bank, hope you don’t speak to me
I’m tiptoe’n out the bank, hope you don’t speak to me
Hope you don’t speak to me, hope you don’t speak to me

[Verse 3]
Touch a couple dollars, time to pay your taxes
Keep another seven figures in a pissy mattress
Forbes list, five years, niggas started clappin’
Feds indicted half the city so I started rappin’
Her baby-daddy went to prison, shorty started strippin’
Then I got a pint of sirrup and we started sippin’
I pull up in a Wraith, them bitches saw the difference
Stop dissin’ pussy niggas, ain’t no competition
When you pull up to the crib you see the waterfalls
You would think that I produced TLC Waterfalls
Them boys was sellin’ crack while they was smokin’ speed
This only type of profit come from overseas

[Chorus]
I’m tiptoe’n out the bank, hope you don’t speak to me
I’m tiptoe’n out the bank, hope you don’t speak to me
I’m tiptoe’n out the bank, hope you don’t speak to me
Hope you don’t speak to me, hope you don’t speak to me
I’m tiptoe’n out the bank, hope you don’t speak to me
I’m tiptoe’n out the bank, hope you don’t speak to me
I’m tiptoe’n out the bank, hope you don’t speak to me
Hope you don’t speak to me, hope you don’t speak to me

21 Savage – Money Convo (Issa Album)

[Verse 1]
Peon ass niggas
Levis and Adidas ass niggas
High point having ass niggas
I got a Glock and it don’t jam, I blast niggas
You a lovey dovey buy a ring nigga
I’m the type to pass her to the team, nigga
You went and bought that bitch Céline, nigga?
Now she fuckin’ me, I know you wanna kill her
And I sold dope on my 10 toes
We ain’t fallin’ out over freak hoes
21 Savage still in savage mode
I thought I told you I’m a savage on these hoes
Maybach with the curtains up
I’m with Nudy, he gon’ burn you up
Fake gangbangin’, nigga turned into a snitch
Went against that 21, I left him in a ditch

[Pre-Chorus]
Pull up
We like gas, we like gas, gas, gas
Hol’ up
We like cash, we like cash, cash, cash
Hol’ up
Wanna fuck me, I’m like yas, yas, yas
Hol’ up
VVS’ drippin’, dance, dance, dance

[Chorus]
Money conversations, money conversations, money convo
Money conversations, money conversations, money convo
Money conversations, money conversations, money convo
Money conversations, money conversations, money convo

[Post-Chorus]
Bitch I came straight from the bottom, nigga and I’m still humble
Auto start my whip before I dip, I let that bitch rumble
AK-47s, M16s, they gon’ sting, bumble
Got your main bitch with me bent over eatin’ meat, gumbo

[Verse 2]
Money talk, yeah, nigga, cash talk, yeah, nigga
Ridin’ ’round with that yappa tryna duck the feds, nigga
Oh you drinkin’ green? Nope, only drink that red, nigga
Only fuck the bad hoes, buy my cars with cash, ho
Niggas know I blast off, pull up with the mask off
Air it out like aerosol, I robbed Peter and Paul
Bought a 488, finna act an asshole
I’ve been gettin’ so much money, they think I sold my damn soul
You a fake gangsta, you ain’t ever shot nobody
I don’t wanna hear them stories ’bout them fake bodies
Young Savage send a hit like John Gotti
Nigga get whacked, thinkin’ they hard ’cause they on molly
I’m the Saint Laurent Don, love to cash out
You a dick jumpin’ faggot, you a mascot
You beat your bitch ’cause she walk ’round with her ass out
They wanna rob me ’cause I walk ’round with that bag out
Drinkin’ syrup, lil’ bitch, I’m finna pass out
Never slippin’, Glock 40 with a red dot
Seven figure nigga, money all I talk about
You ain’t talkin’ ’bout no money, what ya talkin’ ’bout?

[Chorus]
Money conversations, money conversations, money convo
Money conversations, money conversations, money convo
Money conversations, money conversations, money convo
Money conversations, money conversations, money convo

[Post-Chorus]
Bitch I came straight from the bottom, nigga and I’m still humble
Auto start my whip before I dip, I let that bitch rumble
AK-47s, M16s, they gon’ sting, bumble
Got your main bitch with me bent over eatin’ meat, gumbo

[Outro]
Metro Boomin want some more, nigga

Money Convo

Lyrics to ‘Money Convo’ by 21 Savage:

–Verse 1–
Peon ass niggas
Levis and Adidas ass niggas
High point having ass niggas
I got a Glock and it don’t jam, I blast niggas
You a lovey dovey buy a ring nigga
I’m the type to pass her to the team, nigga
You went and bought that bitch Céline, nigga?
Now she fuckin’ me, I know you wanna kill her
And I sold dope on my 10 toes
We ain’t fallin’ out over free hoes
21 Savage still in savage mode
I thought I told you I’m a savage on these hoes
Maybach with the curtains up
I’m with Nudy, he gon’ burn you up
Fake gangbangin’, nigga turned into a snitch
Went against that 21, I left him in a ditch

–Pre-Chorus–
Pull up
We like gas, we like gas, gas, gas
Hol’ up
We like cash, we like cash, cash, cash
Hol’ up
Wanna fuck me, I’m like yas, yas, yas
Hol’ up
VVS’ drippin’, dance, dance, dance

–Chorus–
Money conversations, money conversations, money convo
Money conversations, money conversations, money convo
Money conversations, money conversations, money convo
Money conversations, money conversations, money convo

–Post-Chorus–
Bitch I came straight from the bottom, nigga and I’m still humble
Auto start my whip before I dip, I let that bitch rumble
AK-47s, M16s, they gon’ sting, bumble
Got your main bitch with me bent over eatin’ meat, gumbo

–Verse 2–
Money talk, yeah, nigga, cash talk, yeah, nigga
Ridin’ ’round with that yappa tryna duck the feds, nigga
Oh you drinkin’ green? Nope, only drink that red, nigga
Only fuck the bad hoes, buy my cars with cash, ho
Niggas know I blast off, pull up with the mask off
Air it out like aerosol, I robbed Peter and Paul
Bought a 488, finna act an asshole
I’ve been gettin’ so much money, they think I sold my damn soul
You a fake gangsta, you ain’t ever shot nobody
I don’t wanna hear them stories ’bout them fake bodies
Young Savage send a hit like John Gotti
Nogga get whacked, thinkin’ they hard ’cause they on molly
I’m the Saint Laurent Don, love to cash out
You a dick jumpin’ faggot, you a mascot
You beat your bitch ’cause she walk ’round with her ass out
They wanna rob me ’cause I walk ’round with that bag out
Drinkin’ syrup, lil’ bitch, I’m finna pass out
Never slippin’, Glock 40 with a red dot
Seven figure nigga, money all I talk about
You ain’t talkin’ ’bout no money, what ya talkin’ ’bout?

–Chorus–
Money conversations, money conversations, money convo
Money conversations, money conversations, money convo
Money conversations, money conversations, money convo
Money conversations, money conversations, money convo

–Post-Chorus–
Bitch I came straight from the bottom, nigga and I’m still humble
Auto start my whip before I dip, I let that bitch rumble
AK-47s, M16s, they gon’ sting, bumble
Got your main bitch with me bent over eatin’ meat, gumbo

–Outro–
Metro Boomin want some more, nigga

Okay – Sandzo feat. Nimo songtexte

Songtexte Sandzo – Okay

Du machst ‘ne Mio, is’ ok, Koka mit Kilos is’ ok
Herrscher aus Rio is’ ok, Banditen Amigo is’ ok
ok, ok (ok, ok, ok)
Roli am Arm is’ ok, Zwei Mille die Nacht is’ ok
Vetements Pulli is’ ok, deine Bitch is’ nackt eh ok
Carlo Colucci, geladene Uzi, Gold und .., fick deine Pussy
Miliaren Dollar face, ok, zehn Flaschen im VIP, ok
Hass’ mich wie du willst aber ok, beiges Leder digga ok
Und jetzt redet jeder aber okay
030 Berlin ok, Futurekid digga ok
CQ Model ok, Cadillac ok
Gestern ein noname, aber heute ist ok
Jeder von ihnen jetzt Pablo, jeder von ihnen ein Narco
Schmuggel die Ware im Cargo
Is ok ok, du Diablo.

Du bist Toni Montana, Al Capone, John Gotti
Pablo, Pablo
ok, ok, ok
ok, ok, ok
ok, ok, ok.

Timberland classic boots, ok
Levis 501, ok
Schwarzer Rollkragenpullover
Juckt keinen wie viel dein Oversize kostet
Trag’ ‘ne Holzfällerjacke mit Loch in den Ärmeln,
doch hat viel mehr wert und ist Teil meiner Story wie OG,Ortak .., ok ok, ok
Ray Ban so wie John Lennon ok, ok, ok
Kangol 507 Cap alla Samuel Jackson ok
Meister is’ Nimo ok
1, 2, 3 Mios sind ok
Rapper reden viel aber ok
Ihre Flows sind kopiert aber ok, ok
Roli am Arm ok, ok, ok
Ficke big booty Bitches die von dem Block sind
Trag ne Roli am Arm ok, ok, ok
Fick die big booty bitches die from the Block sind wie Jennifer Lopez ok, ok, okay.

Du bist Toni Montana, Al Capone, John Gotti
Pablo, Pablo
ok, ok, ok
ok, ok, ok
ok, ok, ok.

Apollo is’ okay
Keine Kontrolle is’ ok
In meiner Rolle is’ ok
Bitches in Wolle sind ok
Schnapp mir ne Olle im Mercedes ok
Steh nicht drauf wenn sie viel redet
Geb ihr jetzt in ‘nem Mercedes
War doch klar, dass ich so rede
Neue Flocken digga ok
Goldene Locke digga ok
Lamborghini digga ok
Batzen Bündel digga ok
Versuri-lyrics.info
Bruder ich hab es im Blut
Jimmy Dean ich hab den Juice
Baby sag fühlst du den Blues?

Du bist Toni Montana, Al Capone, John Gotti
Pablo, Pablo
ok, ok, okkk.
Sandzo songtexte
Video Sandzo

Jimmy Wopo – Back Door (feat. Sonny Digital)

[Verse 1: Jimmy Wopo]
Skinny nigga, but I play with them choppers nigga
What’s the haps? What’s popping nigga?
You gonna meet your match, keep talking nigga
You gonna meet that MAC, we’re talking with ya
We gonna bust these bullets ’till your body give up
Try me in the mall I pull a hottie nigga
First let me hop up out that Rari, Illuminati
Money baby she massaging my Versace
Nigga, extra antes feed the family
XD 40 come in handy
Popping Xannys, smoking granny
Bitch we trapping out the bandy
Cruising, blew one out the van he hit a nigga Karlos Dansby
Cleaned the block up yesterday, we back today
Any left over niggas getting thrown away
Woke up on that money drinking Hennessy
Aye ay, plus I popped a perc, but you gon’ learn today
Popped the carbon, let that bitch do karate
Popped a band, now them hundreds sitting sloppy
Popped your mans, let you identify the body
Ooh, bitch I think I’m John Gotti

[Hook: Jimmy Wopo]
You ain’t getting money, you ain’t making noise
Pull up on them big wheels like some little boys
Grown men but we play with toys
I’m that problem that you should avoid
What happened to that boy?
What happened to that boy? Heard it was a back door
What happened to that boy?
What happened to that boy? Heard it was a front door

[Verse 2: Sonny Digital]
We let the money through the front door
Ay, then let them bitches out the back door
Ay, when you keep that shit a hundred nigga
Aye, you ain’t never gotta act broke
Ay, let go
Blue hundreds, I keep it on me nigga
Ay, you know, not to run up on me nigga
Ay, you know, I keep it by me nigga
Stop the violence, keep the peace, but please don’t try me nigga
Ay, lord save ’em lord save ’em
Ay, why they acting like they love ’em but they hate ’em
Ay, I see you stealing all the sauce that we created
Ay, I don’t deal the cards, my nigga I just play ’em
Hey!

[Hook: Jimmy Wopo]
You ain’t getting money, you ain’t making noise
Pull up on them big wheels like some little boys
Grown men but we play with toys
I’m that problem that you should avoid
What happened to that boy?
What happened to that boy? Heard it was a back door
What happened to that boy?
What happened to that boy? Heard it was a front door

21 Savage – Lord Forgive (Slaughter King Mixtape) letras

[Verse 1]
A hundred a zip and I’m sippin’ on drop
I hit for a hunnit’ and I bought me a drop
I pulled up on her and panties just drop
Up 32 shots and you niggas gon’ drop
I’m from [?] give a fuck bout your block
High speed chasing, give a fuck bout the cops
When I see 12, put the dope in my sock
Niggas be rappin, I came up off rocks
I’m thuggin’, Im thuggin’, I feel like I’m Pac
They tried to betray me
I’m mad at myself cause I keep it real with all these niggas
Niggas actin like bitches, niggas all in they feelings
These niggas acting like women
Drowning in money, I’m swimmin’
These bitches acting like pigeons
I just want a couple million, I just want a couple million
And I’m still loyal to the game
These other niggas man, they lame
I really sold cocaine, Gas stank propane
Glock forty, nigga bang, Blood, Crip, nigga bang
I heard ya got ya chain took and had to get another damn chain
21 nigga the gang, slaughter ya daughter the gang
Mac 90 got range, young savage got aim
I bought a new Rollie, its plain, you niggas best stay in yo lane
I pull up and fuck on yo main
I’m covered in money, I’m drippin
These niggas they telling, they snitchin’
So we gon’ fuck on all they bitches, I be round lot of henchmen
Moving like im John Gotti, 12 gauge nigga shotty
Hit ’em all in the body, I just caught another body
Lord forgive me I’m sorry, I can’t help it, I’m a street nigga
I had to get some money, I watched my momma struggle
I jumped off the porch, had to use my muscle

[Hook]
Lord forgive me, lord forgive me, lord
They keep askin’ why I got that sword in my face (Tayman)
Lord forgive me, lord forgive me, lord
I just beat another case
I just went and bought a Wraith
I just nutted on her face
Brand new rollie with the face
No face, no case

[Verse 2]
Lord forgive me for my sins, I was struggling tryna win
I had to lose a lot of friends, nigga tryna chase them m’s
Cooking up crack its illegal, riding with a desert eagle
I’m a felon, that’s illegal, main bitch, she illegal
Hunnid pounds of Cali reefer, Call of duty heat seeker
Pull up on ya in a regal, window down nigga creeping
Nigga rapping? I’m preachin’, nigga we are not equal
In the trenches, niggas beefing, i remember not sleeping
Hit the club and get to squeezing, shoot it up for no reason
I was living like a demon, i was living like a demon

[Interlude]
Now i lay me down to sleep, i pray the lord, my soul to keep
If i should die before i wake, i pray the lord my soul to take

[Hook]
Lord forgive me, lord forgive me, lord
They keep askin’ why I got that sword in my face (Tayman)
Lord forgive me, lord forgive me, lord
I just beat another case
I just went and bought a Wraith
I just nutted on her face
Brand new rollie with the face
No face, no case