Juvenile – Red Sox (feat. Young Thug)



[Verse 1: Juvenile]
I take it, you niggas think I’m a fake
It’s all in your face, I can see ya hate
I ain’t doing good, I’m doing great
We been living in the ghetto to estates
You a pussy nigga, you ain’t gon’ relate
But these bitches gon’ do what a nigga say
I start with A and then end with a K
I’m home these bitches get in the way
Man, I hunt a nigga down with the choppa
Circle round this whole town like a helicopter
Down for whatever, coke, pounds or whatever
I was raised in a broken house, I know no better
Nigga put in the bag, boy you a fag
I knew my mamma very well, I ain’t know my dad
Camouflage rags up in the air
Got some soldiers over here, soldiers over there
Bust a nigga in the club, he need Obamacare
I bet I put you in the grave before your mama there
Peeling off in the Rover ya’ll saw me
Got to send ‘ em shout out to the drunkest young boy
Lil’ nigga with a trunk full of narcotic
I got every pill except an antibiotic
”S” on my chest got me feeling bionic
You can roll a nigga in paper, i’m chronic

[Hook: Young Thug]
H-o-t Boy, ready to d-i-e (on blood!)
H-o-t Boy, nigga catch ’em Hy!-beats
I ain’t advertising but you can try hire me
Ok now throw up what you banging
If you in the hood, you need to be slanging
Nigga run it to the top, get the guap
Run it to the top, while y’all flock
Hey, I’m banging red like a Red Sox
Yeah, I’m banging red like a Red Sox

[Bridge: Young Thug]
Pussy nigga is your time to die, nigga death o’clock
Nigga, nigga i’m heating it’s a fed clock
Yeah Juvie, I say yeaaah Juvie

[Verse 2: Young Thug]
Lord Of The Ring my nigga, I’m bleedin’ I’m fiendin’ my nigga
Hey I’m fiendin’ for digits and millions
Nigga smokin’ green, racks stacked up like green tree
Living life like my new single, cash out like Charlie Sheen (cash!)
I sell collar greens, spend the profit on jelly beans
You soft nigga, jolly feet, sold many drugs, nigga gotta eat
Sneakin’ and geekin’, a pull up on weekends, I fuck on the deacon’s daughter
The cousin, the bousin, the mother, the father
The Uncle, the aunt, I roll up a blunt
Bring out the remix of Stoner, I call it The Stunt
I won’t tell you once, we eatin’, we feastin’, we lunch, we lunch, we lunch, we lunch, we lunch, we lunch!

[Hook: Young Thug]
H-o-t Boy, ready to d-i-e (on blood!)
H-o-t Boy, nigga catch ’em Hy!-beats
I ain’t advertising but you can try me
Ok now throw up what you banging
If you in the hood, you need to be slinging
Nigga run it to the top, get the guap
Run it to the top, while y’all flock
Hey, I’m banging red like a Red Sox
Yeah, I’m banging red like a Red Sox



Red sox – Juvenile feat. Young Thug lyrics



Lyrics Juvenile – Red Sox

I take it, you niggas think I’m a fake
It’s all in your face, I can see ya hate
I ain’t doing good, I’m doing great
We been living in the ghetto to estates
You a pussy nigga, you ain’t gon’ relate
But these b*tches gon’ do what a nigga say
I start with A and then end with a K
I’m home these b*tches get in the way
Man, I hunt a nigga down with the choppa
Circle round this whole town like a helicopter
Down for whatever, coke, pounds or whatever
I was raised in a broken house, I know no better
Nigga put in the bag, boy you a fag
I knew my mamma very well, I ain’t know my dad
Camouflage rags up in the air
Got some soldiers over here, soldiers over there
Bust a nigga in the club, he need Obamacare
I bet I put you in the grave before your mama there
Peeling off in the Rover ya’ll saw me
Got to send ‘ em shout out to the drunkest young boy
Lil’ nigga with a trunk full of narcotic
I got every pill except an antibiotic
”S” on my chest got me feeling bionic
You can roll a nigga in paper, I’m chronic.(red sox)

H-o-t Boy, ready to d-i-e (on blood!)
H-o-t Boy, nigga catch ’em Hy!-beats
I ain’t advertising but you can try hire me
Ok now throw up what you banging
If you in the hood, you need to be slanging
Nigga run it to the top, get the guap
Run it to the top, while y’all flock
Hey, I’m banging red like a Red Sox
Yeah, I’m banging red like a Red Sox.

Pussy nigga is your time to die, nigga death o’clock
Nigga, nigga i’m heating it’s a fed clock
Yeah Juvie, I say yeaaaah Juvie.

Lord Of The Ring my nigga, I’m bleedin’ I’m fiendin’ my nigga
Hey I’m fiendin’ for digits and millions
Nigga smokin’ green, racks stacked up like green tree
Living life like my new single, cash out like Charlie Sheen (cash!)
I sell collar greens, spend the profit on jelly beans
You soft nigga, jolly feet, sold many drugs, nigga gotta eat
Sneakin’ and geekin’, a pull up on weekends, I f*ck on the deacon’s daughter
The cousin, the bousin, the mother, the father
The Uncle, the aunt, I roll up a blunt
Bring out the remix of Stoner, I call it The Stunt
I won’t tell you once, we eatin’, we feastin’, we lunch, we lunch, we lunch, we lunch, we lunch, we lunch!

H-o-t Boy, ready to d-i-e (on blood!)
H-o-t Boy, nigga catch ’em Hy!-beats
I ain’t advertising but you can try me
Ok now throw up what you banging
If you in the hood, you need to be slinging
Nigga run it to the top, get the guap
Run it to the top, while y’all flock
Hey, I’m banging red like a Red Sox
Yeahhh, I’m banging red like a Red Soxxx.
Juvenile lyrics
Video sox

Joe Budden – Forget lyrics

[Intro: Russell Thompkins, Jr. of The Stylistics]
It’s easy, to forget
A joke or game, someone’s name
The day to day, what time to meet
A certain place, or one street

[Verse]
Faces be looking familiar, sometimes it’s hard to know
I’ve been in a whole lot of places, I’ve met a lot of folks
Ain’t had a window to open, needed a pot to throw
In my hood the story of Mouse is one you gotta know
Could ask ma to push the i8 Beamer
Can’t remember where I seen her, I think it was La Marina
Singing all the words to Trina
Whole demeanor said freak like old pictures of Adina
But now all these broads shaped the same and waist trained
I’m on my third passport, I can’t remember these niggas
Like all the faces is blurred of most these industry niggas
Mean game somewhile for an inkling of the fame
And I can spot them from their accents when I’m thinking of their name
I’ve seen dames sip pink champagne
And do drugs that’ll put Charlie Sheen to shame
Off my penis until I came
The drugs over these years made its way to my mental
Pardon if I don’t remember when you gave me a demo
Or that one night we met up in Aces
When it count ’em an accountant, I’m just better with faces
So it’s regular Joe, a regular wherever if I’mma go
That’s since forever ago, so it’s however it could go, Joey

Joe Budden – Forget (Rage & The Machine Album) letras

[Verse]
Faces be looking familiar, sometimes it’s hard to know
I’ve been in a whole lot of places, I’ve met a lot of folks
Ain’t had a window to open, needed a pot to throw
In my hood the story of Mouse is one you gotta know
Could ask ma to push the i8 Beamer
Can’t remember where I seen her, I think it was La Marina
Singing all the words to Trina
Whole demeanor said freak like old pictures of Adina
But now all these broads shaped the same and waist trained
I’m on my third passport, I can’t remember these niggas
Like all the faces is blurred of most these industry niggas
Mean game somewhile for an inkling of the fame
And I can spot them from their accents when I’m thinking of their name
I’ve seen dames sip pink champagne
And do drugs that’ll put Charlie Sheen to shame
Off my penis until I came
The drugs over these years made its way to my mental
Pardon if I don’t remember when you gave me a demo
Or that one night we met up in Aces
When it count ’em an accountant, I’m just better with faces
So it’s regular Joe, a regular wherever if I’mma go
That’s since forever ago, so it’s however it could go, Joey

Zaytoven – Guwop Home (feat. Young Thug) (Where Would The Game Be Without Me Mixtape) letras

[Intro: Young Thug]
Mike Willy with me nigga
Big Guwop home
We no longer miss you, yeah
I know Guwop home
We all no longer miss you

[Hook: Gucci Mane & Young Thug]
Dream, it’s a young nigga dream, yeah
Money talk like I’m Charlie Sheen, yeah (Wop)
I’m a blood but I got on blue jeans (it’s Wizzop)
Nigga act so tough it’s startin’ scene
In blue flame, yeah the trap god throwing green rain
Nice guy, mean chain, pull up in a cream Range
Orange seats, orange feet, what do all that orange mean?
Old rich ass nigga, I got everything
[Verse 1: Gucci Mane]
Rose gold watch, but my bottle pink gold
Three red hoes walking round in red rose
Can’t stay the night I’m not the type to be on Skype ho
Wrote me off, said that I was gone, that was a typo
Take a white girl out a trailer make her Iggy
Take a black bitch outta Magic make her Nicki
Pissy yellow Rollie, baby pissy in her feelings
My young bitches show respect they call me Mr. Millions
Brown skin chick and she love to wear purple
Her nails purple, lips purple, pussy hair purple
Big titty Amazon in my black Benz
I’m rich black man got a couple white friends

[Hook: Gucci Mane & Young Thug]
Dream, it’s a young nigga dream, yeah
Money talk like I’m Charlie Sheen, yeah
I’m a blood but I got on blue jeans
Nigga act so tough it’s startin’ scene
In blue flame, yeah the trap god throwing green rain
Nice guy, mean chain, pull up in a cream Range
Orange seats, orange feet, what do all that orange mean?
Old rich ass nigga, I got everything

[Verse 2: Young Thug]
My teeth white like a toilet tissue
Stop the cappin’, boy you know you miss her
We hit the lobby then we saw you kiss her
Lil mama crazy she gon’ try to kill you
I got the weed, bring the molly with you
I got the syrup, bring the Jolly Ranchers
You talk to 12 we gon’ off your body
You tripping boy you need some knowledge in you
Boss man from the 1248
For the clan, nigga 12, 40 plays
Living good, everyday my birthday
Pockets full of money, Master P, ay
National bid day
Free the Wop nigga, National Siblings Day
Call the dentist day
Pull up to the public, come and see the bae
Run it up to the top
Get out and ran it back to the top
Flood your ear, your neck, your wrist, your fingers
And put it all on rocks
Say Guwop home and yeah it’s official, grab some tissues
What’s wrong with you?

[Hook: Gucci Mane & Young Thug]
Dream, it’s a young nigga dream, yeah
Money talk like I’m Charlie Sheen, yeah
I’m a blood but I got on blue jeans
Nigga act so tough it’s startin’ scene
In blue flame, yeah the trap god throwing green rain
Nice guy, mean chain, pull up in a cream Range
Orange seats, orange feet, what do all that orange mean?
Old rich ass nigga, I got everything (It’s Gucci)

[Outro: Young Thug]
Big Guwop home
We no longer miss you
I know Guwop home
We no longer miss you, hey
I can’t wait
Run it up to the top
Get it out and ran it back to the top
Flood your ears, your neck, your wrist, your fingers
And put it all on rocks
Say Guwop home and yeah it’s official, grab some tissues