Toosii – 5 Stars Lyrics

[Intro]
Uh
Oh
Okay
Uh

[Chorus]
Know I hate the way I live, but I ride with straps
Mama tellin’ me, “Don’t ride with that”
We gon’ slide first, ain’t no slidin’ back
But if Rell die, know where he hide the pack
We go up like GPAs
This ain’t no GTA, but my youngin got five stars
I been stayin’ in five-stars, tryna f*ck on five broads
Blitz, nigga, get you hit, nigga, I’m in the whip with it, let the bass ride
My youngins don’t play no ball, but bitch, we base slide
See them boys, they Ray Charles, but we know they ain’t blind
Fly so much, I swear I hate time
Nut in six seconds ’cause she hate Vine
Niggas so broke, that should be a hate crime
She burning, gotta flame on
You ain’t down to work, why the f*ck would I put a lame on?
You let that lame hit for some fame, huh?
Shit, it’s cool, should’ve knew the game, huh?
Just know when I get up, I’ma be the same one

[Verse 1]
Grinded harder than hard, that’s how I started it
Put a Glock 19 in my starter kit
Uh, tryna put my hood on, flood it all with bricks
Bro stuck in the chain gang, he go hard with licks
Know how we do shit, we go hard with sticks
Babe, that’s how hard we hit
And a nigga just ate at Ruth Chris with a thick bitch, not a toothpick (Uh)
I cut my main off ’cause he useless (Uh)
Showed him how to get rackades
And his main focus was to f*ck a bitch off of Backpage
Not a dollar inside your pocket, but you scream that way
Got on my shit, I copped a Demon, now he say I act fake
She ain’t f*ckin’, she gotta skate like she at Cascade
Can’t wait ’til they let Hell Rell up out that cell, I’ll let the sack wait
You ain’t workin’ two times harder than them, then how you jack gang?
And you ‘posed to be my main, how the f*ck I watch a jack trade? (Yeah)

[Chorus]
Know I hate the way I live, but I ride with straps
Mama tellin’ me, “Don’t ride with that”
We gon’ slide first, ain’t no slidin’ back
But if Rell die, know where he hide the pack
We go up like GPAs
This ain’t no GTA, but my youngin got five stars
I been stayin’ in five-stars, tryna f*ck on five broads
Blitz, nigga, get you hit, nigga, I’m in the whip with it, let the bass ride
My youngins don’t play no ball, but bitch, we base slide

See them boys, they Ray Charles, but we know they ain’t blind
Fly so much, I swear I hate time
Nut in six seconds ’cause she hate Vine
Niggas so broke, that should be a hate crime
She burning, gotta flame on
You ain’t down to work, why the f*ck would I put a lame on?
You let that lame hit for some fame, huh?
Shit, it’s cool, should’ve knew the game, huh?
Just know when I get up, I’ma be the same one

[Verse 2]
My sister boyfriend a bitch
Said she ’bout to have twins and he ain’t raisin’ shit
Shit, I told her, “f*ck it, that’s why a nigga got rich”
Say he know where I live, so I don’t hide the glick
He don’t know the gang and how we ride with blicks
And I know that he a ho and he ain’t sliding shit
Twenty shots cool, but shit, we ride with dicks
Niggas hate, so they be riding dick
Tryna be cool, you spun the block, got your top shotta hit
You f*cked around, got toe-tagged
Ho ragged just to get your ho bagged, yeah
Fly nigga like me, you won’t get your ho back
I’m from the slums, so I need more racks
Toot’ll get ’em dead, thought you know that
Still’ll hit the club and do my bop like I was Kodak
They stole my flow, can I get my flow back?
Copped a rental, but it had no tag
We gon’ hit his head, but we had no mask
From the land, ain’t talkin’ no man

[Chorus]
Know I hate the way I live, but I ride with straps
Mama tellin’ me, “Don’t ride with that”
We gon’ slide first, ain’t no slidin’ back
But if Rell die, know where he hide the pack
We go up like GPAs
This ain’t no GTA, but my youngin got five stars
I been stayin’ in five-stars, tryna f*ck on five broads
Blitz, nigga, get you hit, nigga, I’m in the whip with it, let the bass ride
My youngins don’t play no ball, but bitch, we base slide
See them boys, they Ray Charles, but we know they ain’t blind
Fly so much, I swear I hate time
Nut in six seconds ’cause she hate Vine
Niggas so broke, that should be a hate crime
She burning, gotta flame on
You ain’t down to work, why the f*ck would I put a lame on?
You let that lame hit for some fame, huh?
Shit, it’s cool, should’ve knew the game, huh?
Just know when I get up, I’ma be the same one

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

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

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

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

Kanye West – New Bødy Lyrics

Play this song

[Intro]
Oh my God, Ronny!

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

DJ Khaled – Wish Wish Lyrics

Play this song

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

21 Savage – Flexin’ [Snippet] Lyrics

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

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

Peek a boo – Lil Yachty feat. Migos lyrics

Lyrics Lil Yachty – Peek a boo

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Manolo Rose – Ball Drop

[Intro]
Hello?
Hello?
Who?

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

Jim Jones – Kitchen

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

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

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

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

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

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

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

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