Vultures (Juice Version) (feat. Bump J & Lil Durk)

¥$ (YenDollar)

    Continúa después del anuncio

    All eyes is on me
    Won't tell no lies, won't hold my tongue
    Don't cry for me
    (This Chicago, nigga)

    I don't have no rapper friends, I hang wit' The Vultures
    Big-ass toaster, hit you with it, flip it over
    Big ol' nigga, he's a big ol' goofy, Rudy Gobert
    Jump off in that lane, you gon' get put on a poster
    LaFerrari F8, Lamborghini Roadster
    I turn ten bricks into twelve, them birds had a growth spurt
    We gon' do some shoppin' later, I'ma need some throat first
    I just got some head in a Ghost, then I ghost her
    Yeah, yeah, out of here, your boyfriend a gopher
    I see him out with her, I pretend like I don't know her
    I can't do no features with you, nigga, it's a: No, sir
    Hardest nigga on Earth, I'm not really from Earth
    We don't dial 9-1-1, I let off that chrome first
    I put in my own work, better do your homework
    I can hear that money callin', I pick up the first ring
    What you gon' charge that old man for that pussy?
    Girl, don't hurt me

    Iced out all my scammer hoes, boost all they insurance up
    Iced out all my ghetto hoes who turned into influencers
    Smurkio, fuck that bitch and leave, I don't care who she fuck
    Air shit out her closet, it's hot as hell, she got on Yeezy UGGS
    I got moes with me, Bump out the feds, mean I got foes with me
    You got goofies with you, before I do that, I keep some hoes with me
    Askin' for my gun when I'm in Cali', nigga, this your city
    Why you DM'in' my bitch actin' like we fuck? These hoes below-semi
    Street niggas want ramen, I don't like calamari
    Took her out that cheap shit, took her to Bvlgari
    Never tell her: Sorry, this car a Ferrari
    Off set with this Cuban link, you think she was Cardi, go (This Chicago, nigga, go)

    Continúa después del anuncio

    Three gang leaders with me all times
    I don't know who I fucked last night, I got Alzheimer's
    I don't know who them hoes is, man, they all lyin'
    Brody, tell me who them hoes is, man, they all fine
    Runnin' hooligans, and we with the foolishness
    How I'm anti-Semitic? I just fucked a Jewish bitch
    I just fucked Scooter's bitch and we ran her like Olympics
    Got pregnant in the threesome, so whose baby is it?
    Whose baby is it?
    My niggas puttin' belt to ass, pull up with the switches
    This ain't Jimmy Butler, but the heat got extensions
    This ain't Columbine, but we came in with the trenches

    She askin' me to aim for her neck, 'cause her boyfriend bought that necklace
    With the trenches, precious, with the trenches
    Fuck it, I scratched another nigga woman up off my checklist
    With the trenches, I've been livin' reckless
    I wish Takeoff wasn't there that night in Houston, Texas (With the trenches)
    Wish I could bring G.Ca$$o back, that was my best friend
    Chordz, I need you to give me somethin' big, I'm talkin' 'bout dollar signs
    Skinny pants flow, tell the ho: No, I don't wanna fuck
    She can suck-suck-suck it 'til she suck it dry
    California nigga with some European freaks
    Bad-ass bitch from the Middle E-E-E-East wanna lick on me
    Stick on me, even though I got security
    Even though she got a man, she know he ain't as pure as me, seriously
    Soon as I get back, tradin' in my Urus for the Puro' keys
    Couple grey hairs up in my beard, that's showin' my maturity, yeah
    Ayy, shoutout to my symphony
    9th Ave, Spaced Out, we did that shit so differently and brilliantly
    Dolla $ign, Iggy, and we birth YG
    Fades in the backyard, no talkin', take flight instantly
    Ayy, Nate 3D, boot up my nigga, James Koo
    My nigga, that's D.R.U.G.$
    She snortin' that P out the D
    She want me to put some of this coke in her butt, ugh
    She Russian, I beat up the pussy for Ukraine
    Bought her a bag and I filled it with loose change
    Just like my exes, she told me that: You changed, yeah, yeah, yeah
    Dolla'd done rather be fuckin' it up
    Still screamin': Free TC, Melly, and Thug
    Fuck the police, the DA, and the judge
    Way out in Saudi, I found me a plug
    Don't wanna go out, she'd rather do drugs
    Can't be my main if we met in the club, ooh

    Give me somethin', bitch, I'm talkin' 'bout dollar signs
    Look it here, ho, I don't wanna fuck
    Here's a buck, but a buck, buck, buck
    I'm shootin', game to light that
    Give me somethin', bitch, I'm talkin' 'bout dollar signs
    Look it here, ho, I don't wanna fuck
    Here's a buck, but a buck, buck, buck
    I'm shootin', game to light that

    Game to light that
    Game to light that
    Game to light that
    Game to light that
    Game to light that

    Información de la canción

    Composición:

    ¿Los datos están equivocados?

    Enviar revisión