CORRECT LYRICS
Lyrics : Top Dolla
(E-E-E-Enrgy made this one)
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, woah
What?
Penthouse suite, top floor
Prices got cheap, we just let 'em go
Woah, watch my n***a spend a hundred K on a plain watch
Told him, "Give me ten more days, I'ma get me one"
Two-hundred occasion (What you do?), I gave 'em (I gave)
Thumbin' through the payment in the rental car from Avis (Backend)
Withdraw on that Wocky, I shrivel up like a raisin (Real)
My n***a Trip black as hell, but he sell caucasian (Jungle fever)
White dopе, I sell it to my white folks
I ain't racist 'bout that paper, I ain't goin' brokе
Pint of Hi-Tech red (Mud), gotta put that sh*t up on your head
I got bad b*t*hes textin' me like, "Where you at?"
Walkin' out of St. Regis with fifty in my britches
Get the drank dirt cheap when I go cross the bridge (Woah)
Count a hundred-fifty bucks out, it got me dizzy
Spend it, I f**ked off an eighty ball with Izzy (Necklace)
Let her wear my chain, got my pendant on her t**ties (Look)
Off the yacht to the jet just to see the Grizzlies (Book)
Jason said, "You cuttin' it close, you got a show, you trippin'" (Woah)
I'm not missin' that cornbread, be there in a jiffy (Gone)
They said that it gotta be in you, it can't be on you (Woah)
But I got it in me and it's on me, what you want?
Woah, poker face when I see the plug, we talkin' business
Plain Richard Millie, so them white folks take me serious
In a meetin' with 'em, legs crossed, hand on my chin (Grin)
Tryna negotiate me a label deal for ten
I want in, I won't drop the ball, I bet we win
Woah, they be like, "Trip, is you sellin' fent'?" Nah
Five red b*t*hes, that's a— (Take your time, hold up)
Five red b*t*hes, that's a fin ball
Two bricks of soft in the loft
Hit it and you winnin' in the kitchen like it's golf (Kitchen like it's golf)
Was tryna get it off, so I front him what he bought
I don't talk numbers with runners, sh*t, n***a, I'm a boss
And we gon' drop you off, talkin' 'bout you ain't tryna spin
I'm throwed, I be thinkin' 'bout a soul when I grin
N***as hoes, I had 'bows way before it was a trend (Soft a** n***a)
Only rap beef I had died before it ever began (On my mama)
Real street n***a trappin', gettin' high and smokin' cigs
Could turn it back to drop, blow it up and make it big
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, woah
What?
Penthouse suite, top floor
Prices got cheap, we just let 'em go
Woah, watch my n***a spend a hundred K on a plain watch
Told him, "Give me ten more days, I'ma get me one"
Two-hundred occasion (What you do?), I gave 'em (I gave)
Thumbin' through the payment in the rental car from Avis (Backend)
Withdraw on that Wocky, I shrivel up like a raisin (Real)
My n***a Trip black as hell, but he sell caucasian (Jungle fever)
White dopе, I sell it to my white folks
I ain't racist 'bout that paper, I ain't goin' brokе
Pint of Hi-Tech red (Mud), gotta put that sh*t up on your head
I got bad b*t*hes textin' me like, "Where you at?"
Walkin' out of St. Regis with fifty in my britches
Get the drank dirt cheap when I go cross the bridge (Woah)
Count a hundred-fifty bucks out, it got me dizzy
Spend it, I f**ked off an eighty ball with Izzy (Necklace)
Let her wear my chain, got my pendant on her t**ties (Look)
Off the yacht to the jet just to see the Grizzlies (Book)
Jason said, "You cuttin' it close, you got a show, you trippin'" (Woah)
I'm not missin' that cornbread, be there in a jiffy (Gone)
They said that it gotta be in you, it can't be on you (Woah)
But I got it in me and it's on me, what you want?
Woah, poker face when I see the plug, we talkin' business
Plain Richard Millie, so them white folks take me serious
In a meetin' with 'em, legs crossed, hand on my chin (Grin)
Tryna negotiate me a label deal for ten
I want in, I won't drop the ball, I bet we win
Woah, they be like, "Trip, is you sellin' fent'?" Nah
Five red b*t*hes, that's a— (Take your time, hold up)
Five red b*t*hes, that's a fin ball
Two bricks of soft in the loft
Hit it and you winnin' in the kitchen like it's golf (Kitchen like it's golf)
Was tryna get it off, so I front him what he bought
I don't talk numbers with runners, sh*t, n***a, I'm a boss
And we gon' drop you off, talkin' 'bout you ain't tryna spin
I'm throwed, I be thinkin' 'bout a soul when I grin
N***as hoes, I had 'bows way before it was a trend (Soft a** n***a)
Only rap beef I had died before it ever began (On my mama)
Real street n***a trappin', gettin' high and smokin' cigs
Could turn it back to drop, blow it up and make it big