Tyga — I’m done текст песни (слова) lyrics

How you gon hate on me in the club?
Nig*a I ain’t even in the club! Haha

[Verse 1]
Killa nig*a, last king roll up on ‘em in a Bentley
Mothaf*cka, gorilla, go getter, hoe getter
Hoe ni*ga better hold yours ni*ga
I’m sick, throw up, throw up this liquor

Mo’ money I got it
B*tches ain’t problems not to me
Yeah they bout it, Master P so many albums on release
Sh*t in my closet, Louboutan and bloody bottoms

B*tches spot em yeah I’m stylin
Tyga pilot, fly no mileage yeah I put them b*tches on it
California man, gold on my license plate
Ladies’ man, baby I know what them b*tches like

Little mic, mike n ikes, candy color cover ice
Outta sight, outta mind
She gon spend the night but don’t waste my time
I’m 2 miles away from the Hollywood sign

King of the hill ni*ga don’t look down
Probably at Polo house right now
All these b*tches on the prowl

[Verse 2]
Look at my flow look at my eyes
Tell me what you see don’t lie
Mo’f*ckin G R to the E A to the T EST
Last king look at my ring tell that b*tch get off my thing
My girl ain’t here and she off that drink

I’m off that mink
Fur murder swervin’ make the jet ski do a hurdle
You’s a motherf*ckin turtle knock you down like Berto
Straps on my side like Urkle, boy I’ll hurt you
Turn your face purple

Niggas wanna talk but your convo worthless
These converse yeah all black chuckers
I’m that ni*ga, you just a ni*ga
One more year, yeah I’ma be bigger
Don’t call me Tigga, jack the ripper
Rip these beats then I eat you for dinner
I’m done!

Понравилась статья? Поделиться с друзьями:
Будь на позитиве