Young Thug — On Fire

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Текст Young Thug — On Fire

Don’t make him mad, he’ll put a side bitch on you
(Side bitch on you, Jeff, hey)
Don’t make him mad, he’ll put that side bitch on ’em (Skrt, skrt)
(Side bitch on ’em, hey)
You made him mad, he put you right back on the shelf (Hold on)
(Right back on the, yah)
You made him mad, he put you right back where you started
(Right back where you started, hah)
(Wheezy Beatz)

Ain’t got no more wristbands— (Woah, woah, woah, woah)
Yeah, boutta stack up my figures, ayy (Woah, woah, woah, woah)
Fuck you thought? Pussy ass nigga
Hop off a jet (Hop off a jet), hop off a jet (Hop off a skrrt)
Hop off a jet (Hop off a jet), hop off a jet (Hold on, hold on)
(Wheezy Beatz)

Shot that boy so many times, he caught on fire (Ayy)
Every single night, I’m spittin’ fire
Tryna count my profit, baby, watch ’em
I’m tired of one, I need to threesome (Umm, hey)
I need a threesome (Threesome, hey)
God, give me a threesome (Ohh, hey)
Three-three-three-three-three-three-threesome, ayy (Threesome)

Push the head up and be strong (Ayy)
Every city I leave, I lean on (Yah)
Ashes in the Bentley, I’m dead wrong
Wooden room in my Japanese home (Ahh)
Rockin’ Guess in my Japanese drawers (Rockin’ Guess)
My friends signed my Japanese wall (Yeah)
Vintage clothes, they kinda cost (Kinda cost, ayy)
I think you lost, baby girl I think you lost, but (Hey. yeah)

Don’t make him mad, he’ll put a side bitch on you
(Side bitch on you, Jeff, hey)
Don’t make him mad, he’ll put that side bitch on ’em
(Side bitch on ’em, hey)
You made him mad, he put you right back on the shelf
(Right back on the, yah)
You made him mad, he put you right back where you started
(Right back where you started, yeah)

Ain’t got no more wristbands, but I got bands on me (Yeah)
Ain’t got no more wristbands, but I got bands on me (I got bands on me)
I’m in love with my clan, boutta tat they names on me (Names on me)
You can’t trick me like I got the answers tatted on me, and ain’t got no scratches on me (Oh yeah)

I got a ratchet ho, and I got this ratchet on me (Got that ratchet on me)
My life like dominoes, I can’t make mistakes lil’ homie (On God)
Ayy, I ain’t got no scratches nowhere (Nowhere)
I got good skin like a Covergirl (Hey)
You can come and chill with me (Vibe with me)
Let’s drink a pint of codeine (Lean, lean)
Plus when she on syrup she a lil easy
Breezy Beautiful Thugger Girls with me
Enjoy the wealth until you’re gone (Ayy)
Pillsbury Doughboy on strong
Wearing the seat belt just ’cause my son
I put a puddle on the neck of my son (Neck)
I got some Act, I got some red in my tummy (I got that red)
I want some velvet on my Maybach in a month (On God)
I got the Benz, still ain’t traded in or nothin’ (Skrrt)
I got like twenty cars, baby pick one (Hey, yeah)

Don’t make him mad, he’ll put a side bitch on you
(Side bitch on you, Jeff, hey)
Don’t make him mad, he’ll put that side bitch on ’em
(Side bitch on ’em, hey)
You made him mad, he put you right back on the shelf
(Right back on the, yah)
You made him mad, he put you right back where you started
(Right back where you started, yeah)

Ain’t got no more wristbands, but I got bands on me (Yeah)
Ain’t got no more wristbands, but I got bands on me (I got bands on me)
I’m in love with my clan, boutta tat they names on me (Names on me)
You can’t trick me like I got the answers tatted on me, and ain’t got no scratches on me (Oh yeah)

Got blood, right on my boots, mm
You kick ’em, that bitch the swoop, mm
How dare you, I keep the ruler (Grraahh), mm
My chains, I’m Rick the Ruler, mm
That’s foreign, ain’t old school, mm
We killin’, ain’t tryna sue you, mm
Came a long way from ramen noodles, mm
2017 Porshes zoom, mm
I see you eatin’ girl, you full, mhm
Got Molly in my Red Bull, ah-huh
I’m with the dogs, and, yeah, we cruel, uh-huh
Everything you do be fire like you, ohh-oh

Don’t make him mad, he’ll put a side bitch on you
(Side bitch on you, Jeff, hey)
Don’t make him mad, he’ll put that side bitch on ’em (Skrt, skrt)
(Side bitch on ’em, hey)
You made him mad, he put you right back on the shelf (Hold on)
(Right back on the, yah)
You made him mad, he put you right back where you started
(Right back where you started, hah)
(Wheezy Beatz)

Ain’t got no more wristbands— (Woah, woah, woah, woah)
Yeah, boutta stack up my figures, ayy (Woah, woah, woah, woah)
Fuck you thought? Pussy ass nigga
Hop off a jet (Hop off a jet), hop off a jet (Hop off a skrrt)
Hop off a jet (Hop off a jet), hop off a jet (Hold on, hold on)
(Wheezy Beatz)