YoungBoy Never Broke Again — Expensive Taste
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Текст YoungBoy Never Broke Again — Expensive Taste
(D-Roc, D-Roc)
Fuck them racks, I keep a card, I got the Glock in the middle
Know I’ma spin ’bout my nigga
I told her hit me on the way, when she headin’ home
I’ma have it lookin’ nice when she get here
Real hitta, bad nigga, expensive bottle for bitches
Main nigga wit’ millions, straight from the bottom my nigga
Gravedigga’ and you know that he don’t tolerate mentions
Dirty choppa if he ever got a problem with niggas
Big issues, he ain’t trippin’ ’cause his sack thicker
Wonder how she feel that she finna get married to that nigga
Got to know I’m ready, she know I been waitin’ plenty minutes
And she too bad for them jeans, can’t do no skinny dippin’
Ain’t never worried ’bout these niggas, I do the realest pimpin’
Mink coat, styrofoam dope, how I walk up in it
From off the porch, they’ll never know how these diamonds glistening
Made it out, young nigga been on suicidal missions
I got on gang attire nigga, this be the best of linen
Ride in a Lincoln, when linkin’, no I don’t need your lendin’
She think she got one up on me
I blew a bag on my homie
I got a chance and I boned it
Think all these niggas are phony
Wake up and smoke in the mornin’
I rep that flag wit’ my blood
These niggas know that I’m on it
I let off shots in the club
And these bitches wan’ be my mommy
But you know you not my girl
Flood her finger with diamonds
No, I can’t turn up your world
This a new gee-ski, better have your shit together when you see me
Nigga know I’m covered down in green
But for a fact, I’m bleedin’
Nigga knowin’ that I’m strapped
You better clap soon as you see me
Won’t buy her anything, but flood my sister for any reason
Cocaine white like I’m sellin’ drugs
That’s a new foreign off the lot for my thug, why?
Cause he been wit’ me way before I even knew who I was
Lil shorty wit’ me and she got me, she don’t care ’bout no buzz
1942 get her drunk, no, she don’t leave wit’ a buzz
The feds on me, watch how I talk, I think they planted a bug
What the fuck wrong wit’ me?
Spent a couple million, wake up then the label sent another million
Ain’t no slippin’, on my pimpin’, got it on me know I’m grippin’
Every time I sent a blitz, they zipped ’em, rare they fail a mission
‘Cause they know we get it done, as usual, how we come
Let ’em keep thinkin’ I’m dumb, I’m never done
Check how my pockets, got them mumps
Check how them draco’s got them drums
Make a beat like a band, flood her wit’ bands
Make her so hot, they gon’ think she got a tan
Nigga know I’m known to bust my gun
For a fact I ain’t never ran, this who I am
Better speak clear or I can’t hear what you sayin’
Fuck them racks, I keep a card, I got the Glock in the middle
Know I’ma spin ’bout my nigga
I told her hit me on the way, when she headin’ home
I’ma have it lookin’ nice when she get here
Real hitta, bad nigga, expensive bottle for bitches
Made nigga wit’ millions, straight from the bottom my nigga
Gravedigga’ and you know he don’t tolerate mentions
Dirty choppa if he ever got a problem with niggas
Dirty cutter, crazy how a choppa clean up the block
Won fights inside the hood
Lost fights inside the block, it never stop
Come from the ground, I ain’t use a crane, I rushed to top
Play wit’ them glizzys like Shmurda, they know that lil’ nigga hot
And I got ten cars, I ain’t never showed the shit that I got
I could have ten broads
But ain’t nothin’ worth the bitch on my side
Could be the best one recordin’
But ain’t nothin’ worth Jason spot
I get in, then hit it hard, then I cum on her twat
He can be a robber, bet that nigga won’t stick his hand in my pocket
Cut off his arm, bet he won’t say that he took off on AI
I had it hard, I walked on feet, but now fly on a G5
Hope he don’t think he could G me, I ain’t goin for no G, five
And that my blood, he get it brackin’, he got to war when we firin’
Yeah, that my 10 to then end, we gon’ spin
Got Dior on my glasses, and got Nick behind the lens
Just me, my sister, my mama and girl, no I don’t need no friends
But I don’t got a gun, I got a knife for when they kickin’ in
I’m sleepin’ lightly through the night, just in case Casper in
I got them capsules in New York, and they got molly in it
Imagine every friend wit’ the shit, just don’t let holly in
Fuck them racks, I keep a card, I got the Glock in the middle
Finna buy a flight and get away after I pop me a nigga
I take a flight and get away ’cause I can’t tolerate niggas
Gotta get mine, straight out the gate
Hustlin’ for more than eight figures
Fuck that money, got a black card, my Glock in the middle
Know I’ma spin ’bout my niggas
He this and that, but tell me how the fuck do they figure
He worried ’bout any one these niggas or these bitches (How, how)
Fuck them racks, I keep a card, I got the Glock in the middle
Know I’ma spin ’bout my nigga
I told her hit me on the way, when she headin’ home
I’ma have it lookin’ nice when she get here
Real hitta, band nigga, expensive bottle for bitches
Made nigga wit’ millions, straight from the bottom my nigga
Gravedigga’ and you know he don’t tolerate mentions
Dirty choppa if he ever got a problem with niggas
(It’s Slimeto, Lil Top, AI
YoungBoy, nigga, Kentrell)