T. G. I. F. Songtext
(feat. Chip Tha Ripper)
Verse 1:
Knock Knock cudi open up dis chip
Gotta kush pack shells
And some henni we could sip
Keep a couple dolla's on
Give a penny to bitch
But im wit a couple ho's
Who said they really wanna get
Verse 1:
Knock Knock cudi open up dis chip
Gotta kush pack shells
And some henni we could sip
Keep a couple dolla's on
Give a penny to bitch
But im wit a couple ho's
Who said they really wanna get
Aquainted with some nigga's
Who, ain't the average nigga's
They just wanna see why
All they girlfriends be wanting pictures
I be flyer then a hundred navs
Worth a hundred hundrend stacks
I ain't gonna stop shoppin
Till i hit a hundred sacks
Although that's a given
I ain't even gotta mint chain
Candy old school
Put you nigga's in detention
Slabbed nigga's deeped up
Tool in the cloths
I'm just a young fresh fly
Fool wit some gold
Ayyy, what it do my dude
I'm livin life dawg what about you
And I ain't even gotta tell a lie My swag, my steez gotta nigga sky high
So I'm, watchin my moves
From the shoes on the Coup'
Be damned if a nigga ain't high to the roof
Pimp tight get it right homey more or less
Gotta thank god I'm fresh
Oh I rearrange faces when I drop,
I'm super duper cudi,
Candy paint the rag top
Can't nobody even tell me
I'm sippin when I lean
Forgive me to my fans,
I'm country till decease
Pleaseee,
I stay up on my creep so to come up
Gatta look the part, superstar, in those stunnas
Imma say some shit that make you think I lost my mind
I'm the only nigga that could watch the sun and don't go blind
She fine as she wannabe
But she wanna check though
Dodging and popping pictures,
Like the hoes was working with the law
Back at shaker pictures, tryna play me to the left
Now I pick the hoes I want,
And give my niggas what is left
I don't kno if it's the name or the bape don bottoms
Keep them on sleep them 501's
You can't knock em
Use to have the honda with the 30 day tags
That was in the past
NOW I'm thin(kin) bout to throw em on the JAG
Ayyy, what it do my dude
I'm livin life dawg what about you
And I ain't even gotta tell a lie
My swag, my steez gotta nigga sky high
So I'm, watchin my moves
From the shoes on the Coup'
Be damned if a nigga ain't high to the roof
Pimp tight get it right homey more or less
Gotta thank god I'm fresh
(Thanks to jenikins for correcting these lyrics)
Who, ain't the average nigga's
They just wanna see why
All they girlfriends be wanting pictures
I be flyer then a hundred navs
Worth a hundred hundrend stacks
I ain't gonna stop shoppin
Till i hit a hundred sacks
Although that's a given
I ain't even gotta mint chain
Candy old school
Put you nigga's in detention
Slabbed nigga's deeped up
Tool in the cloths
I'm just a young fresh fly
Fool wit some gold
Ayyy, what it do my dude
I'm livin life dawg what about you
And I ain't even gotta tell a lie My swag, my steez gotta nigga sky high
So I'm, watchin my moves
From the shoes on the Coup'
Be damned if a nigga ain't high to the roof
Pimp tight get it right homey more or less
Gotta thank god I'm fresh
Oh I rearrange faces when I drop,
I'm super duper cudi,
Candy paint the rag top
Can't nobody even tell me
I'm sippin when I lean
Forgive me to my fans,
I'm country till decease
Pleaseee,
I stay up on my creep so to come up
Gatta look the part, superstar, in those stunnas
Imma say some shit that make you think I lost my mind
I'm the only nigga that could watch the sun and don't go blind
She fine as she wannabe
But she wanna check though
Dodging and popping pictures,
Like the hoes was working with the law
Back at shaker pictures, tryna play me to the left
Now I pick the hoes I want,
And give my niggas what is left
I don't kno if it's the name or the bape don bottoms
Keep them on sleep them 501's
You can't knock em
Use to have the honda with the 30 day tags
That was in the past
NOW I'm thin(kin) bout to throw em on the JAG
Ayyy, what it do my dude
I'm livin life dawg what about you
And I ain't even gotta tell a lie
My swag, my steez gotta nigga sky high
So I'm, watchin my moves
From the shoes on the Coup'
Be damned if a nigga ain't high to the roof
Pimp tight get it right homey more or less
Gotta thank god I'm fresh
(Thanks to jenikins for correcting these lyrics)
WORTH, CHARLES JAWANZAA / FITTS, ALEX N / MESCUDI, SCOTT N / PENTILLA, MATT N
© Ultra Tunes
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© Ultra Tunes
Songtext powered by LyricFind