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Lyrics Famous Dex – Like wow

Hold up wait, turn me up sis
Hold up wait, my phone wait, wait
Sci Fi on the beat
Oh Man God Damn.(wow)

Red head like Matt Hardy
F**k your lil b***h she was horny
Yeah I’m riding on the harley
I’m tatted up on my body.

I swear to God man, I got a shotty
You run up on me and catch a body
A matter fact I got a 30
Oh s**t, it’s shooting Curry
Back in the days I was broke
Man I was tryna steal some Coke
Jugging nigga sellin’ soap
Anything to get that dough
Now a nigga sellin’ out at shows
Fucking bitches all in my shows
Alexander McQueen, clean my clothes
Alexander McQueen, clean my toes
All this blue cheese on me
Can’t f**k with niggas, they phony
Playing bitches just like Sony
Or run up on me, turn into balongna
Oh yeah, all I know is money
I swear to God, I ain’t no dummy
Fat daddy, yah duh dummy
Versuri-lyrics.info
We was known for getting money
Poppin’ on pills like junkies
Sippin’ on lean ain’t funny
All these bitches they annoying me
And diamonds on me, it’s a surgery
Baby girl said she heard of me
And baby girl get away from me
And yeah, you can’t have my baby
I know you heard I was crazy
B***h I make a nigga do a flip flop
Keep talking s**t, get your s**t smashed
I ain’t with the twitter beef
And you can meet me in the streets.

Red head like Matt Hardy
F**k your lil b***h she was horny
Yeah I’m riding on the harley
I’m tatted up on my bodyyy.
Famous Dex lyrics
Video Famous Dex

A king is born
I told you before
A king is born
I told you before
A king is born

[Verse 1]
Like a beast in the jungle
In the heat of the rumble
I ain’t got nothing to lose
I’ve been fighting these hard times
In the ghettos of my mind
Now it’s victory that I choose

[Bridge]
Yes, my soul is blessed, the king is born
Mama I confess, I’m a bad, bad man

[Chorus]
Ain’t no one like me
I’m a legend
Ain’t no one like me
I’m a legend, legend
Cause I been down so long
And my crown ain’t gone, it’s destined
Ain’t no one like me
I’m a legend, legend, legend

[Verse 2]
Like a bull in a glass house
No bull, ‘bout to smash out
Can’t nothing stand in my way
I don’t care what the place is
From the penthouse to pavement
Better hear what I say

[Bridge]
Yes, my soul is blessed, the king is born
Mama I confess, I’m a bad, bad man

[Chorus]
Ain’t no one like me
I’m a legend
Ain’t no one like me
I’m a legend, legend
Cause I been down so long
And my crown ain’t gone, it’s destined
Ain’t no one like me
I’m a legend, legend, legend

[Bridge 2]
A king is born
I told you before
A king is born
Been broke before, but I never been broken
I am the truth, now the truth has spoken
A king is born
A king is born

[Chorus]
Ain’t no one like me
I’m a legend
Ain’t no one like me
I’m a legend, legend
Cause I been down so long
And my crown ain’t gone, it’s destined
Ain’t no one like me
I’m a legend, legend, legend
A king is born

We made a mill’ off a trap phone
Shawty get me in a mood
Blew a ‘hunnid on that ooh
We made a mill’ off a trap phone
Getting that paper all I do
We made a mill’ off a trap phone
We got London on da Track
I heard shawty got that, ooh

[Bridge: French Montana]
Yeah, ayy
That’s my hoe, shawty go bend it over
That’s my hoe, baby go bend it over
That’s my hoe, shawty go bend it over
That’s my hoe, baby go bend it over
That’s my hoe, my baby don’t leave me
That’s my hoe, hunnid racks on my jeans
That’s my hoe, my ice full of P’s
That’s my hoe, that’s my coupe, European
That’s my hoe, shawty go bend it over
California life, I got what you need
That’s my hoe, baby, go bend it over
That’s my hoe, shawty go bend it over
That’s my hoe, baby, go bend it over

[Hook: Quavo]
We made a mill’ off a trap phone
We made a mill’ off a trap phone (smash)
And we got the key to the streets (key)
We got your hoe on a leash (your hoe)
And I told her how to get money (money)
I taught her how to get money (money)
I taught her how to get money (money)
I taught her how to get money (money)
I taught her how to get money (money)

[Verse 1: French Montana]
Montana
Hop off Yacht, got Wraith on crew
Never trip off bitch, bitch no juice
Smoking on that La-La
Blue dot, ’till I move
You can bet your last dollar on us, we won’t lose (we won’t)
Team full of winners
Came from the trenches
From the crates now we floor seats right by the benches
Shooters hop out, mask on, Derrick Rose
I made a mill’ off a trap phone
Fucking so good she won’t leave me alone

[Hook: Quavo]
We made a mill’ off a trap phone (ayy)
We made a mill’ off a trap phone (smash)
And we got the key to the streets (key)
We got your hoe on a leash (your hoe)
And I told her how to get money (money)
I taught her how to get money (money)
I taught her how to get money (money)
I taught her how to get money (money)
I taught her how to get money (money)

[Bridge: French Montana]
That’s my hoe, shawty go bend it over
That’s my hoe, baby go bend it over
That’s my hoe, shawty go bend it over
That’s my hoe, baby, go bend it over
That’s my hoe, my baby, don’t leave me
That’s my hoe, hunnid racks on my jeans
That’s my hoe, my ice full of P’s
That’s my hoe, that’s my coupe, European
That’s my hoe, shawty go bend it over
California life, I got what you need
That’s my hoe, baby, go bend it over
That’s my hoe, shawty go bend it over
That’s my hoe, baby, go bend it over

[Verse 2: Quavo]
Look at my diamonds dancing (ayy)
Look at the bitches panic (yup)
Young nigga trappin’ out the mansion (trap)
I’m higher than the Grand Canyon (high)
You know I’m walking with the cannon (graah)
I got Dakota Fanning (white)
I’m balling shoulda played with Kansas (ball)
But I taught her how to get the Benj’s (ayy)
Call up all my homies, they ‘gon ride for me (skrrt, skrrt)
I put the work in the trunk, in the car, she ride for me (skrrt, skrrt)
All of my bitches got bitches on bitches
None of my niggas, no snitching, no snitching (nah)
Hit a lick, quarter mill’ in a cell
I taught her how to get the money, she killed it

[Hook: Quavo]
We made a mill’ off a trap phone (ayy)
We made a mill’ off a trap phone (trap)
And we got the key to the streets (key)
We got your hoe on a leash (your hoe)
And I told her how to get money (money)
I taught her how to get money (money)
I taught her how to get money (money)
I taught her how to get money (money)
I taught her how to get money (money)

[Outro: Quavo]
We made a mill’ off a trap phone

Big business
Like the opp say big business, you know what I’m saying, fucks
Yeah, now watch me

[Verse 1: Young Thug]
Handful of hunnids, real big Bentley
Hublot, nigga get some business
Whole lotta hoes, nigga get your women, heh
Stuff ‘er with the pole, come and get your women nigga
Big business, talk shit Wendy Williams, ooh
Catch ’em at the club sipping, fuck around they missing, hold on
Big pimping, iced out my crew now my mission complete
Pimp C, I ain’t doing that, I’ma fuck her on the sheets, yeah
And all my niggas loyal like Bun B, hold on
Fuck you thought? YSL till we d-i-e, hold on, hold on
Fuck around and set the bitch off like Queen Latifah
Hold on, hold on, yeah, going all out ’bout my dog like Scooby-ee
And a nigga trap door swinging like Bizzy B, woah
Outdated temporary tag on a Bentley B (Bentley B)
Two tone wire bag, double R, park it on the streets, yeah, hold on
Two tone wire bag, big tires tear up the streets, rwar
Looking at your kid, I might be the papi (sheesh)
65 pointers in the Cuban sheesh (damn, woah, sheesh)
Diamonds on the backside tearing up my skin, sheesh
Uh, your old man tryna do it like me, sheesh

[Chorus: Chance The Rapper]
Please, please
Treat me like you know who I am
Please, please
Bitch I know who I am, uh

[Verse 2: Chance The Rapper]
I got money on my card
Put some money on they books, that’s a yard
I declare war on the beast for my God, sheesh
Gross 3 mil off the new hat
If I could go back, I make the two cap
Love me in my city like Cusack
Get a little beat and I’ll loop that
Get a little money, I’ll oop that
Split it with my niggas in the group chat
Left for a minute then I flew back
Had to ask Bruce “where the truth at?”
Had to ask Rahm “where the truth at?”
Now I can’t ride with the roof back
Tell ’em I don’t play around with other people’s kids
Got an office in the steakhouse
Gotta bid for the ribs
Got a meeting at the Ritz
Gave a trip to my rib
‘Cause she leaving where I live but I see her in a min
Got a Michael prayer card for the good luck, ay
Bra push up when I pull up, ay
Got a little money from the tour, yeah
Spend it all on baby pull ups, ay
Big old Bentley, bitch I mix the Henny with the Simply
Lemonade exterior, Lorenzos under Bentleys
Put you in the friend zone if you start acting too friendly
Bought a baby Benzo and some Kenzo just for Kensli
Wake up real early but I eat late
Go and hit the streets with that brief case
Time to shake down another cheap skate
You could tell he’s lying, cheesecake

[Verse 3: Young Thug]
Make a nigga bitch tap out
Then put you in the fours with a real big body
Bitch said nigga need to stop got 100 racks on me
Can’t fit in my pocket
I’m a street nigga, I’ma eat me some soup, I’ma let my bitch eat pasta
Told y’all niggas ain’t stopping
Black card in my wallet, I’ma feed my partner
I was at one of my shows feeling like Cam’ron with the pink Margielas
We was tryna beat a murder capital, riding around the town with the pink Beretta
When I got in touch with the money, me and shawty fucked around and filled my schedule
Momma just sent me a picture got Indian in my family through my God damn nana
Young nigga fucked ’round, dropped out school, learned it all through the ID channel
Young nigga fucked around and ran out of bullets in the .40, got to get a banana
These young niggas go brazy, done got that money, they still might pop
So many blue faces on me right now, young nigga still gamble
35 racks for the factories, I steal mammals
I ain’t no rapper nigga, I teach ya
I’m a big dog, no pedigree, I eat racks
Boomerang your bitch sweet, she coming back

[Chorus: Chance The Rapper]
Please, please
Treat me like you know who I am
Please, please
Bitch I know who I am, uh

DESIIGNER
Liife Lyrics (feat. Gucci Mane)

Taz countin’ all this f**kin’ money
CashMoneyAP
Git, git, grrrrrah

Git, git, grrrrrah
Desiigner
Let me tell you how it is

I’m on some real life, shit life, real life shit
Never satisfied when you’re goin’ past rich
Throws a lot of money put some bread on caskets
They don’t wan’ see you ball they just want a draft pick
I’m on some real life, shit life, real life shit
Never satisfied when you’re goin’ past rich
Throws a lot of money put some bread on caskets
They don’t wan’ see you ball they just want a draft pick

Told me stay away from the bullshit
Stay focused, here the rhymin’
Shout to Big Blood, f**k the police
Heard Trump in the county
I seen niggas Feds
When I pulled up, yeah and he’s frownin’
Yeah niggas get bounties here
Hit the ocean, he drownin’
Bounce bitch, beat bouncin’
Hashtag, click, pound
Niggas talk shit or freestyle
f**k them, everybody stylin’
Hot 97 turn to 9/11
When the MAC 11, streets rhymin’
Pop off these diamonds
Make a DJ get down with it

I’m on some real life, shit life, real life shit
Never satisfied when you’re goin’ past rich
Throws a lot of money put some bread on caskets
They don’t wan’ see you ball they just want a draft pick
I’m on some real life, shit life, real life shit
Never satisfied when you’re goin’ past rich
Throws a lot of money put some bread on caskets (It’s Gucci)
They don’t wan’ see you ball they just want a draft pick

I’m on some real life
Real ice, this my real wife
I did real time and I lost my mind twice
On the interstate, gamblin’ like I’m shootin’ dice
I’ll drive the whole night just to get that low price
Everybody rootin’ for the underdog
But when you on the top, they wanna see you fall
But f**k ’em all
I put my back against the wall
They hate to see you ball
They wanna see a nigga crawl
Shout out to Desiigner, he be killin’ shit (Desiigner)
You gotta be a hater you not feelin’ it (f**k ’em)
G.O.O.D. Music but we make that hood music
And we ain’t gotta brag ’cause we used to it
(It’s Gucci!)

I’m on some real life, shit life, real life shit
Never satisfied when you’re goin’ past rich
Throws a lot of money put some bread on caskets
They don’t wan’ see you ball they just want a draft pick
I’m on some real life, shit life, real life shit
Never satisfied when you’re goin’ past rich
Throws a lot of money put some bread on caskets
They don’t wan’ see you ball they just want a draft pick

Funny
Desiigner
All the finest
Fill up the shooters
Man this boy gettin’ money
I’m in love with the money
Threw the hate in the fire

I’m on some real life, shit life, real life shit
Never satisfied when you’re goin’ past rich
Throws a lot of money put some bread on caskets
They don’t wan’ see you ball they just want a draft pick