Сайт фанатов группы «КуБа»

[Intro]
Buh! Buh! Buh! Buh! Buh! Buh!
Buh! Buh! Buh! Buh! Buh!
Pussy man I smoke that organic
Fendi down I’m smoking organic

[Verse]
Effin and I’m smoking organic
She menaging, need some more breath
I got smoke all in the air
Fuck this up and you get left
(Fuck it up and air it out!)
AP on my fucking left
Stack it up right on the shelf
Yo bitch look for me in ya
I got drip all in this walk
I got cash, I let it walk
I’ma do this by myself
On the jet by by myself
I touchdown and shoot the gas tank
I touchdown and get my fingers wet
My bitch giving G.O.A.T. head
Riding ’round on mopeds
My bitch off the percocets
Pop that bean and count them deads
Yeah she suck me I can’t feel my legs
My bih yucky, she don’t use no hands
Dancefloor wit the diamonds dancing
Dancefloor wit the diamonds dancing
That where you can’t buy them bags
In LA I smoke that gas
In LA in link with slatt
Them bitch we keep, she gave it back
I fuck that bitch and gave her back
I nut on her, she make me ‘lax
That gun on me I cannot lack
Your bitch right, she got it clapped
Looking dap boy, young gone get clapped
I took that lil boy right off the map
We killed that boy right here, right in the trap
I am on lean, I fucked around and relapsed
I fucked that bih, he running round in laps
You touchdown in my city, you better tap
That bitch right here, she know she gotta tap
I seen that bitch runnin’ round in Nudy cat
That bitch with me and now she on that pack
Im in south side, and I’m weighin’ the crack
I’m in south side, yeah, and I got the gat
I’m in south side, and I hang with blatt
I’m in south side, yeah, yeah, yea,h yeah, yeah

[Chorus]
Too much lean, too much ice
One more pint, one more pint
Too much lean, too much ice
One more pint, one more pint
One more pint, one more pint
One more pint, one more pint
Too much lean, too much ice
One more pint, one more pint

[Intro: Playboi Carti]
Hold up
You know what I’m saying?
You know I seen Keisha and them back there
Yeah, Keisha
That muhfucker ring a lil’ bit
You know what I’m saying?
Know what I’m saying, real playa shit
Me and my bitch lit
Yeah, me and my homie
We do this shit with my hitman
I said we do this shit for a big boy Patek
Walk in that shit, take over that thing

[Chorus: Playboi Carti]
I’m in the hood where niggas don’t bother me (check it out)
Thirty-five hunnid my cardigan (check it out)
Shawty gon’ fuck, shawty gon’ swallow me (check it out)
Shawty gon’ get on top of me (what, what, what)
All of this ice in the summertime
Ain’t no boys fucking with Carti, nah!

[Verse: Red Coldhearted and Playboi Carti]
I’m in this bitch with young Carti (Carti)
Riding ’round with the top down
All of these bitches so naughty (what)
They tryna fuck on us right now (uh)
If Carti with it, then I’m ridin’
Got a hunnid on the neck
Ain’t no stopping, bitch, I’m poppin’
You see this Rollie and this chain
Bitch, I’m so icy, I’m cocky
Just dropped a fifty on my jeweler
And told him “Make sure it’s shiny!”
It’s Coldhearted and she got a stick
Right beside me, I’ma let it hit
I ain’t really with the sucker shit
These niggas around me, you know they with it, yeah
These niggas around me you know they with it, yeah
They toting the Glocks and the dirty sticks, yeah
A pack of hunters, they gon’ pull up quick, yeah
They ready for war, yeah, you know they with it, yeah

[Bridge: Playboi Carti]
Me and my bitch lit, yeah, me and my homie
We do this shit with my hitman
You know what I’m saying?
I can’t really complain about shit, man
(I said we do this shit for a big boy Patek)
Everything good, you know what I’m saying?
(Walk in that shit with my bih Red)
(Sippin’ red drink nigga!)
Don’t give a fuck what it look like

[Chorus: Playboi Carti]
I’m in the hood where niggas don’t bother me (check it out)
Thirty-five hunnid my cardigan (check it out)
Shawty gon’ fuck, shawty gon’ swallow me (check it out)
Shawty gon’ get on top of me (what, what, what)
Out at his house in the summertime
Ain’t no boys fucking with Carti, nah!
I’m in the hood where niggas don’t bother me (check it out)
Thirty-five hunnid my cardigan (check it out)
Shawty gon’ fuck, shawty gon’ swallow me (check it out)
Shawty gon’ get on top of me (what, what, what)
Out at his house in the summertime
Ain’t no boys fucking with Carti, nah!
I’m in the hood where niggas don’t bother me (check it out)
Thirty-five hunnid my cardigan (check it out)
Shawty gon’ fuck, shawty gon’ swallow me (check it out)
Shawty gon’ get on top of me (what, what, what)
Out at his house in the summertime
Ain’t no boys fucking with Carti, nah!
I’m in the hood where niggas don’t bother me (check it out)
Thirty-five hunnid my cardigan (check it out)
Shawty gon’ fuck, shawty gon’ swallow me (check it out)
Shawty gon’ get on top of me (what, what, what)
Out at his house in the summertime
Ain’t no boys fucking with Carti, nah!

[Chorus: Playboi Carti]
I fell in love, fell in love
But that’s okay, ’cause we in love
Oh my God, fell in love
I fell in love, with the love
Show me love, now give me love
Fell in love, I fell in love
I want in, for the love
Just show me love, just show me love
I fell in love, I fell in love
And that’s okay, ’cause I’m in love

[Verse 1: Playboi Carti]
We in that bed, give me head
I want that, just a stick
Close your eyes, don’t shed no tears
Keep it dark, close the shades
I’m off the pills, you on that lean
You fuck me slow, girl do your thing
Let’s take some pictures, let’s take some scenes
Playboy magazine
She got her panties down, with no tee
She got her titties out, she want a tee
She tatted up now, I see you see
I know you see, I know you see us
You know I want that bih, I wanna eat her
I wanna lick it up, I wanna fuck her (aye)
I want to freeze you up, I want them diamonds blingin’
I want it all on you, I want you all on me
Ooh

[Chorus: Playboi Carti]
I fell in love, fell in love
But that’s okay, ’cause we in love
Oh my God, fell in love
I fell in love, with the love
Show me love, now give me love
Fell in love, I fell in love
I want in, for the love
Just show me love, just show me love

[Verse 2: Bryson Tiller]
Lil’ ma fly, she gotta fly now
Got a squad now, got a drop now
She club hoppin’, jewelry shoppin’
Girl you shinin’, girl you finin’
Yeah, you fine as wine, frozen like diamonds (dime piece)
I treat you like my last dime
Go broke, no joke
I cut these hoes off, I kill the roll call
I put the doors up, she like to show off
Them bitches sleepy, them bitches dosed off
I put a ring on it, it ain’t got a ring to it
On my knees for you, watch me do how he ain’t do it
I cannot speak for you, but I know that he ain’t fluent
I speak your language, he don’t tell you things do he?
Like “Girl, you dangerous”
Girl I ain’t seen beauty, not ’til I seen you
Don’t you cheat like Queen do
Yeah, yeah, yeah
Let me sing to you, let this be the theme music

[Chorus: Playboi Carti]
I fell in love, fell in love
But that’s okay, ’cause we in love
Oh my God, fell in love
I fell in love, with the love
Show me love, now give me love
Fell in love, I fell in love
I want in, for the love
Just show me love, just show me love
I fell in love, I fell in love
And that’s okay, ’cause I’m in love

[Intro: Chief Keef]
Yea, let’s get it
Bitch, brr

[Chorus: Playboi Carti & Chief Keef]
Miley Cyrus, catchin’ bodies
Don’t care, that pussy got some mileage, mileage
Don’t care, your pussy got some mileage, mileage
Don’t care, your pussy got some mileage, mileage
Miley Cyrus, catchin’ bodies
Don’t care, your pussy got some mileage, mileage
Don’t care, that pussy got some mileage, mileage
Don’t care, your pussy got some mileage, mileage

[Verse 1: Playboi Carti]
Ohh, Miley Cyrus
Ohh Yeah, Miley, Miley
Ohh Yeah, Miley Cyrus
Ohh, Miley, Miley
Wings where
Ohh yea, Kylie, Kylie
Ohh yea, Calabasas
Ohh yea, Kendall, Kylie
Adidas deal
Ohh, shoutout Kanye
Crazy girls, every Friday

[Chorus: Playboi Carti & Chief Keef]
Miley Cyrus, catchin’ bodies
Don’t care, that pussy got some mileage, mileage
Don’t care, your pussy got some mileage, mileage
Don’t care, your pussy got some mileage, mileage
Miley Cyrus, catchin’ bodies
Don’t care, your pussy got some mileage, mileage
Don’t care, that pussy got some mileage, mileage
Don’t care, your pussy got some mileage, mileage

[Verse 2: Chief Keef]
Malibu, that’s casual
Got the Michael Duke
Fit you with grab the tool
I’m with them animals
It’s a real nigga, annual
Your hoe on automatic, put her on manual
She can’t handle me, handle me and Betty Boop
You’re lookin’ for me, I’m on Saks Fifth Avenue
I just went and bought me some flashbangs
You can disappear, disrespectin’ that gang
Choppa go, ratata
You talkin’ rarara
She got more mileage than a car-haha
And she just pull up to the spot

[Chorus: Playboi Carti & Chief Keef]
Miley Cyrus, catchin’ bodies
Don’t care, that pussy got some mileage, mileage
Don’t care, your pussy got some mileage, mileage
Don’t care, your pussy got some mileage, mileage
Miley Cyrus, catchin’ bodies
Don’t care, your pussy got some mileage, mileage
Don’t care, that pussy got some mileage, mileage
Don’t care, your pussy got some mileage, mileage

[Intro]
Yo Pi’erre, you wanna come out here?

[Chorus]
Old money, new hoe (beep)
Old money, new hoe (what?)
Old money, new hoe (what? What?)
Old money, new hoe
Old swag, new flow
Old swag, new flow (flow flow)
Old money, new hoe (beep)
Old money new flow (flow what)

[Verse 1]
Bad bitch, love the pole (what)
Sip the four, Actavis (woah)
Sip it slow, kickin’ shit (lean, woah)
Oh Pi’erre, come in here
Got some hoes they upstairs
I need two hoes, I need two pairs (what? What?)
My chain too cold, chandelier
Pretty boy, huh, manicure
You need a code just to come in here (oh)
Only 21 feel like a bachelor (Playboi)
Pretty bitch, baddest thing in here (uh)

[Chorus]
Old money, new hoe (what?)
Old money, new hoe (what?)
Old money, new hoe (what? What?)
Old money, new hoe

[Verse 2]
Ooh ooh, damn I feel my self
Left my bitch at home (Playboi), told her fuck herself
Did it on my own (huh), made it by myself (Playboi)
And I keep a tec, boy I keep the stare
Leave a nigga wet, boy I got the well
Grab it off the shelf (huh, Playboi, Playboi)
She said she need a pair, spend it on myself (cash)
Got like three phones (phones), Apple not a pear
Got like three hoes (brrr), I do not compare
In the trap we selling crack come here (huh)
Momma shed a tear (ooh)
In the trap we cookin’ up a meal (ooh)
Cookies in the shelf
My diamonds target self, like I’m Michael Phelps

[Chorus]
Old money, new hoe (what?)
Old money, new hoe (what?)
Old money, new hoe (what?)
Old money, new hoe