Сайт фанатов группы «КуБа»

[Intro]
Boy Brick Squad
This shit the mob, nigga
Cook! Bow bow
Louney G on the track
You know!

[Pre-Chorus]
Bustin’ bags down on the counter
Right next to the money counter
Right next to the police scanner
Paid a nigga just to watch the camera
Bustin’ bags down on the counter
Bustin’ bags down on the counter
Bustin’ bags down on the counter (you know)
Bustin’ bags down on the counter
Right next to the money counter
Right next to the police scanner
Paid a nigga just to watch the camera
Bustin’ bags down on the counter
Bustin’ bags down on the counter
Bust-bustin’ bags down on the counter (you know)

[Chorus]
Trap, trap my ass off
Trap, trap my ass off
Trap, trap my ass off
Trap, trap my ass off

[Verse 1]
Yeah, you know
When the junkie hit the rock, glass jaw
Migo called my phone, said I need a fuckin’ mental [?], yeah, yeah
I’ll get a nigga poked up for some honey buns, yeah, yeah
Trap spot got plenty guns
Sold a hundred pounds, that’s a home run
Bust his head for a dirty bird
Charge him 37 for a whole one
Switch his spot, 6 month run
My flag bleedin’ like a nose run
‘Bout to crank up a new trap spot
[?] lil’ rock ’cause that [?]
And if a nigga play with my money
Then my young niggas on his ass, duck huntin’
Bringin’ quarters back like Andrew Luck
Gotta charge extra if we cook it up
Strippin’ bitches countin’ money naked
That Lamb’ truck, bitch, I gotta have it
Flex! Flex!

[Pre-Chorus]
Bustin’ bags down on the counter
Right next to the money counter
Right next to the police scanner
Paid a nigga just to watch the camera
Bustin’ bags down on the counter
Bustin’ bags down on the counter
Bustin’ bags down on the counter
Bustin’ bags down on the counter
Right next to the money counter
Right next to the police scanner
Paid a nigga just to watch the camera
Bustin’ bags down on the counter
Bustin’ bags down on the counter
Bust-bustin’ bags down on the counter (you know)

[Chorus]
Trap, trap my ass off
Trap, trap my ass off
Trap, trap my ass off
Trap, trap my ass off

[Verse 2]
Say it twice Clayco
I got that Spanish cocaine, call it J. Lo
We flip that work, take a trip to Barbados
We dropped that lean in the Faygo
You got that lean with the karo
Make that ho leave with a bankroll
I’ll put the beam on the k hole
I trap my ass off like Stoney and Hundo
Get off that work like I’m down in Diego
Clayco Clayco, Flocka connected like Lego
Hit up my migo, no Quavo
They send a mill if I say so
Play with the work, gon’ be fatal
Hole in your head like a bagel
Residue all on the table
Tourin’ and trappin’, trappin’ and tourin’
Trap house bring in what you pay for that foreign
Made junkies jump from the free throw like Jordan
Watch what you say ’cause you know they recordin’
These roosters I’m servin’ don’t chirp in the mornin’
Get rid of these babies like we do abortions
I just bought a morgue, I put bricks in the coffin
That’s on my flag, nigga
Flocka!

[Pre-Chorus]
Bustin’ bags down on the counter
Right next to the money counter
Right next to the police scanner
Paid a nigga just to watch the camera
Bustin’ bags down on the counter
Bustin’ bags down on the counter
Bustin’ bags down on the counter
Bustin’ bags down on the counter
Right next to the money counter
Right next to the police scanner
Paid a nigga just to watch the camera
Bustin’ bags down on the counter
Bustin’ bags down on the counter
Bust-bustin’ bags down on the counter (you know)

[Chorus]
Trap, trap my ass off
Trap, trap my ass off
Trap, trap my ass off
Trap, trap my ass off

[Outro]
Say it twice [?]
I got that Spanish cocaine, call it J. Lo
We flip that work, take a trip to Barbados
We dropped that lean in the Faygo
I’ll put the beam on the k hole
Flockaveli 2

[Verse 1: Chris Brown]
Bottles and a bucket full of ice (yeah)
Better make room, vroom hear the Lambo (celebrate)
Bitch better believe that I’ma sniper (yeah)
You know I’m ’bout to take you from your man though (celebrate)
Pop up with the chopper and artificial niggas actin’ like bitches, it done started up a epidemic
It don’t make a difference, nigga, we winnin’, I’m plenty grinnin’
A hundred million platinum, fuck it, you ain’t gotta listen (celebrate)
You better step down to me, feel the dick, bitch, open up your mouth for me
Now choke, talk to the dick honestly
I’m dope, bitch, comin’ like Eenie Meenie Miney Mo (celebrate)
I don’t like when I lose (I don’t), if I don’t buy her them shoes, I don’t like those (regulate)
Do anything that I want to it, think I’m gon’ dance on the moon like Michael (elevate)

[Verse 2: Joyner Lucas & Chris Brown]
While I’m drivin’, I’m moonwalking in the sky
With some shooters, we jump inside of the Buick
You duck and hide from the Rugers
A couple choppers, acoustic and the guitar
When the music, guess I’m alive and I use it
Get stuck inside of the cubics
I never lie but the truth is
I’m fuckin’ tired of these losers
And all my life want the food
When it’s summertime and the juice
But I’d rather die than to lose
It’s a matter of time ‘fore I lose it
And strategize with the movement
Walk in the trap like a boss, ooh
Hoe, you know I’m drippin’ with the sauce, ooh
Pretty with a face full of scars, all they did was build me up
Try to take me apart, they ain’t never wanna (celebrate)
Like you have a label, call the doctor
Heard the chopper make ’em do the macarena
All you niggas sweet as candy
Chocolate chip and I relate to Jolly Ranchers
Stick to bubblegum and watermelon flavored
Get the paper, I’ma (celebrate)
On the corner
Heard you niggas got the juice, but I got Corona
Got a little Spanish bitch, I call her maricona
Joyner Lucas, bitch, I’m hotter than a fuckin’ sauna
Yeah, I make you niggas (elevate)
All you new niggas don’t do it for me, look (woah)
Bitch, I’m the professor, you a student to me, woah
Designer shades on, like you cooler than me, wait (ayy)
All we do is win, you a loser to me
Rappers wanna talk about battle me (Joyner)
You can’t give me neck with a mouth full of cavities
Bunch of lil niggas tried grabbin’ me (grabbin’ me)
Five foot five, boy, you niggas like half of me
You don’t wanna see the other side of me (yeah)
Hard to make ’em happy, all these bitches stay mad at me
I just might take her ’round to Applebee’s (Applebee’s)
Give her long dick and a strawberry daiquiri

[Verse 3: Chris Brown & Joyner Lucas]
Order Cheesecake Factory, bubblin’, why you mumblin’?
Watch you utter, stop stutterin’, what you spend? Let me double it
Lime green ‘rari, two twins, call ’em double mints
If all you pussy niggas my kids are in trouble then
Shut up before I spank you for actin’ up
Now I’m wakin’ up in cabanas ’cause she bad as fuck
And all gorillas don’t want bananas ‘less your chain is tucked
You wiggity-wack with the strap, you cross-criss, make you jump
I criss-cross with the pump, ain’t no bricks in the trunk
Leave that shit for the chumps, I still get what I want
Don’t wanna believe in my mind, but you believe in my dump
I’m takin’ a knee for my side, could give a fuck ’bout they owners
Nigga, look at my eyes, you ’bout to give me my bonus
And every motherfuckin’ record, that’s a hit, I record it (celebrate)
And every motherfuckin’ snitch up in this bitch, they reported (celebrate)
You paid your way for this fade and can’t even afford it
Seventy-five mil’, look at me now (celebrate)
And all these bad bitches can’t keep their feet down (elevate)
You don’t really wanna see Brown
Need to stop all that shit, talkin’ put the seat down
Joyner, I don’t really feel these niggas
Hol’ up, I ain’t gotta pay to kill these niggas
Time is money, need to fuck around and bill these niggas
Vet, so I’m finna good will these niggas (celebrate)
I’ma kill these niggas, I should grill these niggas
Take flex, Fresh Prince, Uncle Phil these niggas
Oh shit, I’m the shit, you could smell me, nigga
Break ribs, yeah, you don’t want no real beef, nigga
I say As-salāmu ʿalaykum when I tear apart some bacon
Hoe, you actin’ like a pig, you fuckin’ filthy, nigga
Now the police tryna lock me in the prison, said I’m guilty
I said da da da da da, come and kill me, nigga

[Verse 4: Joyner Lucas, Chris Brown & Both]
They must have forgot that I’m pyscho (jheeze)
Oh, you want war? Say no more
Turn your fuckin’ block into a light show (Joyner)
You better be sure, better be sure
I’m the realest nigga, that I know
And I’m so bored, I might switch cars
Save a lotta money on Geico (jheeze)
And neighbors knockin’ on my door, what the fuck you want?
Bitch, I’m Irak (jheeze)
Listen, nigga, mind your business
I’m so sick of niggas tellin’ me how I’ve been livin’ my life
Sick of rubbin’ shoulders, now I’m runnin’ over every motherfucker who ain’t wanna get in my ride
I was watchin’, you was shoppin’
Ain’t never had the shit in my side
Now I’m poppin’, I’m poppin’, and your bitch keep hittin’ my line
It’s complicated, fuckin’ up with my main bitch
Givin’ it to the side bitch at the same damn time
Puttin’ my face in it, never wastin’ it
I’ma lay in it, hit it, hit it one more time
And then I’ma proceed and play with the pussy
You know I don’t keep my cape on a hoodie
But I give a Uzi, it’s a doozie, make a movie if you’re actin’, so (celebrate)

[Indie rock music]

See her far away, she won’t notice me
She’s not long back here, she’s sipping card with me
When the light shine bright, she’s like the other sea
I see her almond shape when she looks at me

She’s my love, my Eastern love
She’s my love, sweet Gypsy love

She has a thousand names she don’t answer to
If she wants to speak, then she slip to you
And you realize at ;east above her shoe
It keeps her far from harm while she’s journing through

She’s my love, my Eastern love
She’s my love, sweet Gypsy love

When she walks the street, she brings the desert heat
and when she falls asleep, she [??] on silent sheets
And the way she moves is on a different game
I want her next to me, but she’s out of reach

She’s my love, my Eastern love
She’s my love, sweet Gypsy love

[Instrumental break]

She’s my love, my Eastern love
She’s my love, sweet Gypsy love

I’ll get up in the morning,
I’ll do my hair and I’ll put my make-up on
Four girls trying to move on,
trying to walk away from all that’s done

Monday was a battle like no other day
He turned and walked away
and now I’m the greatest cliche

I’m going freak on a weekend
I’m gonna dance like a mother
You’ll hear my party voice
I’m gonna be a freak for a weekend
and then I’ll move like no other
You’ll hear my party voice
Wrong turn was a twist to [??]
If I’ll stop I might [??]
I’m going freak on a weekend
I’m gonna dance like a mother
You’ll hear my party voice

[Electro-pop music]

Stare through the break in the trees
and we step down int he frequency
Catch your breath and transgress
we’ll make more here with less.

Press me into in the cracks in the grass
Hear hum in the trees
We came down through the valley
To catch up with the sea

[Instrumental/ vocal break]

Holding on to when you catch your breath.
Holding on to when you catch your breath.

Let’s roll the tie
Let’s love be there and strive
Feel ourselves increasingly wide
Carry the meaning inside
Catch your breath and transgress
we’ll make more here with less.

Hold my tongue to a song
Let go of what was once dear as wrong

[Instrumental/ vocal break]

Holding on to when you catch your breath.
Holding on to when you catch your breath.