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flame on - aitch & cordae lyrics

[verse 1: aitch]
yeah, hit the booth, i turn flame on (yeah)
hundred on me, no chain on (woo)
shawty likes what i rap ’bout, i still sing to her like trey songz (ah, ah)
got the track, she want aitch on
f*ck these rappers, it’s game on
at this point, they all know what’s good, i ain’t gotta say where i came from (let’s go)
ain’t nothin’ to pull up and flex
f*ck it, i’m stuck at your necks
man get the p*ssy and start buyin’ drip for the gyal
but won’t get their mum an address (yeah)
brothers are bummy, i know that they been watchin’ the kid
now, they wanna come play with the best
run up this money, when i get stopped from thе pigs, only time that i’m takin’ a rest

[verse 2: cordae]
yeah, uh
aftеr i f*ck on this top model b*tch for a hour, the only time i’m takin’ a rest
how many millions a n*gga gon’ make in a year is the only time makin’ a guess
i don’t give a sh*t if these motherf*ckers hate on a n*gga, you know that they hate on the best
got my advance and i went straight to goldman sachs, and they told me they can invest
shout out to my dentist, got brothers that’s doin’ life sentence, society call ’em a menace
so, i flew out to manny, a nine*hour flight off a xanny
and aitch brought me straight to the trenches
i spoil my daughter before she can even start callin’
her diaper bag draped in givenchy
know music my callin’
my whole life i’m gon’ be ballin’
this sh*t is not on me, it’s in me
[chorus: cordae & aitch]
we get them racks fresh off a sack
no secret service, we dressed in all*black
high*level sh*t where i might get a tat’
and they free little sim, bet, you know he up next
fresh off a jet, hold up the set
’cause b*tch, you don’t know me, so, show me respect
more time, he see me, i’m blowin’ a check
if you wearin’ a vest, i’ma go for the head (yeah)

[verse 3: aitch]
crazy girl, she my favourite girl, that’s my baby girl
it’s aitch your girl
mr. take your girl, d*ck might make your world
backshots on backshots, then turn around and come face me, girl
backshots on backshots, then, then bust a nut and i’m out (woo)
take her phone ‘fore i take her home
how can she f*ck me for clout?
maybach or your bae’s back? either way, i’m makin’ them bounce
babygyal with that k cat, you know i’m tryna gain me some pounds
got the p*ssy on playback, i just like the way that it sounds
just got a coupe and a jeep, i’m tired of usin’ my feet
get in the back, bill a spliff and i’m lightin’ it up
same thing i do on a beat
p*ssy, don’t push me, it’s gonna get bumpy
i been on the henny, i’m drinkin’ it neat
feelin’ all comfy, i been gettin’ the money
i’m thinkin’ ’bout dough, you been thinkin’ ’bout me
stack up this paper, i make it and save it for later, i’m takin’ it straight to the bank
it could be canada, paris, la, or dubai, all the ladies go straight for the mank
know what i’m doin’, i ain’t tryna take no advice, i need millis to take an advance
b*tch, i’m a rapper, i’m makin’ a slapper
i’m not on the internet makin’ a dance
[verse 4: cordae]
yeah, ayy, go for the head, we aimin’ to k!ll
you worship these rappers who ain’t even real
i got some moves to make
you think i was lizzo the way that i pursue the cake
and you got a rude awakenin’
if you was hatin’, my n*ggas is cool but patient
the tool’s adjacent
the chopper, it hit his whole body and have his ass uzi shakin’
the streets was dry
but, f*ck it, we wet the whole block up, this draco a lubrication
the crib is new and gated
the cars is foreign, the lifestyle is too outrageous
drum case and that sack like, this sh*t a new formation
my n*gga got off of probation
f*ck the officers apart of the cases
f*ck twelve but i copped a mercedes
just landed in manchester
middle finger to the opps, not a hand gesture
so many whips, that sh*t upset my ancestors
but, we ball like van hecke
in the tenth grade, i thought that we made it when mama had moved us to lancaster
but, what i get off a show might be reparations, lil’ n*gga, and extra

[chorus: cordae & aitch]
we get them racks fresh off a sack
no secret service, we dressed in all*black
high*level sh*t where i might get a tat’
and they free little sim, bet, you know he up next
fresh off a jet, hold up the set
’cause b*tch, you don’t know me, so, show me respect
more time, he see me, i’m blowin’ a check
if you wearin’ a vest, i’ma go for the head

- aitch cordae lyrics

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