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ransom - luh tyler lyrics

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[intro: luh tyler & lil uzi vert]
yeah, n*gga (sh*t), uh
yeah, n*gga, yeah, ayy (you ain’t got the answers, sway)
yeah, ayy, yeah, ayy, yeah, ayy, yeah, ayy (woah)

[verse 1: luh tyler & lil uzi vert]
your lil’ b*tch a freak, yeah
she gon’ f*ck for free, yeah
know what’s up with me, yeah
i get to that cheese, yeah
i get to that green, yeah
like my b*tches mean, yeah (beep)
rock out with my team, that bankroll can’t fit in my jeans, yeah (woah)
this sh*t what i dreamed, i’m ballin’, i feel like kareem, yeah
i snap, i do my thing, this make you hit the shoulder lean, yeah (ayy)
runnin’ straight to the blues, took my chain, go straight to the news (yeah, what?)
n*gga headed straight to the moon, i pull up in that wraith, that b*tch go, “vroom” (that’s for sure)
sweepin’ sh*t up like a broom, just wait, young n*gga, we gon’ see the top soon (talk to ’em)
young n*gga finna go and shake the room, young n*gga finna blow, finna watch this b*tch boom (what else?)
young n*gga headed straight to the top and your lil’ b*tch a thot, got the ho givin’ top (uh, uh, facts)
know a n*gga chasin’ straight after guap, when i run that sh*t up, i’ma go drop the rock (run it up)
n*gga pull up in a coupe real fast and i’m doin’ the dash, might go drop the top (skrrt, n*gga)
n*gga breakin’ that code, they be cuffin’ these hoes, n*ggas out here actin’ like cops (what the f*ck?)
i’m tryna be the richest
we runnin’ up them digits (digits)
run a n*gga out his britches
phew, that’s them switches (grrah)
[verse 2: lil uzi vert]
speakin’ on them riches
millie my wrist, b*tch, it’s a nixon (huh?)
switch on the back of the glock and it’s glitchin’
treat it like madden, this chopper a hit stick
all of my old b*tches, new b*tch, they missed this (huh?)
popped off a top like that sh*t was a mistic (yeah)
lil uzi vert, yeah, he different, the sixth sense
corona an opp, make that boy keep his distance
always on shade room, got tea like a lipton
they thought i was eazy*e, no, b*tch, i’m pimpin’ (woah)
don’t got leg problems, lil’ b*tch, but i’m limpin’
this is my bottom b*tch, no, i ain’t simpin’ (what else?)
ever pop pill and drink lean ’til you dizzy? (yes)
lemonade wock’ overflow in the simply (huh?)
i’m all the way fresh, i make sure they not dingy
i want my half*cent, she not worth a penny
f*ck is a hook if a n*gga keep goin’?
if you ask me, every b*tch there be goin’ (yes)
she wanna f*ck me and yes, i do know it
step in the sun with this ice, it start snowin’
i’m from 1600, that is the low end
popped a lil’ pill, it hit like melatonin
gun on my waist and i ain’t gon’ show ’em
thirty my clip and it don’t even stop goin’
smokin’ my opp, it turn me to the omen
if you don’t know who she f*ckin’, that b*tch f*ckin’ old men
lil uzi vert, yeah, i swear i keep goin’
wait, you don’t want me just to keep goin’?
i’m in your house and your b*tch gettin’ nasty
i’m in your house like my name kyle massey
b*tch, i be saucin’ and swaggin’, i’m jazzy
bullets’ll shave off your head like you cassie
b*tch, i’m a goat, my margiellas, they tabby
college b*tch give me head out tallahassee
i got a plug that live cincinnati
he ain’t even from there, that boy from atlanta
smokin’ on vapes like i can’t even get cancer
country lil’ b*tch, yeah, that ho, she a ‘bama
don’t wanna f*ck on that b*tch, gettin’ cancer
had your main b*tch, but to me, she a random (yeah)
might to dubai to do donuts in sandals
got shooters in mexico, he live in cancún
if i can’t find an opp, best believe that his man doomed
i let the junkie test work as a sample (woah, woah)
[outro: lil uzi vert]
huh?
yeah, yeah, yeah, lil’ n*gga
phew, phew, phew

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