coach k should’ve signed me - rxknephew lyrics
coach k should’ve signed me lyrics
[intro]
uh, yeah
yeah
uh
yeah
(el money chopped this up like chopped cheese)
uh, yeah
[verse]
girl, i know what you going through
girl, let me talk to you
go ‘head, jump yo ass in this 4*o, i can’t walk with you
i tell you i love you, i mean it, i’m getting caught with you
she like “can i be rxk?” i’m like “h*ll nah!”
too many people lied to me, girl, i got trust issues
slide through like natenumbereight with two b.b.’s on
unc’ and auntie, you see me on
been through a lot, girl, leave me alone
methhead look like kaleidoscope
sold a whole bunch and a lot of dope
unc’ likе, “how the h*ll you got a carti?”
drop more songs than playboi carti
gothic b*tch wanna bump carti
hugh hеfner playboy with a carti
want a x7, not a rari
feel like shotti when he signed tekashi
they gon’ give him more time than mel matrix
carti was lonely, i got a bracelet
slap the sh*t outta watch bustas
see this watch? yeah, i paid thousands for this
tribulations and trials for this
whole lotta hours for this
b*tch talm ’bout she want a h*llcat
girl, they only got one body style
we can four*door, we can two*door
we can drop the top in that audi, girl
should’ve seen when i bought it
that’s a whole lotta 50s
that’s a whole lotta 20s
drac’ make his ass bobby ricky
they thought i had one hit like hurricane chris
that boy got a hurricane wrist
the opps ain’t saying sh*t
not the one to play with, b*tch
that 4*o look so pretty
[?]
mustache on that b*tch like [?]
yeah, baby, i’m the one
your brother, what he want?
tell his ass get his gun
call on my phone, i should hang up on you
i cannot make sh*t up for you
i’mma f*ck that b*tch off a eighth za
b*tch, you ain’t even bad for me to mention
i’m pimp c before the pimping
sn*tch and grab, get missing
cut a n*gga off like chief did sd
move to la like chief keef
b*tch house bigger than chief keef’s
i can go back in my hood, i ain’t chief keef
pull up in a four*wheeler like chief keef
gucci belt, no shirt, like chief keef
love no thottie like chief keef
all the opps wish they could be me
told that b*tch jump in the air and stay there
leave the house with that s*xy [?] it could stay there
for real
punch a n*gga out like [?]
look like pop smoke when he shook the room
punch a n*gga clean out his jewels
punch a n*gga out in melrose
stomp his head in with some sh*lltoes
glock on my hip like it’s velcro
trap till the bald head like doodie lo
b*tch 17 thinking i’m doodie lo
tryna hit me with a case like doodie lo
only thing underage is my coke prices
sign a n*gga 35 like doodie lo
n*gga d*mn near 40 call me big bro
put a chain on his neck like doodie lo
hunned rxk chains, that’s a go
i’mma do my hood like king von did
get a lil rxk chain for the kids
no weaving my hair like lil durk did
no autotune like lil durk did
52 bars, not like lil durk did
won’t sign to coke boyz like lil durk did
really sold coke, not like lil durk did
walked in, b*tch thought lil durk was there
chain hit harder than otf chains
sh*t look like i looted icebox
put the glock on the tripod
i been robbing sh*t since nano ipods
cut a n*gga off like sd
he can’t even get merch or tee
leave his ass in the hood like sd
same lil ass dreads like sd
these n*ggas be moving like sd
tryna rap no songs like sd
boy, your table’s trasher than sd’s
can’t go to yo hood like chief keef
i’m chief keef when he met the migos
chain off yo neck like free throw!
really sold dope, i’m not quavo
don’t need a co*sign from the hood like quavo
glock make you dance like bobby shmurda
make you dutty whine, do the crybaby
glock make a grown man whine his hips
make him bust a move like bobby shmurda did
dance with the ar like bobby shmurda
i’m really a hot n*gga, not bobby shmurda
quavo look dumb hanging with bobby shmurda
he got deodorant stick all on his hair
quavo running ’round with leather pants
he tried to slapbox dj akademiks
i know coach k told him to chill, he ain’t in it
they can play ’bout the money ’cause they ain’t getting it
i’m not ’bout talk to youtube about it
i’m not ’bout talk to instagram about it
i blow the whole distrokid headquarters up
blow the whole youtube headquarters up
i know meek mill wasn’t a street n*gga
he talm ’bout the police still on
screaming out he a boss but never was
he hoping that hov’ come pick him up
if he front, rick ross gon’ get him locked up
glock dumber than ar*ab
i’mma talk hotter than ar*ab
tell ’em ’bout all my guns in the stash
these n*ggas move like a ar*ab interview
talk too much, what the h*ll you talking ’bout?
i’mma hit my ‘nac and do my boof
i don’t give a d*mn if your story was true
they like, “neph, when the h*ll the merch coming?”
b*tch, i gotta print my own shirts up
and i gotta cook my own crack up
b*tch, i gotta stamp my own bags up
b*tch talm ’bout she lonely, b*tch, me too
free throw!
ben baller not ’bout to ball on you
ben baller not ’bout to call on you
[?] ben baller dog on you
you know i ain’t taking my shoes off
b*tch, this sh*t cost yo tax money
see that car outside? that crack money
see the chain on my neck? that rap money
this za i’m smoking, opps wish they had
i wish they t**th fall off they mouth
b*tch, i feel like [?]
when fetty wap and monty first came out
when he sat in that bentley and talked his sh*t
that’s how i knew that he own that sh*t
this chain, b*tch, i got ownership
my watch and car, ownership
b*tch
i don’t got no deal like playboi carti
i don’t do google ads like playboi carti
don’t need g*y sh*t to make me popping
my g*y fans more gangsta than him
say what the f*ck i want out my lip
watch on my wrist like ben 10
you walking on the tight rope, that’s [?]
opps got creases in every f*cking shoes
hat, shirt, socks, new
how you got that? [?]
beat that pack till black and blue
do it how i do it when i do it
what you doing? hope you know you look stupid
i ran off on my last jeweler
fast as i can, nyooom
yeah
jump in the bed with my timbs
she like, “take yo shoes off”
b*tch, i’m tryna sleep
she like, “neph, you rude as h*ll”
tell me something new
b*tch, i got more friends than e*40 do
that supreme right there, b*tch, i did too
baby, my heart ’bout to bust like [?]
baby, my heart ’bout to explode
i don’t give a godd*mn about yo toes
what are you doing? go get some money
[?], sh*t’ll get ugly
casanova, this sh*t will get ugly
this sh*t will get uglier than blac youngsta
they like, “neph, why the h*ll you name n*ggas?”
b*tch, ’cause i hate the industry
b*tch, ’cause they ain’t give me a grammy
b*tch, the whole world know i got the best song
i ain’t dropping american tterroristt till the new year’s over
i ain’t stopping drinking till b*tch never over
they like, “when the h*ll american tterroristt 2 coming?”
b*tch, i will rewrite the bible and tell you something
b*tch, i’m tryna f*ck and make some money off of that
b*tch, i hope my f*cking fans buy that sh*t like crack
b*tch, i’mma drop a f*cking t*shirt and headband with that
b*tch, i’mma drop a f*cking fork and pot with that
b*tch, i’mma drop some merch for the trap
b*tch, i’mma drop a couch
i’mma drop a f*cking couch
i’mma drop a couch for the trap
and some curtains
f*ck you talking ’bout?
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