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phone numbers - trae lyrics

i cop me one, cop me one for my old girl
you think she my newest b-tch, she my old
girl
khalifa, a younger n-gg- who handle his
hoes get in my car, ask what the channel is
boss sh-t, look that up n-gg-, i handle biz
on fire, like a candle is
n-gg-s be dressing off the manikin
hmmm, and i get fresh like where them
camera’s is
better yet sandwiches, bad b-tch spanish
friends
coulda been the president, rather be the
man instead

now when i get paid, my checks be lookin’
like phone numbers
now when i get paid, my checks be lookin’
like phone numbers
(you can talk sh-t b-tch, i’m worth a
million)
i’m talkin’ millions, n-gg- i’m talkin’
millions
(you can talk sh-t b-tch, i’m worth a
million)
i’m talkin’ millions, n-gg- i’m talkin’
millions
time is money so i went and bought a
rolex (bought a rolex)
time is money so i went and bought a
rolex (bought a rolex)
i’m talkin’ millions, n-gg- i’m talkin’
millions
(you can talk sh-t b-tch, i’m worth a
million)
i’m talkin’ millions, n-gg- i’m talkin’
millions
(you can talk sh-t b-tch, i’m worth a million,
whaaaaaat)
trae tha truth]
i’m in the hood [?] on this something corner
surfing
float, no water, my trunk is waving, i’m
polar surfing
blowing faces, i’m sh-ttin’ on them diamond
infested
time is money, peep the wrist b-tch, my
time is invested
i’m still the king and i’m thugged out
any block any club i flood it out
i ain’t the one for compet-tion i’m a blow it
out
i’m going hard i don’t ever plan on going
out
i’m getting money, probably something you
don’t know about
i stunt hard, you would swear that i was
showin’ out
don’t tell me get ’em, i got em and i’m a
throw ’em out
and back door on these hoes that i was
warning out
while i’m in this machine, convert the top
tell them that the sky is the limit
with a four of freaks, she got her face in
my lap so deep you would think
that she was hiding in it
shrimp, steak, liquor and pasta
real sh-t boi, these n-gg-s imposters
they deserve an oscar, kevin costner
oh my god sir, what?
i got this and that and everything i want
like i got a hostage, yeh
countin’ 7 digits, no wonder why the money
calling
got ya b-tch panties niagra fallin’
dollars c-m like i f-ck in the bank
i told them i could, they tell me i can’t
they want me to trip when i’m d-cking the
paint
i’m poppin’ champagne and puffin’ on dank
shining hard, boy, these n-gg-s gotta see
me
my d-ck hard, your b-tch is easy
(boi, boi, boi)

- trae lyrics

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