a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

tell me why - xavy rusan lyrics

[intro]
ay, ay
ay, ay

[verse 1]
buck all of that f*ck, she tryna cop a grotto
spend the night at oakland, fly out to chicago
know that’s how we livin’, why i got to lie, though?
i’m two*steppin’ in the function, spillin’ my moscatto
and if i said it, then i’ve been it, ho, we been the sh*t
i’m tired of sayin’ free my n*ggas, they be into sh*t
i keep a secret like a mo’f*ckin’ syndicate
just drop it in the mail, no “return to sender” sh*t
if you ain’t tryna get no money, what’s the benefits?
ain’t no association with you on that winner sh*t
that asian creo on my plate, you know my dinner hit
don’t need no features from you n*ggas, ho, i’ve been a hit
and to the tomb from the womb, ho, i came petty
the only time i hang my head is when my chain heavy
you gotta claim your sh*t and get it, don’t n0body owe you nothin’
and we know that sh*t ain’t true, so there ain’t no future in your frontin’
[chorus]
know they bad at a player, couldn’t tell you why, though
i’ve been thumbin’ paper, blowin’ on gelato
and if i f*ck with you, baby, you done hit the lotto
by any means necessary, that’s my only motto
i know they mad at a player, couldn’t tell you why, though
i’ve been thumbin’ paper, blowin’ on gelato
and if i f*ck with you, baby, you done hit the lotto
by any means necessary, that’s my only motto
i know they*

[verse 2]
if we stick together, we could own the county
letto keep on lookin’, we gon’ go to maui
why they pump fakin’? we just keep scorin’
i’m a homegrown n*gga, hit the streets foreign
and i’m god body, baby, my cup runneth over
told lil’ shawty text me ‘fore you comin’ over
curbside pickup, they got supper ready
8 am tomorrow, i be up already
i’ve been doin’ numbers, throw some numbers at me
in that cherry red seat, color khaki
pop it for a player, i’m a hall*of*famer
let that ho be happy, why you tryna tame her?
juice man, baby, i got fresh squeezed
floatin’ on this b*tch, i came with jet skis
i ain’t payin’ for it, i finesse knees
somewhere talkin’ ’bout where to get the check, please
[chorus]
know they bad at a player, couldn’t tell you why, though
i’ve been thumbin’ paper, blowin’ on gelato
and if i f*ck with you, baby, you done hit the lotto
by any means necessary, that’s my only motto
i know they mad at a player, couldn’t tell you why, though
i’ve been thumbin’ paper, blowin’ on gelato
and if i f*ck with you, baby, you done hit the lotto
by any means necessary, that’s my only motto
i know they*

- xavy rusan lyrics

Random Song Lyrics :

Popular