Jeff Gordon | lyricsonline.eu

Big Baby Scumbag – Dale Earnhardt Lyrics (feat. Lil Aaron)

[Intro]
(Damn, that’s Surreal right there?)

[Chorus]
Money in my face (What?), hoes in my face (What?)
Pocket full of money, I ain’t runnin’ out of space (What?)
Mama said, “Baby you done came a long way” (Woo)
Still eatin’ ramen noodles, bitch I like the taste
Dale Earnhardt, nigga, do you wanna race? (What?)
Mirror mirror on the wall, bitch, I look great (Woo)
Daytona 500, high speed chase (What?)
Put you in your place (Yeah), bitch get out the way (Move)

[Verse 1]
Ridin’ in a fast car, yeah, bitch, I might be
Ridin’ in a NASCAR, yeah, bitch, I might be
Sippin’ on Bud Lite like that shit was iced tea (Woo)
Main bitch wet, you would think she was a Pisce (Woo, woo)
Dale Earnhardt (What?), push a go-kart (What?)
Dirty ass Vans like we at a trailer park (What?)
Shinin’ in the dark, I look like a star
Bitch, I feel like Gucci Mane, iced out, brr (Brr)
Drip with the swag, got sauce on my white tee (Woo)
Dolce and Gabbanas on my feet (Woo), these ain’t no Nikes (Woo)
I’m an astronaut like BBC Icecream (Yeah)
Big Baby Earnhardt (Yeah), I’m so icy (Yeah, bitch)

[Verse 2]
I got swagger, I got bags up
Buyin’ bottles at the bar, ran the tab up
I’ma stack up (Yeah), ’til I’m racked up (Yeah)
Jeff Gordon on my body, I go faster (Brr)
Mr. Lahey, wanna race me
Got a bitch named Lexus and Mercedes
Yeah, they chase me, think they wanna date me (Yeah)
Number one bitch, know you can’t replace me (Yeah)
I’m a master, of disaster
I’ma bless a bitch just like a pastor (Pastor)
Flexin’ like Stone Cold, but my name ain’t Steve (But my name ain’t Steve)
Nigga, I’m the G-O-A, motherf**kin’ T, hold on (Mothaf**kin’ T)

[Chorus]
Money in my face (What?), hoes in my face (What?)
Pocket full of money, I ain’t runnin’ out of space (What?)
Mama said, “Baby you done came a long way” (Woo)
Still eatin’ ramen noodles, bitch, I like the taste
Dale Earnhardt, nigga, do you wanna race? (What?)
Mirror mirror on the wall, bitch I look great (Woo)
Daytona 500, high speed chase (What?)
Put you in your place (Yeah), bitch get out the way (Move)

[Outro]
(Damn, that’s Surreal right there?)

T-Wayne – Fuck Russ Lyrics

[Intro]
[?] on that beat
Yeah, foreign, foreign, foreign

[Verse 1]
I told em, fuck Russ
You ain’t shit
You a bitch
Diamond wrist, peep the drip
Water whip, Plain Jane, new Mulsanne
Shorty wanna give me brain, cuz the fame (yea, yea)
I’m coming live and direct
I got you niggas upset
Hoping out the private jet, got your bitch wet
Snake on my belt, lookin like a new pet
Cut my ex off, need a new thang
Copped a new chain and a pinky ring
Southwest airline, that’s a plain jane
I just dropped a bag and the Blue Flame

[Chorus]
I want the new Ferrari
I want the Plain Jane
I want the presidential Rollie
She want the whole gang (gang, gang)
She a little freak she’ll bust it
Diamonds real cold like Russia
Told lil bitch don’t touch it
Young, rich, came up from nothing
I want the new Ferrari
I want the Plain Jane
I want the presidential Rollie
She want the whole gang (gang, gang)
She a little freak she’ll bust it
Diamonds real cold like Russia
Told lil bitch don’t touch it
Young, rich, came up from nothing

[Verse 2]
I’m hoppin off of a jet
I’m on a run for a check
I gotta flex
I put your bitch in a vette
Runnin up plays like I’m Brett
I got her wet
I got my gun like a sketch
Keep that bitch I ain’t impressed
Don’t give a damn bout my ex
Fuck on her friend and I jet
I want Patek Phillipe
I got my choppa on me
I fuck around in the suite
I be feelin like skreets, bitch I be geeked
Light up the sweet in a suite
I be ridin’ a foreign
You know the engine be roarin’
I’m outta space like the orbit
The whip gotta horsey
You would think it was Ralph Lauren
I’m on the track like Jeff Gordon, yea

A-TRAK – Believe lyrics

Ahhh
Ahhh
Lil Boat and Quavo

[Verse 1: Quavo & Lil Yachty]
Look at the rocks
Ice on my watch (yah!)
When I’m on the block (block)
I run from the cops (cops)
Damn, did I forget to mention
All these racks on me, playin’ tennis
Brought my name in the World Guiness
Take them back to the beginnin’
Take them back to the beginnin’
Back before Lil Boat was winnin’
Back before I had a million
Back before I was car stealin’
These niggas act like they feel me
If I got caught slippin’ on my soap
I’m sure these niggas’d try to kill me
She said, “How rich are you?” Yo, I’m filthy
I perfect all my craft
Shoot a nigga like Shaft
I sell a million-dollar slab (M&M)
Then put your bitch in a cab (bitch)
Do a show out in Rio
I just do it for the Migos
First time I met a migo
I walked away with a kilo (kilo)
Got a brick, Shaq free throw
Hit the pot with the people’s elbow
Never go out like Nino (ayy)
I’m in the water like Nemo (ayy)
Who that is with the mink on? (ayy)
Look at my paper, Kinko’s (ayy)
Shoot at the block then reload
Shoot at the block then reload
Ball so hard, free throw
Bitch curl like a Frito (yeah)
Twenty bands, that’s for every show (yeah)
Got an Asian bitch, she loves egg rolls
Got a Black bitch with an attitude
When I tell her no, she just neck-rolls
Got a big sack and it’s so big
Boy I swear to God I just can’t fold

[Chorus: Lil Yachty]
I believe in you
They told you you can’t show them folks, you do
Every bitch in the world posts us in their room
But I fuck with lil’ shorty ’cause she vacuum
Suck me in the living room
I believe in you
They told you you can’t show them folks, you do
Every bitch in the world posts us in their room
But I fuck with lil’ shorty ’cause she vacuum
Suck me in the living room

[Verse 2: Quavo & Lil Yachty]
She treat a nigga like a boss
I call my shooter, take him off
Hit the button on the nose
Young nigga taking off (yep)
Got a shotty sawed off (yep)
I’m ’bout to fuck her jaws off (yep)
Put your bitch on pause
They call me Quavo J Crawl
Middle finger to the law
Did what it takes to be boss
Did what it takes to be boss
Ayy
This for my niggas who don’t ever take a loss
This for my niggas locked up behind bars
This for my niggas who need an extra push
They hated me like Bush
But I’ma still rise, woah
And I put that on my guys
R.I.P. to all my soldiers in the sky

[Outro: Quavo]
Ayy, drop my top on my foreign
Ain’t no phones, no recording
Got my guap in the morning
In that coupe, Jeff Gordon

G Herbo – Kill Shit (feat. Lil Bibby) (Bonus Track) (Welcome To Fazoland Album)

[Intro: Lil Herb & Lil Bibby]
Time to let these niggas know what it is in the streets
Aye Bibby, let’s kill shit broski. Whatchu wanna do?
It’s whatever man, just go on ahead and rip that shit
Ima come around and clean that shit up
Lets get it

[Verse 1: Lil Herb]
Know a couple niggas that’s down to ride for a homicide
When it’s drama time
Run up on a nigga with the llamas flyin
Leave his loved ones all traumatized
One-fifty I’m really wit’ it
I’ll drop his ass and then forget it
I’m the man round my side of town
Might see a bitch and forget I hit it
Lil Bibby on the track with me
One mistake and he clap fifty
When I hit the scene hoes go insane
Cause they know a nigga got them racks wit’ me
No velcro but the strap wit’ me
Let a nigga wanna act silly
I’mma let it off and then leave him there
Ride off and don’t even care
Bitch I cash out ’till I pass out
Got a couple trues I don’t even wear
In the game bitch I do my thang
Hoes scream my name I ain’t even there
Lil Herb boy I does this
Leave your bitch wetter than a pool pit
And I make bands like I make friends
Bought some ray-bans on some cool shit
But now it’s back to some killa shit
Got some wild hoes that’ll drill a bitch
Yea it’s no limit, thirty years runnin’
Thirty years gunnin’ and we still the shit
I never run cause I stay to fight
I’ll cook a nigga like steak and rice
And it’s hella real in the battlefield
Gangbang gotta pay the price
Hit a nigga with the forty fifth
Bet it make his ass do forty flips
M-O-B I don’t love a ho
Imma be this way ’til I’m forty six
Matter of fact ’til a nigga die
Smoke kush blunts ’til a nigga cry
And I never feed off another man
Cause I understand how a nigga lie
Never snitch on a nigga dry
Yeah that’s how a nigga die
Got a yellow bitch in the passenger
She gon’ suck and fuck if I get her high
If I do the dash then my whip will fly
Foreign shit what a nigga ride
I ain’t never snoozin’ let a nigga try
Got the nine ruger on a nigga side

[Verse 2: Lil Bibby]
Lil Bibby, no limit yea I’m all about that sack bitch
My young niggas they clap shit
Let the mac spit, we whack shit
Weezy in that cut
With that nina that’s that black bitch
Rico wanna’ get ’em, I’m like cuz’ man I got this
Shootin’ shit, Hittin’ shit
Four five extended clip, y’all be on that snitchin’ shit
And Y’all know what snitches get, No limit shit
We wit’ the shits, I’m focused on gettin’ rich
M-O-B forget a bitch, right after I hit the bitch
Like point me to the kitchen bitch, I be water whippin’ shit
Whip it, Jeff Gordon whip it, hit it wit’ the fork
Straight drop no shorts
Shooters on and off the court, shoot a nigga off his porch
Turn a nigga to a corpse, yeah, I’m bout that
Rollin’ up that loud pack
Catch me lackin’? I doubt that, cause I never leave without that
And that’s real shit, got real hitters they kill shit
You fuck around hit the kill switch, these hollow tips you feel this
And I’m tryna get real rich
Cause my mama said I wouldn’t be shit
Nobody never gave me shit
Like "Bibby hop on this remix", that’s five hundred, no free shit
Cause I’m hot and I do this shit for my block
I got thirty off in that Glock, have my nina give you top
Bodies gon’ drop and we ain’t gon’ stop
R-I-P Roc
Catch a few ops, send a few shots, might hit a few blocks
Fuck a few thots, I need two mill might seem like a lot
But I spit straight drop so its really not
My team gon’ eat, R-I-P to police
Fake niggas don’t speak
Cop killers in the heat, catch me in the streets
Shout out to broski