Big Sean
Big Sean - Phone Numbers lyrics
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[Verse 1 - Wiz Khalifa]I cop me one, cop me one for my old girl You think she my newest bitch, she my old girl Khalifa, a younger nigga who handle his Hoes get in my car, ask what the channel is Boss shit, look that up my nigga, I handle biz On fire, like a candle is Niggas be dressing off the mannequin Hmm, and I get fresh like where them camera's is? Better yet sandwiches, bad bitch Spanish friends Could of been the President, rather be the man instead [Chorus - Wiz Khalifa]Now when I get paid, My checks be looking like phone numbers Now when I get paid, my checks be looking like phone numbers (You can talk shit bitch, I'm worth a million) I'm talking millions, nigga I'm talking millions (You can talk shit bitch, I'm worth a million) I'm talking millions, nigga I'm talking 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 talking millions, nigga I'm talking millions (You can talk shit bitch, I'm worth a million) I'm talking millions, nigga I'm talking millions (You can talk shit bitch, I'm worth a million, what?) [Verse 2 - Trae Tha Truth]I'm in the hood off this Something that's corner surfing Float, no water, my trunk is waving, I'm polar surfing Blowing faces, I'm shitting on them diamond infested Time is money, peep the wrist bitch, 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 competition, I'ma 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 showing out Don't tell me get them, I got them and I'ma throw them 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 she was hiding in it [Chorus] [Verse 3 - Big Sean]Shrimp, steak, liquor, and pasta Real shit boy, these niggas imposters They deserve a Oscar, Kevin Costner Oh my God sir, what? I got this and that and everything I want like I got a hostage, yeah Counting seven digits, no wonder why the money calling Got your bitch panties Niagara falling Dollars come like I fuck in the bank I told them I could, they tell me I can't They want me to trip when I'm ducking the paint I'm popping champagne, and puffing on dank Shining hard, boy, these niggas got to see me My dick hard, your bitch is easy [Chorus]