Schoolboy Q
Schoolboy Q - Hell Of A Night lyrics
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Get up out your seat You can have my drink Let me see you dance Get up off your feet You can be my freak Let me see you jam When the sun falls Then the moon lights Might be a hell of a night Go, go, go, go... Shit's real and I just begun So many ladies wanna share my tongue Uh, man this life of mine Me in the lead being pressed for time So the bottle gon' pop Then my record gon' spin Then them hoes gon' jock Ain't no telling how my night might end Night life in the bright lights Uh, swagging hard in my Concords You at the bottom, we the Top Dawgs We get high as them elevators Take a sip with me Now move your hips with me Now make it dip for me Now will you ride for me? Will you die for me? WIll you jump off a cliff and hit the sky with me? Uh, ménage á troìs, four titties, no bras and no flaws You, me, and her ball with no drawers Get high with a God I am no star Feeling good, all this money on my bank card 10 grand in my pocket, nigga, all ours Porsche Panamera, uh, yeah, four doors Pedal to the floor, ain't that what it's made for? I ain't minding if the world stops Said I ain't minding if the world stops We been living up in Hell's shop We been living up in Hell's shop So I'ma live it to the top notch So I'ma take it to the top notch I ain't running if the world stops Said I ain't minding if the world stops We been living up in Hell's shop We been living up in Hell's shop So I'ma live it to the top notch Fuck with me Uh, got the whole world tryna figure out Q You can never find a nigga do what I do TDE, I'm the nigga from the crew Hit it one time, now she wanting round two Ghetto chick, but I love them bamboos No lean, but I chopped and screwed She want a groovy type, bucket hat dude Champagne pop, I'm about that life Molly gon' pop, I'm about that life Backwood toke, I'm about that life Living good, might not remember this night World might end, so I'm living my life Fuck hanging out, I ain't tryna fly kites Tryna go to Paris? Nigga hit me on the Skype Tryna do a show? Nigga twenty for the hype Uh, don't touch me, bitch, I'm famous Tryna party and bang my fingers Living large, I'm an entertainer So cold but I come with flamers First sex, she up in my closet Whips drawers while I top deposits Girl let me see you stop and pause it Fuck around, might pay your mortage