YG
YG - Million songtekst
Je score:
[Hook:] Said I'm ridin' in that Porsche, mind on a million My girlfriend trippin', so fuck how she feelin' 'Cause she don't wear no ring, so she don't mean shit I got more money than her, so she don't mean shit Said I'm ridin' in that Porsche, mind on a million My girlfriend trippin', so fuck how she feelin' 'Cause she don't wear no ring, so she don't mean shit I got more money than her, so she don't mean shit [Verse 1:] Said I'm ridin' in that Porsche, mind on a million My girlfriend trippin', so fuck how she feelin' She think I'm worth a million so her panties get to peelin' I stop and get some condoms, so I won't have no children Legs up in the back seat, booty in the back seat The way a nigga ballin' you would think I was an athlete Mustard in that Benzo, I'm up in that Porsche, though Youse a bad bitch, why you actin' like a whore, though? Lean by the quart load - 16 OZs Mind on a million, bitch, fuck you call me? All my homies bangers, pistols ain't no strangers Pistols ain't no strangers, and pistols can't taint us Ratchets in the lobby, that's my type of party We buy or sell gangsters, my clique don't need nobody Rich niggas eat out, pussy niggas Mia Fuck it then I beast now, like peace out [Hook] [Verse 2:] I'm riding in that Porsche, mind on some money Niggas act funny, start makin' money Pussy make that label, all my niggas able Pull lil' bro and some killers on the payroll All my niggas a-holes, act like we don't give a fuck I bet that shorty hit 'em up... I had to switch it up, now I live it up I live it Hollywood, we at my house thick as fuck Pussy don't do shit for me, it's just a nut No homo, I can do that with my hand, bitch, what? Bitch I think I'm Tupac, bitch I think I'm Tupac Niggas talk that shit 'til they get their ass popped Mamas wanna fuck me, their daughters wanna fuck me Thee bitches think I'm ratchet and the niggas say I'm lucky More racks on, couple racks gone Double racks gone, that's 20 racks gone [Hook] [Bridge:] I be ridin' My niggas we be ridin' Our pitchers do the fighting So you don't wanna rise, no Our money gets on Ciroc and Patron Havin' bad bitches come up out they thongs One rack gone, double racks gone Couple racks gone, that's 20 racks gone [Hook]