M.I.A. – Reload Lyrics

Ok Reload
?????
Ok Reload
Like Scarface, Al Pacino

[Verse 1]
You got some nerve talking shit about me
When you ain’t that phat tho (??)
Yeah yeah be the time
Now it’s time I’m coming off my parole
??? the time with Bently, the gold, the yoga, Prada, Louis V ???
?????
?????
????? I spit on the ground
You don’t know? Had to be ?????
????? back home

[Hook]
Ok Reload
Coming at you like Al Pacino
Is you down
Gonna get you from all around
Ok Reload
Coming at you like Al Pacino
Is you down
Gonna get you from all around

[Verse 2]
We’re much to young
???? fell far too deep
Ok cocaine now
Ganja, rizzla, sensimilia
????
???? playa
Let me see what you got on
Yeah yeah tracksuit still with your hoodie on
‘Member that girl that you called Lose (???)
Yeah last week I saw her ?????
‘Cause I know I know shit
Nothing on me she got the goods

[Pre-Hook]
Is you down
?? around
It’s ok
I’ll be good
Is you down
From all around
Well that’s ok
Shit’s tired anyway

[Hook]
Ok Reload
Coming at you like Al Pacino
Is you down?
Gonna get you from all around

[Verse 3]
You got your head switched
You came into ????
Yeah yeah I’m a heartbreaker
What happened to you
Aren’t you ????
I want Public Enemy back
Chatty Flava and ???
Who gon’ come save us
Have to fight back that popstars’ bullshit

[Hook]
Ok Reload
Coming at you like Al Pacino
Is you down?
Gonna get you from all around
Well that’s ok
Shit’s tired anyway
Is you down?
Gonna get you from all around

[Continues]

Andy Milonakis – Fuck Your Instagram Lyrics

[Intro]
Fuck your gram
Fuck your Instagram

[Chorus]
I’m on the island going ham
I call your bitch and we got plans
Always mad you ain’t got fans
Fuck your gram
Fuck your gram
Fuck your Instagram

[Verse 1]
All these fake fucks always be fake flexing
Flicks [?] who you sexting
Pics of your bands but you know that you rent though
Talking bout foreigns but you know it’s a rental
All these hoes taking pics of cappuccino
Fake thugs tryna look like Al Pacino
All these thots playing [?]
Asking for a follow so their Insta glows

[Chorus]
I’m on the island going ham
I call your bitch and we got plans
Always mad you ain’t got fans
Fuck your gram
Fuck your gram
Fuck your Instagram

[Verse 2]
You ain’t never left the states boy
I’m at [?] sipping grapes boy
So many stamps on my passport
This is the life that you asked for
Enough mirror pics [?]
Fuck your lame house and your dumb clique
I bet when you posted you thought you were the shit
Did anyone tell you that you look like a dick?

[Chorus]
I’m on the island going ham
I call your bitch and we got plans
Always mad you ain’t got fans
Fuck your gram
Fuck your gram
Fuck your Instagram
Fuck your Instagram

[Outro]
Did anyone tell you that you look like a dick?
Did anyone tell you that you look like a dick?
Did anyone tell you that you look like a dick?
Did anyone tell you that you look like a dick-dick?
Did anyone tell you that you look like a dick?
Did anyone tell you that you look like a dick?

Lil Yachty – Freestyle on Funk Flex Lyrics

Nigga, free Reese, free Nino
The world is mine like I’m Al Pacino
Got more money than a lil’ casino
Got caught fuckin’ on a bitch and her boyfriend walked in wearin’ full Chinos
Hopped out the back door, ran a four flat
That was like way back
Nowadays I just sit and laugh
Chopstick long as one giraffe
And I’m comin’ through, clear the whole path
Walked in the damn spot, it was all… team of niggas, fuck the whole staff
Goddamn, nigga, too playa
Why you hate? ‘Cause I’m too rare
Young nigga, I’m a fresh prince, coulda bought a crib out in Bel Air
Fuckin’ on a bitch from Delaware
$30,000 on a new coat, call PETA up, gon’ and soak it in
Tag still hangin’ from it, had it for a year and I ain’t even broke it in
Diamond choker so tight, tried to lift it up, shit did not go over chin
In the studio with Migo gang, everything we make is propane
Call ten bitches from the Blue Flame
Fuck ’em all, we ain’t even know their name
Front row at the ball game
Who that is dunkin’? Shit, that’s what’s his name
I don’t even fuckin’ watch sports but my backyard like a golf course
Niggas hatin’, on my dick and shit, I got more guns than a task force
When I talk, my voice kinda high
Niggas hatin’ usually sound kinda hoarse
My ex-bitch is built like a horse, she was 27, I was 19
Shawty there was a real stallion
But I ain’t trust her, feel like shawty there was wildin’
Young nigga, bitch, I’m QC, you can see this shit through the gold medallion
After this I’m out to Staten Island, got a young bitch, she be really stallin’
My young nigga tote a dirty K, I call him Dirty Dan, he’ll flip your van
Kick your door hard as Jackie Chan
Take your chain right up off your nightstand, lil’ nigga

Wiz Khalifa – Long Way To Go Lyrics

[Intro]
Ah
That’s just how the fuck it is
Fucking punk
It’s fucking bosses over here man
Leave that shit to them little niggas, real talk
We out with it
Uh

[Verse 1]
Don’t leave the door open coz we smoking
Proceed with caution when you approaching
Jump in my ride, I’m getting ghost
Don’t ever go no where without my bro’s
Round the best, you get exposed
Them execs we ain’t sweating those
I’m in sweatpants looking for the remote
Rocking better clothes than the ones that was fly before
When it get down to paper, I’m trynna get the highest portion
Pull out the old school just so I can slide the Porsche in
I worked hard for mine, french bulldogs all in the yard
Won’t change course or fall off
Paid the cost to be the boss
When you the man you don’t play your hand
You deal the cards
Me I’m owning the building and smoking weed in every room in it
Pulling up high as fuck to your event
Shirt open, my chains swanging
Don’t rep the gang if you can’t hang

It’s simple as yet
Matter of fact the shit is kinda complex
So don’t try this at home
Fuck around and learn something young little nigga

It’s bigger than nino, we know
We last generation that’s worshipping Al Pacino
Seen it first hand in Casino
But nigga’s gotta go down that road to find out
I smoked a couple j’s i rolled a couple more fore’ I’m out
You ever been to where I’m from you probably know
What I’m bout
Stay ready for the occasion
Time equals money that’s the equation
You nigga’s look funny trynna ride the wave
I hope that you crash
And nobody dive in and save you
They call it the game, watch how they play you
My life is a movie, you wanna stay through
Still think I’m the realest nigga to this day
Them other nigga’s is hand made
Under pressure they break
I just do this for my gang’s sake
I don’t get time away
I’ma light this j

[Chorus]
We don’t stop hustling
No, never
We don’t stop grinding
Hell naw
We don’t stop going hard
Nope
Made a lot of paper but I got a long way to go
We don’t stop hustling
No, never
We don’t stop grinding
Hell naw
We don’t stop going hard
Nope
Made a lot of paper but I got a long way to go

[Outro]
This is a really big performance for me like
This is something that I kinda take seriously
I love performing, I love being in front of people
Like the festival crowds are always dope
So it’s just something that I not only look forward to
But I try and make sure I’m really prepared for
So I can go out there and just have the best show

French Montana – Whiskey Eyes (feat. Chinx)

[Intro: Chinx]
On the count of three I want everyone to say it
(Rock party)
Hold up, baba
On the count of three I want everyone to say it
"I’m a mothafuckin’ coke boy"
1, 2, 3
I’m a mothafuckin’ coke boy

[Chorus: Fe]
You lured me in with those whiskey eyes
You’ll tell me things, I know they’re all lies
I’ll fall, I’ll fall for you
And there’s nothin’ I can’t do

[Verse 1: French Montana]
Yo, Montana
Ayy, hit the game, put the wave in it
Go, go on tap your veins, put the needle in it
I-I snatch you by your head like an eagle did it
Shootout with the police like Sigel did it
Middle of the streets like The Beatles did it
Can’t be in it when you leave, or they leave you in it
Ev-Everything that’s gold ain’t what it glitter
I seen killers fold for certain killas
Have your money right when the law costs
I seen my favorite rappers turn to cornballs
The best thing I did was let that pain hurt my feelings
(Turn the pain into music)
Turn the music into millions, haaan
Got jerked my first deal, and I told ’em "Suck a dick"
Once I made my first mil’, I told them "Fuck a brick"
Brick, brick by brick, ’til it’s empire
L-l-lick by lick, gone a sleepwire
Had to learn taxes, help you relax
If you don’t own your masters, your classes turn to ashes
So hit the round table, count it all up
Or get the brown bag, count it all up
Call the bad bitches, round ’em all up
Count it first, we can count it all up
Millionaire bitches, hit the mall up
(International superstar, you know)

[Chorus: Fe]
You lured me in with those whiskey eyes
You’ll tell me things, I know they’re all lies
I’ll fall, I’ll fall for you
And there’s nothin’ I can’t do

[Verse 2: French Montana]
They said kill ’em with success, toe tag ya up
N-n-name a Hollywood bitch I ain’t rag up
P-p-promise, the pressure turn to diamonds
The karma turn to commas
If the block told you eye to eye
Seeing dreams in a bottle
The younger son of Pablo
Trips out to Cabo, D.C. with a model
That’s Tammy from Miami, put her face on the white like Sosa
Come and get a close up
I’m on the post like the power forward
From the hoodies to the Tom Ford
Big up, f-for the stick up
They wanted me to hiccup
I copped the Bent’ over sticker
A- about to come and pick your chick up
Gladiator theme music with Casino suits
Godfather trilogy, Al Pacino shootin’
This that Benny Blanco ‘fore he killed Carlito
This that Larry Davis before he caught that Rico
Them Bronx streets, Teflon fleek
In the jungle, while you holdin’ hands in Palm Beach
We was climbin’ fences, we was playin’ benches
One time for my bitches, naked on the trenches
European boots, European suits
African diamonds, my niggas shinin’
My nigga Chinx son became my own son
The block where I’m from, you need your own gun

[Verse 3: Chinx]
Devil held me up, figured that I’d convert to God
Took my ground from the pavement and aimed it at the stars
Swag drippin’ by the liter, four ounce of purp’
The game ain’t for the weak, go and play the church
Off the Mary Jane, pills, syrup, thick smoke, coughing
Ridin’ on these suckas that opposed it
Ballin’, took the whistle from the ref and made my own calls
From the pens, got my homie on the phone call
No work, money goes under the mattress only
Hands clean, got some youngins that’ll back it for me
Really skatin’ budget, conflict diamonds only
Made my vow to the game, boy, that’s matrimony

[Chorus: Fe]
You lured me in with those whiskey eyes
You’ll tell me things, I know they’re all lies
I’ll fall, I’ll fall for you
And there’s nothin’ I can’t do

FRENCH MONTANA – Whiskey Eyes lyrics

[Intro: Chinx]
We cannot deal anybody else
(Rock party)
We cannot deal with what anybody else is sayin’
I’m a mothafuckin’ coke boy
1, 2, 3
I’m a mothafuckin’ coke boy

[Chorus]
You lured me in with those whiskey eyes
You tell me things, I know they’re all lies
I’ll fall, I’ll fall for you
And there’s nothin’ I can’t do

[Verse 1: French Montana]
Yo, Montana
Ayy, hit the game, put the wave in it
Go, go on tap your veins, put the needle in it
I-I snatch you by your head like an eagle did it
Shootout with the police like Siegel did it
Middle of the streets like The Beatles did it
Can’t be in it when you leave, or they leave you in it
Ev-Everything that’s gold ain’t wood and glue
I seen killers fold for certain killas
Have your money right when the law costs
I seen my favorite rappers turn to cornballs
The best thing I did was let that pain hurt my feelings
(Turn the pain into music)
Turn the music into millions, haaan
Got jerked my first deal, and I told ’em “Suck a dick”
Once I made my first mil’, I told them “Fuck a brick”
Brick, brick by brick, ’til it’s empire
L-l-lick by lick, gone a sleepwire
Had to learn taxes, help you relax
If you don’t own your masters, your classes turn to ashes
So hit the round table, count it all up
Or get the brown bag, count it all up
Call the bad bitches, round ’em all up
Come the first, we can count it all up
Millionaire bitches, hit the mall up
(International superstar)

[Chorus]
You lured me in with those whiskey eyes
You tell me things, I know they’re all lies
I’ll fall, I’ll fall for you
And there’s nothin’ I can’t do

[Verse 2: French Montana]
They said kill ’em with success, toe tag ya up
N-n-name a Hollywood bitch I ain’t rag up
P-p-promise, the pressure turn to diamonds
The karma turn to commas
If the block told you eye to eye
Seeing dreams in a bottle
The other son of Pablo
Trips out to Cabo, D.C. with a model
This Tammy from Miami, put her face on the white like Sosa
Come and get a close up
I’m on the post like the power forward
From the hoodies to the Tom Ford
Big up, f-for the stick up
They wanted me to hiccup
I copped the Bent’ over sticker
About to come and pick your chick up
Gladiator theme music with Casino suits
Godfather trilogy, Al Pacino shootin’
This that Benny Blanco ‘fore he killed Carlito
This that Larry Davis before he caught that Rico
Them calm streets, Teflon fleek
In the jungle, while you holdin’ hands in Palm Beach
We was climbin’ fences, we was playin’ benches
One time for my bitches, naked on the trenches
European boots, European suits
African diamonds, my niggas shinin’
My nigga Chinx son became my own son
The block where I’m from, you need your own gun

[Verse 3: Chinx]
Devil held me up, figured that I’d convert to God
Took my ground from the pavement and aimed it at the stars
Swag drippin’ by the liter, four ounce of purp’
The game ain’t for the weak, go and play the church
Off the Mary Jane, pills, syrup, thick smoke, coughing
Ridin’ on these suckas that opposed it
Ballin’, took the whistle from the ref and made my own calls
From the pens, got my homie on the phone call
No work, money goes under the mattress only
Hands clean, got some youngins that’ll back it for me
Really skatin’ budget, conflict diamonds only
Made my vow to the game, boy, that’s matrimony

[Chorus]
You lured me in with those whiskey eyes
You tell me things, I know they’re all lies
I’ll fall, I’ll fall for you
And there’s nothin’ I can’t do

French Montana – Whiskey Eyes (feat. Chinx) (Jungle Rules Album)

[Intro: Chinx]
We cannot deal anybody else
(Rock party)
We cannot deal with what anybody else is sayin’
I’m a mothafuckin’ coke boy
1, 2, 3
I’m a mothafuckin’ coke boy

[Chorus]
You lured me in with those whiskey eyes
You tell me things, I know they’re all lies
I’ll fall, I’ll fall for you
And there’s nothin’ I can’t do

[Verse 1: French Montana]
Yo, Montana
Ayy, hit the game, put the wave in it
Go, go on tap your veins, put the needle in it
I-I snatch you by your head like an eagle did it
Shootout with the police like Siegel did it
Middle of the streets like The Beatles did it
Can’t be in it when you leave, or they leave you in it
Ev-Everything that’s gold ain’t wood and glue
I seen killers fold for certain killas
Have your money right when the law costs
I seen my favorite rappers turn to cornballs
The best thing I did was let that pain hurt my feelings
(Turn the pain into music)
Turn the music into millions, haaan
Got jerked my first deal, and I told ’em "Suck a dick"
Once I made my first mil’, I told them "Fuck a brick"
Brick, brick by brick, ’til it’s empire
L-l-lick by lick, gone a sleepwire
Had to learn taxes, help you relax
If you don’t own your masters, your classes turn to ashes
So hit the round table, count it all up
Or get the brown bag, count it all up
Call the bad bitches, round ’em all up
Come the first, we can count it all up
Millionaire bitches, hit the mall up
(International superstar)

[Chorus]
You lured me in with those whiskey eyes
You tell me things, I know they’re all lies
I’ll fall, I’ll fall for you
And there’s nothin’ I can’t do

[Verse 2: French Montana]
They said kill ’em with success, toe tag ya up
N-n-name a Hollywood bitch I ain’t rag up
P-p-promise, the pressure turn to diamonds
The karma turn to commas
If the block told you eye to eye
Seeing dreams in a bottle
The other son of Pablo
Trips out to Cabo, D.C. with a model
This Tammy from Miami, put her face on the white like Sosa
Come and get a close up
I’m on the post like the power forward
From the hoodies to the Tom Ford
Big up, f-for the stick up
They wanted me to hiccup
I copped the Bent’ over sticker
About to come and pick your chick up
Gladiator theme music with Casino suits
Godfather trilogy, Al Pacino shootin’
This that Benny Blanco ‘fore he killed Carlito
This that Larry Davis before he caught that Rico
Them calm streets, Teflon fleek
In the jungle, while you holdin’ hands in Palm Beach
We was climbin’ fences, we was playin’ benches
One time for my bitches, naked on the trenches
European boots, European suits
African diamonds, my niggas shinin’
My nigga Chinx son became my own son
The block where I’m from, you need your own gun

[Verse 3: Chinx]
Devil held me up, figured that I’d convert to God
Took my ground from the pavement and aimed it at the stars
Swag drippin’ by the liter, four ounce of purp’
The game ain’t for the weak, go and play the church
Off the Mary Jane, pills, syrup, thick smoke, coughing
Ridin’ on these suckas that opposed it
Ballin’, took the whistle from the ref and made my own calls
From the pens, got my homie on the phone call
No work, money goes under the mattress only
Hands clean, got some youngins that’ll back it for me
Really skatin’ budget, conflict diamonds only
Made my vow to the game, boy, that’s matrimony

[Chorus]
You lured me in with those whiskey eyes
You tell me things, I know they’re all lies
I’ll fall, I’ll fall for you
And there’s nothin’ I can’t do

2 Chainz – Poor Fool (feat. Swae Lee) (Pretty Girls Like Trap Music Album)

[Chorus: Swae Lee]
Poor fool, streets don’t love you like I do
(My mama always said)
I said close your mouth and eat
You make some paper, then you make your own rules
(My mama always said, ayy, damn)
Poor fool, streets don’t love you like I do
I said close your mouth and eat
You make some paper, then you make your own rules

[Verse 1: 2 Chainz]
I’m from the hood and it’s evident
Used to sell drugs out my residence
Stayed in section 8 with relatives
Opportunity knockin’, I let ’em in
I done put Forgis on everything
I left the mall like Ginobili
And if I’m not successful, ain’t nobody gon’ come console me
I pray my mama quit smokin’
When my dad died, I got focused
I gotta table full of Ace of Spades
I don’t fuck around with you jokers (ooh)
Ain’t heard a word from my old friends
Heard they wanna kick my doors in
I done loaded up the 2-2-3
I’m so high they might call a goaltend, yeah
Lord knows, stashed work in the console
So many autos in my garage, I can’t open my car door
Bond on me like the sun on me
Gettin’ this bread she say, "You dropped crumbs on me"
Walked in the club and got ones only
Need a tat on my stomach that say prawns only
Raised by single parent Black woman
They call me Tity Boi ’cause she used to spoil me
She always told me

[Chorus: Swae Lee]
Poor fool, streets don’t love you like I do
(My mama always said)
I said close your mouth and eat
You make some paper, then you make your own rules
(My mama always said, ayy, damn)
Poor fool, streets don’t love you like I do
I said close your mouth and eat
You make some paper, then you make your own rules

[Verse 2: 2 Chainz]
Smoking on a yacht, call me Ricky Steamboat
Bags full of gas, used to serve them through the screen door
Tryna flip a brick, Shaq at the free throw
Taught by Scarface, Brad Jordan, Al Pacino, wooo
No rules, most of my partnas homeschooled
Most of my partnas got charges
And I ain’t talking about no mothafuckin’ dodges
Trappin’ up outta the college
I’m addicted to the rice at Benihana
Raised by a single parent Black woman
They call me Tity Boi ’cause she used to spoil me
She always told me

[Chorus: Swae Lee]
Poor fool, streets don’t love you like I do
(Yeah)
I said close your mouth and eat
You make some paper, then you make your own rules
(My mama always said, ayy, damn)
Poor fool, streets don’t love you like I do
I said close your mouth and eat
You make some paper, then you make your own rules