Childish Gambino – AssShots Remix (feat. R O Y A L T Y) lyrics

[Produced by: Big Soj]

[Intro: DJ Drama (Childish Gambino)]
Is it too much to ask for lyrics?
(Alright, alright)
(Royalty has never done a track together)
I mean it’s 2014 man, c’mon really
(Well I thought we would get everybody on the same track)
You niggas could learn a lot by now
Watch this
(I’ll go first)
Stone Mountain

[Verse 1: Childish Gambino]
Give a fuck about these haters man
I’m the flyest that there’s ever been
I’m always reppin’ Stone Mountain
You know my show is sold out
You know my smoke is so loud
And still about his business
Stay up out my business
Flow so vicious
When niggas talkin’ shit, shut they mouth, that’s what this is
I walk up in the party, we took all the bitches
They love how I move, we might need a minute
God damn, Summer looking like son of Sam, I’m killin’ niggas
Hang with models and a couple strippers
She love my music so I nutted in her
Damn I’m decent, Liam Neeson
I’m takin’ over, you playing sober
Gassed up and you finished last
I’m crying nigga, that’s tear gas
Woooh, now I’m flexing
Was that fire? Bitch you guessed it (Oh shit!)

[Hook: Steve G Lover]
I bet you I can make that ass hot
C’mon bae, drop it like a ass shot
Say my sixteen will make that ass hot
Song done, drop it like a ass shot
Boy stuntin’ got they ass hot
Go on nigga, drop ’em like a ass shot
Jump on this beat and get they ass hot
Go on girl, drop it like a ass shot

[Verse 2: Steve]
I am, the prince, two cups, always
Our team, got money, we stunt hard, so don’t hate
Fall off, no way, we run it, it’s too late
We smoke sour, call that flowers
I just blew, a bouquet
My girl, so sweet, like Crème brûlée
But still, she that hood, like red Kool-Aid
We on top, toupée, I got hits, like touché
I just did Rome in one day
I just flew out to Croat-ia
I’m independent man and still doin’ major
Young King so flashy got me lookin’ like lazers
Atlanta housewife I can make ya like Phaedra
So let’s play my, I’mma play ya
Get bands, then head to la playa
My niggas is bias
My brothers the owner, fuck with ’em get higher
G-lover spit fire, that flame is saliva
We’re riders that got Nick Cannon’s now
Make ’em drop you like Mariah, wassup?

[Hook: Steve G Lover]
I bet you I can make that ass hot
C’mon bae, drop it like a ass shot
Say my sixteen will make that ass hot
Song done, drop it like a ass shot
Boy stuntin’ got they ass hot
Go on nigga, drop ’em like a ass shot
Jump on this beat and get they ass hot
Go on girl, drop it like a ass shot

[Verse 3: Swank]
Start her off with gin and tonic, mine’s a double
Out in Vegas fool, you know I’m bettin’ double
Double your car note, double your mama rent
Ain’t shit but house money, I ain’t spent a cent
Mo’ money mo’ problems, yeah that’s official
I just throw cash at it, that’s my issue, it’s hard
So I feed my boo boo hard that moo moo bags until she…
If she need mo’, then girl I miss you, bye
But ain’t no lookin’ back
Cause I know it’s a salt pile (you salty?)
I’m goin’ Chevy with metallic fuckin’ gun style
No door handle, she high tryna figure how
While my auto mobile looks like Girls Gone Wild
That’s top off, nigga drop offs
Slidin’ dirty with yo’ dame
OG sativa baby, watch ahead for that air plane
Fuck with my money, and I’m at your house like the mail came
You meet the Swank lion, beast mode, untamed

[Hook: Steve G Lover]
I bet you I can make that ass hot
C’mon bae, drop it like a ass shot
Say my sixteen will make that ass hot
Song done, drop it like a ass shot
Boy stuntin’ got they ass hot
Go on nigga, drop ’em like a ass shot
Jump on this beat and get they ass hot
Go on girl, drop it like a ass shot

[Verse 4: Fam]
Big homie have you seen her
She got the Dobrev, all white Nina
Packed like Serena, or maybe Trina
Shit I don’t know, they both got ass
So of course he came to give you all these courses
And you can’t ignore ’em, cause these hoes adore ’em
Words hot, don’t slur ’em
I just speak up, so please ho, keep up
Please ho, keep up
Ok, ok, ok, she ain’t getting money, no way
I met her on a Monday, but I fucked her back to Sunday
I told her she my Brandy, I’m her one and only Wanya
Till she drove off the driveway in her ’97 Hyundai, bitch

Dipset – More Than Music (feat. Jr Writer & Hell Rell)

[Intro: Duke Da God]
In the beginnin’ of this movement it was all a dream
The passion, the dedication, the persistence
To achieve greatness, to reach each and every speaker from here on out
We didn’t land on the rock, we moved the rock
All my niggas from state to state. All my niggas from town to town
All my people from nation to nation, yes I brought somethin’ powerful with me!
And yes I brought some powerful people with me!
And we’d like to present somethin’ we call More Than Music

[Verse 1: Hell Rell]
Niggas clap to the flow they applaud my music
We do this for the love Duke this is More Than Music
1’s for the money and 2’s for the show and
3’s for the Cadillac ridin’ on vogues, man
Can you imagine how we smashin’
This motherfuckin’ game we got a right to braggin’
I ain’t with the talkin’ fam I see you and attack
And we the Byrdgang I threw this eagle on my back
The Bronx is where I reside haze got me hizzigh
I hustle to get rich; you hustle just to get by
How you cook your coke I ice water with mine
I’ll burn all my money before I give a bitch mine
Picture Rell trickin’ on ’em
They not envelopes picture Rell lickin’ on ’em
The game switchin’ on ’em
Still over the stove cookin’ that raw
And I analyzed the game when Killa took me on tour
All the G’s salutin’ me bitches screamin’ my name
Felt good to be on stage rocks gleam from the chain
I put my life on paper when I record my music
You can look me in my eyes and see it’s More Than Music

[Verse 2: J.R. Writer]
Me I still tag play the groupies
At the Waldorf tryin to valet the hooptie
Sazzae a hoochie with bags made of Gucci
And truly take her to a ballet and movie
What you ain’t understadin’ shorty
Picture me blam the 40
I got a line up of killas tha’tll just blam you for me
Cause when I’m out its like Girls Gone Wild
Soon as I lift up my shirt the cameras on me
I freak a land of hoes sittin’ on that Phantom Rolls
Pound down an O roll it in Habana golds
Sinatra dutches you gots to love it
Addressin’ like dressin’ catch up/ketchup the drop is mustard
See how I switch fag Jag with the rip rag
How many rides I own never been to Six Flags
If the bitch ask for me to really trick bags
I tell her kiss ass hit her with a Kiss laugh
Snitch you should go gossip with the chicks
I’m logically the shit a bottle full of Cris
That’s Prada on my kicks your wife all on my dick
A pimp check the blue mink pocket full of chips
A lot of y’all sick corner based snort this tape
And when I rap scrap they say Lord have sake
The six-minute prince every rapper sorta hate
Cause I do it no pause breathers nor water breaks
They boy get stupid ain’t no more to me
Ain’t no more to see, I’m More Than Music
So the dudes lust ’em it’s a movement fuck ’em
Writers Block for the hell of it and Duke Production