NIKI – Dancing With The Devil lyrics

[Verse 1]
Wide awake at 2 A.M
Think I’m losing who I am
Why you keep on choosing them
When all I’m tryna do is make sure you got a nice bed and welcoming arms to come home to
But time and time and time again
You’re only here every now and then
When’s it gonna end?

[Pre-Chorus]
People say I’m all the kinds of crazy ’cause I’m crazy for you
They say, “How you love a ghost you can’t touch?”
They ain’t wrong but, I just love you too much
So go and call a GP
Baby say I’m too freaky

[Hook]
Oh my god, I’m so gone
I’m dancing with the devil with my high heels on, on
Unapologetic ’bout it

‘Cause the lovin’ so good, though I know baby’s no good
Yeah the lovin’ so good, if I could stop it, I would
Yea the lovin’ so good ’cause we up to no good
But the lovin’ so good

[Verse 2]
The other day your mama called
She told me all in all
I was the best you’ll ever have
You won’t commit a crime bigger than givin’ me up
And I know that she ain’t wrong
And I know someday a better man will come along
But your lips got me sayin’ “Let bygones be bygones”
I don’t wanna fucking move on

[Pre-Chorus]
Boy, why am I so crazy for you?
You’re so talented in not comin’ home
But if it ain’t you I’d rather be alone
SOS situation
Can’t say no to temptation

[Hook]
Oh my god, I’m so gone
I’m dancing with the devil with my high heels on, on
Unapologetic ’bout it

‘Cause the lovin’ so good, though I know baby’s no good
Yeah the lovin’ so good, if I could stop it, I would
Yea the lovin’ so good, ’cause we up to no good
But the lovin’ so good

Tory Lanez – Memories Don’t Die (Freestyle)

[Intro]
Turn it up a little bit
Yeah, uh

[Verse 1]
Tory Lanez got the block on whiplash
The cops on draw quick fast so my shit stashed
I keep a big fifth stashed in the whip dash
Trip, catch six in a second like quick flash
Bitch pass if you ain’t lettin’ the clique smash
I switch tags just so I could let my chicks brag
Niggas whole swag ain’t half my chicks bag
No jokes, those’ll get you smoked like quick drag
I click fast and blang your bitch ass
Brain from your chick in the whip that I just crashed
Sound wow like Tory puttin’ a thou down
Tryna make a bitch bow down in the chow chows
Don’t you know I sing songs with a mink on
And have chicks dripping like the sink in their string thong?
I ding dong ditch bitches when the fling gone
With a mink on and four fingers that my rings on
Quick drawin’ like you don’t know where my dick going
Like I ain’t been up in your chick dorm since the flip phones
My ice rocky, nice jocky
So much maple leaf money, niggas think I’m playing ice hockey
I’m that fly type, move through the night cocky
Bitch, I look so good, even the dykes watch me
I’m on indictment with a bad lightskin
Chain rain so much water they think we ’bout to have lightning
When I spit, niggas think I’m in that lab fightin’
Niggas think that I’m left hooking and I’m jab writin’
One thing is, I ain’t in that lab writin’, nigga everything is off top
Word to my bald spot
I used to have to stash work in my broad spot
Cops came, had to stash work in the bra strap
Phone calls and my connect is just a call drop
We don’t count down on those, that’s a ball drop
Come on akh, pretendin’ y’all niggas on block
Twin fives put like ten of y’all niggas on shots
We could do it however y’all niggas wan’ rock
Make this shit pop like oil in a chrome pot
And it don’t stop
I’m not a picture painter but I will put a nigga in his own chalk
I let the .9 spill
I got a ill lil’ shooter out in Brownsville down for the wild deal
I’ll feel blessed if nigga test and my shooter leave him streched ’til the bones in his spine chill
I’m ill nigga, this is not a time drill
I used to serve on the strip and watch Seinfield
Man, I remember serving on the strip
Watching out for cops hoping out suburbans on the strip
Working on the strip, chilling with a .30 on my hip
Whole team of shooters, bunch of Steph Curries in my clique
Boy, I’m a wild boy, check the style, boy
I’m a real baller, you a towel boy
I’ll put ’em in the future, no Elroy
‘Cause I pop tops like I’m opening some Altoids
Breath minty and fresh Fendi
Got a hustler chick down to smuggle bricks through the West Indies
I’ll hustle ’til it’s nothing left in me, and the plug hear ’bout me and gotta invest in me
I send semi’s at any nigga that’s testin’ me
I’m prayin’ to the lord, he’s the one that been blessing me
But yo, I got a sick set
And my jewels like dipset
And we on cam like dipset
These fuck niggas say they coming for the kid neck?
Give you dog shots like I’m checking in a sick pet
Got street ties with the street guys
Even if they fly on G5s, they’ll kill you for a G5
Fifteen hunnid, my FN gunning
My dawg copped twenty birds, and they just keep coming
He sold four and plus he let a sick team run ’em
We ain’t talking ’bout a verse when it’s a sixteen coming (check)
I’m a real nigga
I keep a Tommy on my body but when you see me, I ain’t wearin’ Hilfigher
Just a ladder and a roofer that’ll drill niggas
And down to take his charge when he kill niggas
Look, I’m the hot kid in the school
I pull up to the party and I pop chicks in the pool
Hot chicks say I’m hot and my dick is a jewel
Just let me box with that twat, I’ll stick it and move
Yo, she like the way my wrist dance
She like the way the wrists on my fist dance
Every time a nigga switch hands
And my guns and shooters on quickstands
You would thinks the guns designer, they way they come in rip pants
Wrist cuts, my wrist slants and I’m in the truck getting jiggy, tryna get up in your chick pants
Bitch dance
It’s four hoes with me, if them four hoes did me, shawty, it won’t be a fifth chance
My whole stretch from south France to Brisbane
And they attached to the arms like wrist bands
Look, I send ’em up and I’ma send a [?] back if they sent ’em up
My dawg got a twenty on him and a semi tucked
But, I’ve been in so many life or death situations, I just wanna live it up
I dropped it off and I picked it up
And my Joels all Embiided and I’m feeling all sixered up
I’m in the club tryna find a thick chick to fuck
Man, after all my neck and wrist is all glittered up
Bitches wanna fuck it up, now they want to lick it up
They man hear about it next day and wan’ get me touched
In a Bentley, tints tucked, Cuban linked up
Big chain on me in case I gotta get you inked up
Wrink up, see the wrist roller wrinked up
Whole squad looking like we robbed us a Brink’s truck
Any cat that know Lanez know I’m worldwide
I leave you on your sweatshirt like Earl died
I’m more wavy than a surfer on a curl tide
And you a bitch, even lookin’ from your girl’s eyes
I’m a stunna, my wrist done up, my girls got the scar tissue on her tits done up
Fucking with her, I’ma have to lift gun up and bang bang ’til the tissue on your hip come up
I’m a all around star player
I’m a lot of y’all father like Darth Vader
Fuck niggas know I charge for my hard labour
I spent nights in that cold for that hard paper
Listen, that’s why I feel I’m the most hot in the place
A lot of niggas saying they hot but they not in the place
And your block? It ain’t hot, man it’s safe
Next nigga diss Tory Lanez ’bout to get shot in his face, nigga
I hate niggas that lie and move funny
That why keep fly and chill on the cruise money
Y’all niggas lose money, y’all niggas just snooze money
Just look at my blood, my shit is just ooze money
Look, I do this for that youngin’ on the corner
That hustle all day though he never had a daughter
He never had a father, he hustle in the corner
I’m telling that he wilding tryna truck the shit to Florida
But niggas love to hustle, it’s aura
When you come up from the poor, you struggle and you short
You gon’ do it for mother, lost your brother to the force
So you in the only son to keep the loving in the core
Every day you ducking strays tryna run in to the store
And you can’t afford a bed, layin’ covers on the floor
And you momma’s stressing and her blood pressure getting lower
And your daughter want that brand new toy
But it’s hard to show her that you broke and can’t afford it
So you on the corner, niggas talking shit and the plug, he keep avoidin’ ya
So you wanna hustle and you tryna get your coin up
Out there on your own, but shit, Satan will corner ya
So you wanna own, tryna get your own up
Now I’m on my own, I’m just tryna get my own up
Had to come through, 54, bought the chrome up
Niggas tried to hate, had to bring back the chrome up
I’m on Funk Flex, ay yo fuck everybody that said, "fuck Flex"
I don’t care what niggas talk and how they wan’ talk
I’m on my thing and my niggas let them things bark
Listen, look, I been this way, I don’t care how the fuck I’m coming in this way
I’m with my nigga Ray, my nigga Uno and my nigga GP
Niggas come through, I got them bitches on the CD
They gon’ watch me like we on the DVD
I don’t give a fuck man, you see me on the TV
And I’m all up in the Champs, and I’m all up in Adidas
I got all the bad bitches, more stripes than a zebra
Niggas hatin’ on me, ’cause they see me and I’m gettin’-
Fuck around, see me magazine, up all up in the features
XXL ain’t want me on the cover, next year they came around
I fucked around and dubbed ’em
I don’t give a fuck, y’all nigga know how I be rocking
Forty fifth on the block, niggas milly rocking
Ciroc poppin’, shout out my nigga French
That French Vanilla is lit and the shit is intense
I had a bad bitches threesomes last night
It was mad riches, all my niggas savages
I come to the block, above the averages
I don’t give a fuck, my niggas

Jay Critch – Still Sippin (feat. Rich The Kid)

[Verse 1: Rich The Kid]
I pour a 4 I’m leaning
I pour a 8 I’m sleeping
Pour out the pint it’s bleeding
Who got the drank? I need it
Double cup, I got the clean know Imma pour it up
She hate when I’m sipping she know I don’t give a fuck
Don’t touch my cup bitch
Need more seals quick
I can’t spill this, still got a activis
Who dat GP?
A box of the pints in the truck when they call me
I might pull up the rari
Sippin that fanta pardon me
Y’all drinking that garbage ass quality
I got a 2 liter on me
Only pour up with my homies
Don’t ask me if you don’t know me
Slowed up, momma said put that drink shit up
But I’m in love with my cup
I keep sippin and sippin

[Verse 2: Jay Critch]
(Yo pass that cup, hey)
Matter fact go make that a double cup
Went and got me two bitches I doubled up
That’s your wifey why she wanna come with us
Let her sip on my cup and she fell in love
I might put my main bitch in Celine
This drank got me deep in my dreams
Fell asleep I was whipping the V
Pull up and I’m making a scene
Why they talking ain’t making no cheese
Your opinion don’t matter to me
Like a farmer I gather the green
Name a young nigga harder than me
She be sucking me up she a leech
Fuck the wave we done started a beach
I’ve been balling lil nigga don’t reach
She keep calling I don’t wanna speak
But I just spent a bag on some feets
Shits might last me a week
Woke up in the Jag with a freak
Cup full of red like it bleed
Then we go hit the stain like bleach
I’m scoring see you in the bleachers
I’m snoring got lean and some reefer
She broke? No I don’t wanna meet her

Roc Marciano – Already (Rosebudd’s Revenge Album)

[Verse 1]
Titanium timepiece, dimepiece between the sheets with body heat
Maserati’s not leased
Cock the pump shottie, it make your body leak
Not your main hottie, she kinda knock-kneed
Mahogany woodgrain all in the five speed
Silk lay on me, pray for me
8 million stories in the naked city
The humidity it made the titties oil
Skin is salty, it’s sultry, can’t fault me
For all this ice on me I’m tryna stay frosty
Smokin’ lah out in Bogotá
The focus, niggas lookin’ like smokers in the eyes
You poked and left immobilized where the vultures fly
I’m bout to cop a home in Oceanside
Sky Dweller’s frozen in time, my mind’s a goldmine
You washed and left to dry on the clothesline
Hoes on your vines look like Kanye clothing line
Bring you closer to God, caught you laying low out in Omaha
Oh my god
Don’t start me [?]
Omar scar [?]
Send your family a nice postcard

[Chorus]
Pimpstead (already), get the bag (already)
New whips (already), all my hoes (already)
See my team (already), I been a G (already)
Light the weed (already), nigga we (already)
Yeah nigga (already, already)
How the fuck we get down boy (we already, already)

[Verse 2]
Kiss the ring, million dollar ding-a-ling swing
I’m just gettin’ back in the swing of things
My jeans fit me like Springsteen
Bring M16s I might need a spring cleaned
I’m tryna hear these niggas sneakers squeak
Think it’s sweet get your street sweeped
Sweep you off your feet, that’s off GP
Squeeze three at your Bentley GT
With the drum my queen Sheila E
The whips ceiling-free, rip the brick up like cream of wheat
We the team to beat
The fans demand new work, but I’m a man of few words
Your tool don’t burst if so then who heard, your view’s blurred
I couldn’t speak, the OG said chew your food first
Spoon was burnt, my shoes is worth an MF DOOM verse
Niggas they claim they ain’t rappers doin’ all the rappin’ (how that work?)
Niggas sayin’ they got cash and I’m saying they catfish
Ain’t none of that shit off Saks Fifth
No respectable establishment carries this
Save yourself the embarrassment, you shallow
When it comes to this apparel, you not parallel
You still in my shadow, ho nigga stealin’ my swag though
Now I know just how Satchmo felt