Quavo – BIG BRO lyrics

Dun Deal on the track

Is you with me or against me? (With me or against me?)
I’m a OG now so you need me (OG, I’m a OG)
Think you poppin’ Xanax bars, but it’s Fentanyl
(No-no bars, it’s Fentanyl)
Think you’re living life like rockstars but you’re dead now (Yeah)
Let me put you under my wing
I can teach you one thing (Let me put you under my wing)
Let me put you under my wing
I can show you it ain’t all about a chain (Ayy, ayy)

I’ma be your big bro (Big bro)
I’ma be your big bro (Big bro)
I’ma be your big bro (Big bro)
I’ma be your big bro (Big bro)
I’ma be your big bro (Big bro)
Say we all need a big bro (All need a big bro)
All need a big bro (All need a big bro)
I’ma be your big bro (Yeah)

Show you how to get a ring on that championship team
When you get a ring, it’s a championship
Teach ’em how to get them P’s on the back of RV’s
When you get ‘cross seas, it’s a championship
Clappin’ on things like I’m in New Orleans
When I hit ’em hard I be striking them
Calling all gangs ’cause I’m right with them
You too young to be hanging out all night with them

Brrrrrrr (Ahh)
Tsh, it’s a young nigga calling my phone (Ahh)
What’s happening?
Hey big bro, them niggas just got me for my chain (Ahh)
What?
Them niggas just set me up big brother
They just got me for my chain (Ahh)
Aw man (Ahh)
Damn (Ahh)
Ay, ay, calm down, calm down, we gon’ get it back (Ahh)
Just pull up on me, tell me what happened (Ahh)

Big bro ridin’ with the tool tight (Big bro)
Big bro straight, he live the coot life (Big bro)
Been through the struggle played the rules right (Big bro)
Ain’t got nothing to prove, big bro got nine stripes (Big bro)
You out here tryna live your broke life (You, you, ayy)
You out here tryna live that GOAT life (You, you, ayy)
You gonna fuck around, take your life (You, you)
Instagram and guns just don’t go right (No, no, ayy)

I’ma be your big bro (Big bro)
I’ma be your big bro (Big bro)
I’ma be your big bro (Big bro)
I’ma be your big bro (Big bro)
I’ma be your big bro (Big bro)
Say we all need a big bro (All need a big bro)
All need a big bro (All need a big bro)
I’ma be your big bro (Yeah)

Chief Keef – Hardly (The W Mixtape)

[Chorus]
Hold that thought, let me think
Pour a cup, let me drink
Girl you got an apple, let me touch
The police comin’, let me tuck
Eyes red, my cash blue
45 black, my tattoos
Take 50 racks to Barney’s
I love these bitches, hardly

[Verse 1]
To my fallen soldiers, know they restin’ up
I thank Lood everyday that I’m blessed as fuck
Carbon fire hydrant, he a’ wet you up
You lackin’ no cheetahs we a’ catchin’ up
You know I get that cheese, nigga Parmesan
Dinner is ready, nigga come get some
Ain’t no one-on-ones, nigga one is one
Don’t make me lace up and play run and gun
I’m in these streets, I’m walkin’ like
I’m in this foreign, I roll [?]
My hair not down, I run it up
Only thing I can give is zero fucks

[Chorus]
Hold that thought, let me think
Pour a cup, let me drink
Girl you got an apple, let me touch
The police comin’, let me tuck
Eyes red, my cash blue
45 black, my tattoos
Take 50 racks, to Barney’s
I love these bitches, hardly

[Verse 2]
Feelin’ hardly in them hundred car seats
Treat a tour bus like a fuckin’ RV
Pardon we, we finna crash a party
Made a Benjamin, Picasso is a fuckin’ art piece
Take the gang, hit the road
What we live by, is a code
I’m on an ocean, I rode the bus
There’s certain shit I can’t discuss
[?] it loves licks
Go send your shots [?] bricks
I’m too authentic, you counterfit
Choppers start glitchin’ when it’s tampered with
Smoked a lot of it, a pound of it
Two bitches, sandwich it
[?] lines of [?], Fanta it
[?] finish line, rental it
I fucked so many crazy hoes, I’m out my mind
And you can smack me, if I was lyin’
I peep who with me, I peep who lyin’
Who tryna’ stop me, I said who tryn’

[Chorus]
Hold that thought, let me think
Pour a cup, let me drink
Girl you got an apple, let me touch
The police comin’, let me tuck
Eyes red, my cash blue
45 black, my tattoos
Take 50 racks, to Barney’s
I love these bitches, hardly

Chief Keef – Hardly Lyrics

[Chorus]
Hold that thought, let me think
Pour a cup, let me drink
Girl you got an apple, let me touch
The police comin’, let me tuck
Eyes red, my cash blue
45 black, my tattoos
Take 50 racks to Barney’s
I love these bitches, hardly

[Verse 1]
To my [?] soldiers, [?] restin’ up
[?] everyday that I’m blessed as fuck
[?] he a’ wet you up
You lackin’ no cheetahs we a’ catchin’ up
You know I get that cheese, nigga Parmesan
Dinner is ready, nigga come get some
Ain’t no one-on-ones, nigga one is one
Don’t make me lace up and play run and gun
I’m in these streets, I’m walkin’ like
I’m in this foreign, I roll [?]
My hair not down, I run it up
Only thing I can give is zero fucks

[Chorus]
Hold that thought, let me think
Pour a cup, let me drink
Girl you got an apple, let me touch
The police comin’, let me tuck
Eyes red, my cash blue
45 black, my tattoos
Take 50 racks, to Barney’s
I love these bitches, hardly

[Verse 2]
Feelin’ hardly in them hundred car seats
Treat a tour bus like a fuckin’ RV
Pardon we, we finna crash a party
Made a Benjamin, Picasso is a fuckin’ art piece
Take the gang, hit the road
What we live by, is a code
I’m on an ocean, I rode the bus
There’s certain shit I can’t discuss
[?] it loves licks
Go send your shots [?] bricks
I’m too authentic, you counterfit
Choppers start glitchin’ when it’s tampered with
Smoked a lot of it, a pound of it
Two bitches, sandwich it
[?] lines of [?], Fanta it
[?] finish line, rental it
I fucked so many crazy hoes, I’m out my mind
And you can smack me, if I was lyin’
I [?] with me, I peep [?]
Who tryna’ stop me, I said who tryn’

[Chorus]
Hold that thought, let me think
Pour a cup, let me drink
Girl you got an apple, let me touch
The police comin’, let me tuck
Eyes red, my cash blue
45 black, my tattoos
Take 50 racks, to Barney’s
I love these bitches, hardly

Montana of 300 feat. Jalyn Sanders & No Fatigue – Stylin’ Lyrics

(Chorus – Jalyn Sanders)
She ride it like a stallion
When I hit it I be styling
That money keep calling its piling
Pop bands baby I don’t call it
Killing the ref don’t get T’d up
When we touch down better ease up
No tricking just stacking that cheese up
No falling, i’m balling no ring
And it’s no denying
I flex without trying
Your bi**h keep eyeing me
I’m sick like a virus
I’m fly like a pilot
I can not hide it

(Verse 1 – Jalyn Sanders)
Can’t you just tell I stay glo’d, yea
She wanna give me knowledge like an old head
Girl, i’m gone rock it like i’m harden
Stay fly like an attendant
See my team winning, no losing, no benching
I’m never….not to f**king mention
Got….waiting on me in Canada
Wanna kiss on my chest because i’m tatted up
It’s two of them yea one of me
Don’t matter let’s add it up
I got them killers right beside me
So if you pull it then they shooting like they Spike Lee
So if you try, yeah
Everybody dies, yeah

(Repeat Chorus)

(Verse 2 – No Fatigue)
When I’m flexing man I drip
Mj this is it
That black tooly be my bi**h
Tuck her like i’m Chris
I’m gonna f**k her like i’m pissed
Keep her no assist
In her water like I slipped
I swim like a fish
Not a hairdresser but I’m stylin
Your bi**h hitting on me yeah she fouling
Got a box up like an island
Where you can’t see it like violet
Trying to run it up like a RB
Clip hold a lot like a RV
Shawty talking bout she wanna stay the night
Need it in the morning like coffee
I rap and I ball like I’m Lillard
These ni**as be all in they feelings
You say that you ball you just scrimmage
You do all that for an image
Ice cold yeah that’s for ages
Gotta ni**a feeling like I’m ageless
My flexing come in different stages
I be turning bitches like pages

(Repeat Chorus)

(Verse 3 – Montana of 300)
When I slide on these squares these bi**hes break they necks
Boy, I will take your queen like we was playing chess
Before we f**king she s**king D Generation X
My pistol under my pillow I have the safest sex
I got bi**hes up in Dallas
I be styling like a stylist
Robin Jeans full of thousands
Dripping dressing like a salad
I laid her down like a pallet
Doggy style it got me growling
She moan I love the way she sounding
She can’t take it throw the towel in
Now when she see me she be smiling
Her ni**a hating like he Calvin
But I done snuck the 40 cal in
No ref I’m blowing if they fouling
When we touch down bi**h it’s wings up
I got chips I could slide like a Visa
Sometimes I go slow then I speed up
No cuffs but your bi**hes just got D’d up

(Repeat Chorus)