Skepta – Bullet from a Gun Lyrics

Play this song

[Intro]
Big smoke
SK level
Greaze!
Listen

[Chorus]
Like a bullet from a gun it burns
When you realise she was never your girl
It was just your turn
You got to face your demons, don’t matter how much money you earn
Your niggas said 4L, but the shit got real and you weren’t concerned
The same old story, the world spins round and round fam
Lessons have to get learned

[Verse]
Truth has to be told, I don’t bend I don’t fold
I lost count how many we sold
I went silver, I went gold
Then I went platinum so what’s next?
Supermodels tryna sex, sending nudes on the text
Can’t believe I used to be vex
See it’s too easy to write a sad song about how my dad raise me
‘Cause I’m looking in the mirror and my dad made me
A real top boy I just can’t play the victim
Been living my life as a kingpin
I’m calm with the heat in the kitchen
I was a young boy mum told me what my name really means
And the power just kicked in
I found my way home then I saw my granddad’s name on the gravestone, the same as mine
Already dead, nothing to fear, I been here from time
Chief SK sipping on palm wine
Everyday I laugh ’cause these niggas online
Another one, here today, gone tomorrow
Dick riding for some likes and a follow
Putting the work that’s all you need to buss
Shoutout Lancey, Headie, and J Hus
Shout 67, oh you see them with us
We was on tour, bare weed on the bus
Feds outside, the bus gotta push to the next city, gotta rush
Big plans getting discussed, so freedom is a must
Fuck the police, tell em’ eat my dust
‘Cause still it ain’t safe, not even in a world full of cops
I got bored of asking when is this hurt gonna stop
We don’t want to conversate or confirm with the opps
It is what it is
Recently I’ve been learning a lot
All I know is there’s no better feeling, than getting home and seeing my little girl in the cot, so
This year we’re done talking, forget the bagga chat, it’s just action
Man are trolling to get a reaction
Everyday it’s another distraction
Gotta fight temptation, can’t get lost in the sauce
Have I got a heart, yeah, of course
But I had to put my feelings on pause

[Chorus]
‘Cause like a bullet from a gun it burns
When you realise she was never your girl
It was just your turn
You got to face your demons, don’t matter how much money you earn
Your niggas said 4L, but the shit got real and you weren’t concerned
The same old story, the world spins round and round fam
Lessons have to get learned

[Outro]
Planet Earth

Young Thug – Paper Terminator Lyrics

Play this song

[Intro]
Guwop and Meechie (say it)
Free them, real legends (yeah)
They took care of the streets
I know they gon’ go to heaven (uhh)
We got London on da track
You wouldn’t think they locked up
The way that they steady blessin’ (oh)
I’ma give them some (oh)
And I’m gon’ ice out both they necklaces (oh)

[Chorus 1]
The terminator, I see paper, I need Vizine (yeah)
I know some Haitians, they say “Sak Pase,” they hyenas (sak pase!)
I know some niggas cut like chefs and they cook Justin Bieber (oh)
I feel like Farrakhan, I want some justice for them people (hey)
Catch up like mustard, DJ Mustard (woah)
If a nigga play with Thugger, repercussion (woah, blatt!)
Got racks up to 87, he’d have leased the Lexus (skrrrr)
2020, Kanye just might win the elections

[Verse 1]
I hope he win & shit!
I’ma win a necklace (Thugger)
I’ma fuck your bestie (hee)
We illegal weapons (woah)
All my niggas treacherous (swea, swea)
Hey! Goin’ out like Elvis Presley (yeah)
I’m already legend (oh)
I’m already rested
Ice on arm, look like a Rollie (oh)
I’ll hit that Ginobili (oh)
Rollie Pollie Ollie (oh)
Remind her of the old me (yeah)
Remind that she gotta fuck my slime
My bro and woadie (sheesh)
You don’t live if you owe me (swea)
Wallet chain like some goldies (ice, bling)
Bitch, you old wiggin’ (cash)
I’ve been told to step it up
She on that old shit (cash)
AP flooded, one of one
And I’m not even sure this it (cash!)
If you fucked her, then she caught it
Yeah, you owe the bitch (brrrrt)
Player, we on OG shit (pimp, chuch!)
Hun-hunnid thousand come on notices (racks, hunna!)
I-I’m a beast, I know I’m Willie B (ahh!)
Hunnid thousand spent and I didn’t notice it
Hey!

[Chorus 2]
The terminator, I see paper, I need Vizine (yeah)
Went got that paper, stacked it up, now I don’t gotta scheme (nah)
We in the kitchen cookin’ up, this ain’t no pot of beans (nah, woo)
Got off my ass, went got that bag, now I supply the team (swea)
Now I’m like mustard, ketchup, mustard (hey)
I’m like “baby, make me nut, or repercussion” (hey)
Put duck sauce and gravy on my racks, they like “okay” (hey)
Found out I fucked his hoe, now he calling me gay (what?)

[Verse 2]
I’m a shot-caller (caller, pots!)
I’m smokin’ gas and that’s that mud (ah, ah)
I’ma put that thumb right in her butt (woah, get it)
My lil girl want me to blow some racks on her (so what you did?)
I had to do it, I had to do it (woo, woo, woo)
She ain’t fuckin’ you like she should (woo, woo, woo)
She pulled up so fresh, and now they like ain’t (woo, woo, woo)
Fa-fa-fa-fa-fa, I wanna do it (brrrrrrrrtttt)
I put them trees on your head, I wish you wood (wish you would)
I was lookin’ at them Raris yesterday (skrt skrt)
Thinkin’ like two years ago, I got my cars from Chevrolet (swea)
AK-K-K-K-K-K-K (grah! brrr)
SK knock you to the moon, that’s my best day (yah, graw! brrr)
Nigga invasive (sheesh)
We don’t crab, we gon’ go and let the rest play (yeah)
I-I-I’m a bossa! B-O-S-S-A
Who you be? I can’t see
Sportsmanship, you can’t dee
Choppa E, J-E (what?)
Bitch, F-F
1500, Cash Money
All hunnas, watch your step
I will never stop ’til death
We gon’ dab in Molly deal
Hire me a lobster chef
No-no-no, no stoppin’ him! (no)

Smokepurpp – Watching Me Lyrics

[Verse 1]

I just bought a Patek for the 80, i’m a flex
Gave a Rollie to my dog, i said fuck it, let him have it
They don’t really want this smoke, and my niggas with that static
With that SK you get poked, and it’s semi-automatic

[Verse 2]

Yeah ou
Yeah i’m really with that static (uh)
Know i keep a Glock, and that bitch ain’t never jammin’ (lil purpp, yeah)
Yeah, yeah we really with that static (static, uh)
Leave them in the bushes like we tannin’ (du du du du, yeah)
Boy i feel just like a martian (yeah)
I-I just parked a Lambo where they told me not to park it (huh?)
Half a million on my neck i got it tatted, i’m a tiger (benjis, benjis)
I just opened up the cookie and it smell like i just farted

[Verse 3]

I just hopped up in the six-speed (six-speed)
I’m movin’ at light speed (light speed, uh)
Movin’ like Usain Bolt through all night, B (uh, uh uh)
Came up like an Icee (icee)
Stare too long and you might catch a brain freeze (uh)

Fuck a million, i need like 200 orders
Fuck a Ruger, we get Dracos in by the load (du du)
Fuck security, i still came in with my pole (du, pole)
Still came in with my hoes
In the back of the club, and i’m still gettin’ throat
We-we we get real slimy, we come in, wipe ya nose (ph, uh)
Yeah, We come in, real throat (ph, uh)
I can’t tell you what happened 10 minutes ago

I’m off the lean and Benzos

[Chorus]

Know they watchin’ me real close (yaa-ah)

I don’t feel the need to go outside anymo’ (yaa-ahh)

Know they watchin’ me really close
I don’t feel the need to go outside anymo’ (yaa-ahh)

Know they watchin’ me really close
I don’t feel the need to go outside anymo’ (yaa-ahh)

Know they watchin’ me really close

BlocBoy JB – Prod By BlocBoy Lyrics

[Intro]
Hah, hah, check it (word)
Hah hah hah (yeah yeah yeah), check it
(Yeah, yeah) hah, hah (yeah yeah yeah)
Hah (Bloc), hah (whoa), hah (word)

[Verse]
These niggas after me
I got them shooters on balconies
I’m gettin’ head from a bitch and she Japanese (word)
Niggas they talkin’, I’m loadin’ and clappin’ these
Loadin’ and clappin’ these pistols (pistols)
You are not an automatic hitter (a hitter)
Really you an automatic misser
Fuck it, I’ma automatic get you (huh?)
Smack a nigga ass with the pistol (pistol)
Pop a nigga ass like a pimple (a pimple)
Store-store-store run, get the gun (store run)
Up the Tommy, take his funds (he gone)
Take the hundreds leave the ones
For the strippers nigga (for the strippers)
I got an SK with a shank, that’s the tipper nigga (that’s the tipper)
Beat a nigga, sweep a nigga
We don’t need them niggas (fuck ’em)
I don’t think you niggas ’bout nothin’ (word)
When I see you in the street (huh?), you ain’t even got a gun
Askin’ niggas for money (word), nigga you ain’t got no funds
You know I do it B-I-G, you can call me Big Pun (yeah yeah yeah)
But I don’t smoke no pom-poms
Run up, get done up (word)
My clip is so heavy, I can’t hold my arm up (my arm up)
Y’all niggas faker than warmups (warmups)
I got the bread like a farmer (I-I-I-I)
Shoot like I’m Mario Chalmers (Chalmers)
Workin’ my wrist, fuck my arm up (fuck my arm up)
I feel like Nash on the Suns, Mario chasin’ them corn
You dancin’, we pull up with guns, I’m 700, you done (Crip, Crip)
Got my hitters in the front like a radiator
Using big words so you know they annihilate you
I’m in her mouth like Now & Laters, bitch I got all flavors
Bring that shit back, no turntable
Multiply that like times tables
We ain’t got time for that
If you really want a crease, use the iron for that
Now a nigga need a piece of his spinal back
In a line of MAC’s
Ke-ke-keep that, keep that iron for that
If it’s an altercation, nigga we use nines for that
We don’t do conversations, baby we don’t got time for that
We ain’t got time for that, we ain’t got time for that

[Outro]
(Hey, wait)
We gon’ do the ad-libs
(Hey, wait)
Tay, told ’em go’n do the ad-libs
Klay, I got your bitch callin’ me a, bae
And I really don’t know what to, say
I want her head like some motherfuckin’ braids
And you know I’m finna, ayy, ayy, ayy
And I made this beat, ayy
Got your bitch and she in the sheets, ayy
And we turnt up in the studio
Track nation, yeah we live in this fuckin’ ho
I got your bitch, she tryna book me for a fuckin’ show
She gon’ make you pay for it, and you already know
Bitch, I’m live
Like Channel Five
I just put ’bout a three five
In a blunt, now I’m so fuckin’ high
To the sky though
Nigga askin’ me these questions, I’m like why though?
And my niggas got that money standing five four
My money standing six four, I’m in a six four with the loads
Crip, Crip, Crip Crip Crip Crip Crip, Crip, Crip, Crip
Crip, Crip, Crip Crip Crip Crip Crip, bitch

Lil Yachty – Peek A Boo (feat. Migos)

[Intro: Quavo]
Ricky Racks
Peek-a-boo, woo!
Peek-a-boo

[Chorus: Lil Yachty]
Uh, uh, play with that pussy like peek-a-boo, uh
Play with that pussy like peek-a-boo, uh
Play with that pussy like peek-a-boo, uh
Play with that pussy like peek-a-boo, uh
Play with that money like peek-a-boo, ooh
Play with these bitches like peek-a-boo, uh
Broke ass bitch ass nigga
I’m not finna’ play with you, that’s what these rappers do
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, bitch
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo
Peek-a-boo, bitch
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, bitch
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, nigga
Lil Boat
I’m not finna’ play with you, that’s what these rappers do

[Verse 1: Lil Yachty]
Red dot, red dot, red dot, red dot, red dot
On his nose like Rudolph
Pull up to the scene, all white with the roof off
Take that lil’ bitch to the Ruth Chris
Fuck her, then fuck on her sister, I’m ruthless
Chill on the 6 when I’m fuckin’ on poochie
That bitch was ugly, but pussy on smoothie (wet)
Play with that kitty like hello
Took a step back then I bust it, I bust it, I bust it like Melo
Aiming at you and your fellows
My new bitch yellow
She blow that dick like a cello
Fuck it, then send that bitch home on the metro
Ooh, young nigga fly like a pigeon
Versace frames, they be hidin’ my vision
Make sure all my niggas eat, that’s the mission
Emotion, I’ma go get it, go get it, I got it

[Chorus: Lil Yachty]
Uh, uh, play with that pussy like peek-a-boo, uh
Play with that pussy like peek-a-boo, uh
Play with that pussy like peek-a-boo, uh
Play with that pussy like peek-a-boo, uh
Play with that money like peek-a-boo, ooh
Play with these bitches like peek-a-boo, uh
Broke ass bitch ass nigga
I’m not finna’ play with you, that’s what these rappers do
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, bitch
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo
Peek-a-boo, bitch
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, bitch
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, nigga
I’m not finna’ play with you, that’s what these rappers do

[Verse 2: Offset]
Open your eyes, bitch you see all this money
Made that lil’ bitch tape a brick to her stomach
You not the gang, we don’t kick it or punt it
Just bought the Wraith and I ride it tectonic
Look at the numbers, mechanics ain’t frontin’
I came from the limp, went to jail, I got punished, ooh
Pull in the 4, Freddy Kreuger, wow
My niggas’ tongue barracuda
You cappin’, I came from trappin’
I used to have the dope stashed in the cabinet (dope!)
Mama couldn’t tell me shit, where was my daddy? (Mom)
Look at my Patek, I’m flexin’, I’m petty (I’m petty)
I fucked the pussy the first time I met it
Won’t give you no credit, yeah, ate it, spaghetti
I cook the brick, cut the brick with machete
Married the money, the bitch wasn’t ready, uh, uh

[Chorus: Lil Yachty]
Uh, uh, play with that pussy like peek-a-boo, uh
Play with that pussy like peek-a-boo, uh
Play with that pussy like peek-a-boo, uh
Play with that pussy like peek-a-boo, uh
Play with that money like peek-a-boo, ooh
Play with these bitches like peek-a-boo, uh
Broke ass bitch ass nigga
I’m not finna’ play with you, that’s what these rappers do
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, bitch
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo
Peek-a-boo, bitch
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, bitch
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo, nigga
I’m not finna’ play with you, that’s what these rappers do

[Verse 3: Quavo]
New grey drop top Audi, 2013, yeah
White coco, butterfly wings, 2k17
Ice, ice, came out the machine, ice, came out the machine
Ice, baby
Draco, Uzi, Tommy gun, SK, hunting gun, all machines, brrrt
Yeah, hey, pull up on the side of ’em, skrrt
Let the clip ride on ’em
Ayy, fuck 12, open fire on ’em (fuck 12)
Open up fire on ’em (fuck 12)
Yeah, don’t tuck in my chain (nah)
I’m with the gang (gang,) hit you with range
Got them showers, here come the rain
Icy Hot sleep, these niggas in pain, hey

[Chorus: Lil Yachty]
Uh, uh, play with that pussy like peek-a-boo, uh
Play with that pussy like peek-a-boo, uh
Play with that pussy like peek-a-boo, uh
Play with that pussy like peek-a-boo, uh
Play with that money like peek-a-boo, ooh
Play with these bitches like peek-a-boo, uh
Broke ass bitch ass nigga
I’m not finna’ play with you, that’s what these rappers do

[Verse 4: Takeoff]
Left wrist, right is the Patek Philippe
Bad white bitch with a fatty, unique
Smokin’ on cookies from granny, trees
Pocket rocket, go go gadget, go go
Make a play, Madden, John
I know it was some speculation ’bout who the one
But we invented the dabbin’ (dab)
Fuck it, we just let ’em have it (have it)
Draco for niggas with static (brrt, static)
I can do magic and make me a rabbit
With usin’ my karats (ice, woah)
Just like the package, I’m drinkin’ on Actavis, expensive habits (mud)
Yellow bitch, Pikachu (bitch)
Cameltoe peekin’ at you
Look at you, peek-a-boo
Peek-a-boo, peek-a-boo