Top In the Trash (feat. Chief Keef)
Ha, it's Gucci, burr, go in, Mike WiLL Made It
Well, I'm blowin' kush, endorsin' it
For those that ain't as fortunate
I work my fork, I work my wrist
Got babies like the orphanage
Got cabbage like a cabbage patch
Got collard greens and turnips, bitch
I turn 'em in the turnin' lane
I'm always in a foreign whip
My trap boomin' like Bloomingdale's
A long line like you at the Ritz
Got bank like Lloyd, Yayo like Tony
But won't give you 50 cent
Red rubies on my Rolex bezel
It look like I slit my wrist
White diamonds like I'm Liberace
Bitch, come here and kiss my fist
I use Cristal for Listerine
I brush my teeth with purp codeine
I wash my face with bottled water
Drink champagne straight out the bottle
All my whips got superchargers
All my hoes are supermodels
He go hard but I go harder
He faker than Harry Potter
He try to turn up with two hundred ones
He's makin' me laugh
I drink my champagne out the bottle, nigga
I don't fuck with no glass
So many gualas in my pants, nigga
It's makin' me sag
And when I leave up out the lot, nigga
Top in the trash
So much money in my safe
I don't think that I can close it
So much money in my jeans
I don't think that I can tote it
Had a good day
And then I went and bought a Roger
Shorty brain me so crazy
Had to tell the girl to hold it
Got a college girl, just spoken words
She think that she a poet
When I smash the girl, just spoken words
I have to keep her focused
'Bout to put me out the buildin'
Cause I got them nosy neighbors
Say I'm smokin' loud and they complainin'
'Bout the noisy fragrance
Think I'm going through a phase
Cause my verses are amazing
Think I'm walking through a maze
When I'm walking through the station
Drawing pictures with my words
While these other niggas tracin'
Walking back and forth pacing
Like my girl gon' have a baby
He try to turn up with two hundred ones
He's makin' me laugh
I drink my champagne out the bottle, nigga
I don't fuck with no glass
When I pull up to the lot, aye
All the hoes gon' drop, aye
Like look at his watch, aye
Like look at his car
Look at his earrings
Look at his his bling bling, aye
That nigga stuntin', just damn near killed the scene
Make bitches scream and faint, aye
I just poured me up a pint of that purple
I don’t like red
You want to fight bitch, you might be dead, aye
Red white chalk, some niggas in the rear with black hawks
Counting so much damn green, hurt my damn thumb
I was trying to fucking eat, bit my damn tongue
He try to turn up with two hundred ones
He's makin' me laugh
I drink my champagne out the bottle, nigga
I don't fuck with no glass
compositores: Keith Cozart, Radric Davis
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