Gucci Mane – Pay Me (Ft. Fruity) Lyrics

[Hook: Fruity and Gucci Mane]
I love you Gucci Mane, I love you too
You got me? by all the things you do
Well, bitch, pay me what you oh me, Imma pay you what I oh you
I love you Gucci Mane, I love the loot
You got me? by all the things you do
Well, bitch, pay me what you oh me, Imma pay you what I oh you

[Verse 1: Gucci Mane]
I need a bitch that can pull me a bitch
Or turn a trick, or better yet, turn me on to a lick
I hope to know she a ho, who, who ain’t scared of this shit
I hope to know without a pimp, she a regular bitch
I give her gang for every situation, have her infatuated
I got the gift of gab, and the conversation who’s the nation
I need a couple more to expect Gucci’s operation
The one Matroppa Rapper, pimpin is my ocupation
So stop all that hezatation, all that procrastonation
Cooperation leads to indulging and fornacation
So Fruit, you say you love me, but bitch, I love the loot
I coppin blow, I’m in persute of a new prostitute

[Hook: Fruity and Gucci Mane]
I love you Gucci Mane, I love you too
You got me? by all the things you do
Well, bitch, pay me what you oh me, Imma pay you what I oh you
I love you Gucci Mane, I love the loot
You got me? by all the things you do
Well, bitch, pay me what you oh me, Imma pay you what I oh you

[Verse2: Fruity]
What you know about a ass shaking, money making nigga
Break a bitch, on some pimp shit, call me a pimp bitch
A surtified man, ? these hoes?
Tell him bring my money back, sure my shits in tackt, bitch
I say these bitches dreams, tell these hoes they on my team
A ? lookin ho, just done with ? skeem
Let me tell all you niggas a lil something bout me
I’m well trained, I’m off the chain, nigga, I ain’t ?

[Hook: Fruity and Gucci Mane]
I love you Gucci Mane, I love you too
You got me? by all the things you do
Well, bitch, pay me what you oh me, Imma pay you what I oh you
I love you Gucci Mane, I love the loot
You got me? by all the things you do
Well, bitch, pay me what you oh me, Imma pay you what I oh you

[Verse 3: Fruty]
Some bitches talk the talk, but I be walking the walk
My nigga Gucci round M up, and I make sure they trick off
Dolo might, but I will, fuck you ? the ticket, pay yo meal
Some bitches need X, but my pussy be red and wet
Got so much game, guess you can say I’m a poetic pimp
VIP type bitch, I strut, fuck a limp
Niggas eyes be romen, when they see me pass
They wanna grab on this ass, I’m straight dropping for cash
? place a pillo under my knees?
Sippin and slerppin and spit
Hit a split and and slow ride yo dick, when I’m turnin tricks
All for the love of the straight drop clique
My nigga, all for the love of the straight drop clique

[Hook: Fruity and Gucci Mane]
I love you Gucci Mane, I love you too
You got me? by all the things you do
Well, bitch, pay me what you oh me, Imma pay you what I oh you
I love you Gucci Mane, I love the loot
You got me? by all the things you do
Well, bitch, pay me what you oh me, Imma pay you what I oh you

Young Thug – U Ain’t Slime Enough Lyrics

[Chorus: Young Thug]
I slime you out, so I have you on this wing jet
I slime you out, and split it with the team, yeah
I slime you out, we pull up with the sting, yeah
I slime you out, [?] with a machine, yeah
I slime you out, I slime you motherfuckers out
I slime you out, we comin’ burnin’ up your house
I slime you out, you can see it in my eyes
(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

[Verse 1: Karlae & Young Thug]
Outside lookin’ in, there is no comparison
You put them bitches in a line and I’ll embarrass them
Magnificently written, all this shit that I be kickin’
Ain’t no lions in the jungle, really all these bitches kittens
Who they kiddin’, they be smitten
Tell ’em bye and then good riddance
And they freestyles bye, I can tell that shit go written (slime)
Excuse me! See we different
Everybody out here braggin’ ’bout their dough
But when it’s time to spend that money, where that bread go?
I beat that shit like congo, I pass hoes Rondo (slat)
Then I go inside that Louis purse, run ho
Proudly I kick shit, with thousands money pilin’ up
Y’all be on that internet, but money is not dialin’ up
Your wild dreams ain’t wild enough, so what you come at me for?
I’ll invade your lane, I suggest you take a detour (woo, woo, woo!)
And please check the decor, and y’all drinkin’, we pour
Never say that we poor, y’all keep actin’
Bitch I’m goin’ Eeyore, is it just me or… these hoes need to level up?
Just bought a green Birkin, call her 7-Up
Your real isn’t real enough, so tell me what you fishin’ for

[Refrain: Karlae]
Yeah, yeah these bitches ain’t slime enough
Yeah, yeah these niggas not slime enough
Yeah, yeah these bitches ain’t slime enough
Yeah, yeah these niggas not slime enough

[Chorus: Young Thug]
I slime you out, so I have you on this wing jet
I slime you out, and split it with the team, yeah
I slime you out, we pull up with the sting, yeah
I slime you out, [?] with a machine, yeah
I slime you out, I slime you motherfuckers out
I slime you out, we comin’ burnin’ up your house
I slime you out, you can see it in my eyes
(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

[Verse 2: Young Thug]
I scream “Slime, slime, slime,” they come in a rush
I got snakes tatted on me and my chain on my neck
I slimed up my grandma
Diamonds on my Cartiers, I see farther than Farrakhan (woo)
I know niggas gettin’ extorted, like the common cold
I done ate cereal out a plate, I done ate cereal out a bowl
Niggas ain’t slimy enough, niggas ain’t grimy enough
I got black diamonds like my grandpa’s snuff
Way more money than you
Ain’t no sympathy, no
Niggas’ll wipe your nose like you’re sick, you know?
All my niggas shoot first like a damn intro
I get boxes of dough, Kimbo
You a slimy motherfucker Karlae, tell ’em the truth
You’ll catch a body for me, motherfucker, tell ’em the truth
All of these thotties ’bout to think I’m super slimey for you
But you the hottest in the mothafucka, that’s my boo, yeah

[Refrain: Karlae]
Yeah, yeah these bitches ain’t slime enough
Yeah, yeah these niggas not slime enough
Yeah, yeah these bitches ain’t slime enough
Yeah, yeah these niggas not slime enough

[Verse 3: Duke]
I’ll slime you out (slime you out)
All these other bitches thirsty, they want clout (they want clout)
Dick in her mouth (dick in your mouth)
I’m on her hip like a pouch (pouch)
She like when I’m beat her down (down)
Man ringin’ bells in the town (brrt)
I was just servin’ them ounces (ounces)
Now we poppin’ them bottles
We all in the VIP and we standin’ on couches (couches)
Surrounded by nothin’ but vultures (vultures)
I gotta keep it in motion (motion)
You see me, you know that I’m totin’ (totin’)
Playin’ ’bout none of my bros
And if I see you, I’m wipin’ your nose

[Chorus: Young Thug]
I slime you out, so I have you on this wing jet
I slime you out, and split it with the team, yeah
I slime you out, we pull up with the sting, yeah
I slime you out, [?] with a machine, yeah
I slime you out, I slime you motherfuckers out
I slime you out, we comin’ burnin’ up your house
I slime you out, you can see it in my eyes
(Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah)

Aminé – HICCUP Lyrics

[Intro]
Boston

[Hook: Aminé]
My wrist sore (true), my wrist sore (true)
You don’t want no problems, bitch, no hiccups
No hiccups, no hiccups
He ain’t bout that drama, bitch, no hiccups
I don’t trust no one
My wrist is lookin frozen

[Post Hook: Aminé]
Ice cold, too cold, numb
Might re-e-e-e-e-ewind
Gave her dick and then I split, mhm
Workin’ like I got a shift, mhm
Youngest nigga poppin’ shit, mhm
Don’t want no kids that’s bad as shit, yeah
Had my whole my whole life give and go, mhm
24, now 24, mhm
Diamonds on my bi-i-i-itch, mhm
That’s drip all on my wri-i-ist, mhm

[Verse 1: Aminé]
Ass fat, bring it right back
I-I’m in the VIP, cause they pay me for this shit
Imma be here if I be here
That’s your car note on my wrist

[Hook: Aminé]
My wrist sore, my wrist sore
You don’t want no problems, bitch, no hiccups
No hiccups, no hiccups
He ain’t bout that drama, bitch, no hiccups
I don’t trust no one (no one!)
My wrist is lookin frozen

[Post Hook: Aminé]
Ice cold, too cold, numb
I re-e-e-e-ewind
Gave her dick and then I split (Fuck a birkin)
Workin’ like I got a shift (Puttin’ work in)
Youngest nigga poppin’ shit (Bitch I’m certain)
Don’t want no kids that’s bad as shit (Hold up, I had plans)
Had my whole life give and go (That shit right back)
24, now 24 (Yeah, it’s like that)
Diamonds on my bi-i-i-i-itch, mhm
That’s drip all on my wri-i-ist, mhm

[Verse 2: Gunna]
Diamonds on my bitch, mhm
Cuban bracelets on my wrist, mhm
You hear that we got rich, mhm
Michael Jordan for the kids, mhm
I collect it like a bridge, mhm
Copped my bitch the latest Mercedes-Benz
I was all alone, Young Gunna ain’t got no friends
We just went to the mall and spent a couple bands
I’ll talk it all and end up shakin’ hands
She offer me some pussy my finesse
My first baguettes lookin’ like some glass
Might pull the pedal tryna do the dash

[Outro: Aminé]
Mhm
Mhm
Mhm

Travis Scott – 5% TINT Lyrics

[Chorus]
Who’s that creeping through my window?
Before you come outside, I got the M4
Took her to the endzone from The Ends, though
Know I love to smoke, you love to lick more
Wanna hit the Jack, then what you call for?
All that out-your-name shit, that ain’t called for, mm

[Verse 1]
Who that creepin’? Know the tint is dark (five percent)
All that fall-in-love shit, got it Kevin Hart (yeah, yeah)
All that speed and fly shit, we might teleport, yuh (skrr, skrr)
All that cop a rack shit, I might clip a sarge, yuh (twelve)
Keep bouncin’ that ass, you just might get award, yeah
If she bad, she get a pass into the tour (passes yeah)
I pick through the family, grab the bad sister like Janet
Opps outside, don’t panic
Gotta switch, gotta change up transit
Still jump around, move antsy
And I still don’t like shit fancy
Up late feelin’ real chancy
They outside really tryna end me, yeah

[Chorus]
Who’s that creeping through my window? (my window)
Before you come outside, I got the M4 (M4)
Took her to the endzone from The Ends, though (yah)
Know I love to smoke, you love to lick more (eah)
Wanna hit the Jack, then what you call for? (yah)
All that out-your-name shit, that ain’t called for (yah)

[Verse 2]
Who the fuck is this?
Met somebody baby mama inside of the VIP
While I’m tryna tip
Shawty said she holding, got a razor in her lip
Mix my cup and twist one up, I love that ratchet shit
She like “I-I-Iced out wrist, iced out, iced out wrist” (iced out wrist)
Fuck don’t kiss, fuck, she fuck don’t kiss (mwah)
Look like friends, but she say they twins (twins)
Jump right in, there’s leg room in this Benz (leg room in this Benz)
Ten miles to the crib, you know that’s deep (deep, yeah)
I think there’s someone out there watching me, yeah

[Chorus]
Who’s that creeping through my window? (my window, who?)
Before you come outside, I got the M4 (M4)
Took her to the end zone from The Ends, though (yeah)
Know I love to smoke, you love to lick more (lick)
Wanna hit the Jack, then what you call for? (yah, Jack)
All that out your new shit, that ain’t called for (yah)

[Outro]
Who’s that creeping through my window?
Before you come outside, I got the M4
Took her to the end zone from The Ends, though
Know I love to smoke, you love to lick more

Future – WIFI LIT Lyrics

[Intro]
Zaytoven
Woah, woah, woah
Woah, woah, woah, woah

[Chorus: Future]
Gone in the sky, over 20,000
I keep my wifi lit
I spend over 5,000, that’s just on one fit
I’m not going back no more when I ain’t have shit
Pray I get a new connect, pray I get a brick

[Verse 1: Future]
I leave a bitch in the cold, oh
I don’t act poor no more
I left her sitting at the Loews, oh
‘Cause she wasn’t touching her toes, no
I’m on some rich nigga shit
It’s all about rich nigga timing
Fully loaded whip
I’m gone curve you kindness
I’m in Hermes drip, not in the store, you can’t find it
I got stacks on me and they won’t fit no wallet
I got Gucci socks on me and money in every pocket
I got Burberry seats, the color teriyaki
I’m on another wave
Cut the head off the Porsche
Running with a pack of wolves, ain’t no extorting
VIP with AK’s, very important
Always riding with a gas torch
Always riding with a mask
Young nigga playing with a pinky ring
Cost over 500 bags
Already know your homie singing, they ’bout to get him wacked
Soon as you let up, relax
That’s when they waiting to attack
Platinum majority of the plaques
Striking it off like a match

[Chorus: Future]
Gone in the sky, over 20,000
I keep my wifi lit
I spend over 5,000, that’s just on one fit
I’m not going back no more when I ain’t have shit
Pray I get a new connect, pray I get a brick

[Verse 2: Future]
You came from public housing, you serving hand to hand, oh
You got that good salmon, and smoking it fresh out the can
You know how to stir your bowl up, you know how to flip your bands
I’m bout to go take 200,000, just to go shop in Japan
I know the opps they thinking foul, we ’bout to take out they mans
We got to make some bullets shower, show you we ain’t playing
You gon’ smell this gun powder, it’s gon’ make you dance
I’ve been counting it up for hours, done cramped my hands

[Chorus: Future]
Gone in the sky, over 20,000
I keep my wifi lit
I spend over 5,000, that’s just on one fit
I’m not going back no more when I ain’t have shit
Pray I get a new connect, pray I get a brick

[Outro: Future]
Wifi lit, woah, woah, whoa
Wifi lit
Pass the bitch, woah, woah, woah
That’s an assist
Cooking grits, woah, woah, woah
Half a chicken
Fuck your clique, woah woah, woah, got them sticks
Wifi lit, wifi lit
Wifi lit
Wifi lit
Wifi lit
Wifi lit
(Auntie, auntie)
Shoutout to Lil Mexico, Kirkwood
JB, know I mean
[?], I got you
You hear me
Let’s go!