Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song G Lollipops , by - Murs. Release date: 15.03.2018
Song language: English
G Lollipops |
| Gangsta ass lollipops |
| Your bitch got a sweet tooth |
| I make art, y’all niggas make hits |
| I make music from the heart and what you make is shit |
| Softer than the couch, step up, get knocked out |
| Poppin' bottles in the club, I’m just chillin' at the house |
| Playin' war games with 4 dames in your name |
| Don’t get high, stay fly and inside your lane |
| Tame as a derriere but it gets scarier |
| When you try to test the best in your area |
| Aerial attacks and burials and wax |
| Like an Annabelle tale, but scarier in fact |
| Where the rappers at? |
| Where the rappers at? |
| They told me real rap is dead, I had to laugh at that |
| How is it dead if Wu-Tang's Forever? |
| Better than the worst but Murs is still better |
| The Leroy and Bruce, I deployed the troops |
| The devil is a liar but these boys the truth |
| Gangsta ass lollipops |
| Your bitch got a sweet tooth |
| Okay I gave her a cavity, you hate that it had to be |
| Regal Rhymesayer, Mister Laver, your majesty |
| Lettin' my nuts hang like Tiffany Haddish weave |
| While y’all toss salad, anything for a salary |
| You call it a triumph, I call it a tragedy |
| Casually I turn competition to casualties |
| Converse with my rollo, I call him Murcielago |
| One thing I’m certain if it hurtin' 'em I know |
| I’m an introvert, a street kid, was never into Vert |
| I’d rather pen a verse, some call it audacity |
| Where did he get the nerve, usin' no blackberry |
| Nigga, you gettin' curved by labels and hoes |
| Layaway on your clothes, another day I suppose |
| You portrayin' a rose, I would say you a troll |
| And it’s takin' his toll by the way human go |
| I can’t give a F-U-C-K what he sold |
| It’s Fash |
| Gangsta ass lollipops |
| Your bitch got a sweet tooth |
| I’m in the 4-door Ford escort |
| With 4 escorts with high test scores |
| Indoor dro grown next door |
| In class with them hickey neck sores |
| That’s too much sauce, that’s too much sauce |
| Had to turn to Pookie, «Baby, that’s too much sauce» |
| As far as I’m concerned, I don’t fuck with the list price |
| Rappers these days ain’t been in a fist fight |
| You never know homie, I could be a fraud |
| This atheist chick I’m fuckin', she treat me like a god |
| I’m poppin' pills in the VIP all day |
| I’m an industry plant, I’m just playin' the long game |
| Bitch never wrote a rhyme in my life |
| And after the club, I’ma break your wife’s hymen tonight |
| Shot a couple dudes for a career in rap |
| Turn up, turn up, fleek, fleek, bruh how real was that? |
| Pookie |
| Gangsta ass lollipops |
| Your bitch got a sweet tooth |