Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Google My Name, artist - Mazerati RickyDate of issue: 05.10.2018
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Google My Name |
| Ayy |
| Hmm, hmm, hmm, ayy |
| Your baby mama 'nem gon' up if I say it’s good |
| Nigga talkin' brazy 'bout the set, we gon' take his hood |
| Life come with ups and downs, we take the good |
| Right with the bad, stuff all that shit in the wood |
| I love my city, I just hate I gotta duck the task |
| I’m in your city, want me to call for a hundred bags |
| Google my name, authorities they took a Lambo from me |
| Fired a ho, the bitch think she ran a scandal on me |
| I hit the Bay, I mind my business, smoke my apple fritter |
| A thousand dollars for this rockstar outfit nigga |
| Everybody with me got them chops, don’t doubt them niggas |
| From East Side to Oak Park, you know 'bout them niggas |
| Load a gun and roll a blunt 'cause all I want is smoke |
| You’ll never get no bread 'cause all you want is hoes |
| Skuba Steve and Mazerati leanin' off a four |
| A nigga tell another lie, we knockin' off his nose |
| Sada they hatin' blood, I do this for the sake of us |
| And I’ma only bust him if he in the way of gettin' this paper up |
| These politics’ll keep a nigga so thugged out |
| Used to cook coke 'til the smoke had me bugged out |
| From the hands of FN’s, say we can slug it out |
| Always wanted to be the realest nigga, it wasn’t no goin' out |
| And niggas showin' out, this foolie won’t get to blowin' out |
| I blow a few strips to show you niggas what I’m talkin' 'bout |
| And by the time I get to speaking, it’s already over |
| Pop up 'bout that bread, four-five my toaster |
| Chopstick got teeth like an alligator |
| Rick slide up with red beam in that Navigator, huh |
| I be tryna forget that prison time, that shit be blurry |
| I swear I love that lady said not guilty in that jury |
| Hundred Shot Nick, legendary for all them murders |
| Shooter Gang Skooba Scoops in an all black Suburban |
| I got an M16 big as my nephew |
| And your bitch got you in your feelings 'cause she just left you |
| And I just bought my bitch a chain 'cause she special |
| Still got a new Desert Eagle to knock your vest loose |
| And I’m the blood up out the streets, I’m down to slide, I chew the beef |
| Don’t fuck with slabs, I moved to P’s, I serve outside in two degrees |
| Rocky diamond jubilees, forty-ones and cuban links |
| Shoot you in the one that wink, not the one that stink |
| Money shit simple, it’s like practice to AI |
| Rich nigga, all you gotta do is say it and she gon' pay up |
| If I’m touched, I guarantee somethin' slumped for the day up |
| And rich nigga gon' call talkin' 'bout he tryna pay up |
| Divide the pie, every cake with extra layer |
| Every shooter deserve to eat, a seat at every table |
| Dibs is extra cheese and we rockin' with the mayor |
| Roll cookie in the D and we blowin' out the pound, nigga |
| No room |