Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Wifey vs. WiFi / / / P.M.S., artist - Ab-Soul. Album song Do What Thou Wilt., in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 08.12.2016
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Top Dawg Entertainment
Song language: English
Wifey vs. WiFi / / / P.M.S. |
Man, I hate quotin' Jay Z, but cuz just too tight |
Is he a Blood? |
Is he Crip? |
Is he that? |
Is he this? |
Will he do it? |
You know, it! |
Now every time I say «it» it’s in reference to my dick |
You can suck it if you want to |
Every time I say «it» it’s in reference to my dick |
And you can suck it, motherfuckin' bitch! |
Listen, bitch! |
When it’s in you the sentiment is incredible |
Winter fresh even, I even undress your winter clothes |
When it’s out, instead of worryin' about where it’s at |
You’d rather rack your cap |
About where it’s goin' or where it’s been |
Where are we goin'? |
I’m beginning to see an end |
Don’t bring Larry King in this |
Sniff the evidence on my clothes and go through my cell phone |
And now I’m in jail for leavin' out a few details, oh well |
It’s wifey or WiFi (Ayy!) |
Wifey or WiFi (Ayy!) wifey or WiFi |
Got some niggas in the pen that really gotta face time |
She just bitching ‘cause I missed her FaceTime |
It’s wifey or WiFi (Ayy!) |
Wifey or WiFi (Ayy!) wifey or WiFi |
Got some niggas really havin' issues in the cell |
She just bitching ‘cause them other bitches in my cell |
Oh well, oh well |
I guess she wanna go to war then |
I guess we should warn the warden |
Oh well, oh well |
Alright, I want you to tweet me right now |
If you’re using your third iPhone |
It’s wifey or WiFi, wifey or WiFi |
Wifey or WiFi, hey, hey |
It’s wifey or WiFi, wifey or WiFi |
Wifey or WiFi, oh well, oh well |
Oh well, oh well |
Oh, I hit you with the hash back |
Ayy, my nigga lil' Riley got into it with his mommy |
They be fightin' all the time, so I ain’t pay it no mind |
He said: «God, she could really be the Devil,» I said «Chill!» |
He smacked his teeth |
And shook his head and said «No, for real! |
You know I love her, but she could really be a pain in the ass |
Matter fact, fuck that! |
Pull out your jack real fast! |
Real shit, my nigga, now glance at the keypad |
This that mind-bogglin' shit you like to throw in your raps |
And this might be your best yet; |
notice how every number |
Represents three letters of the alphabet |
Like, 2 is A-B-C, 3 is D-E-F |
4 is G-H-I,» I said: «I get it, alright!» |
He said: «Now trip off this, listen to me, Soul |
I know you off the shits, but I’ma need you to get a grip.» |
I said: «Be serious,» he said «Dial M-O-M.» |
What a hella coincidence! |
It was 6−6- |
Pt. |
II: P.M.S |
All because of this penitentiary mind state, is it my fate? |
For God’s sakes, why did I have to lose the case? |
I kept it real, and I ain’t never been fake |
I’m feelin' like Biggie when he lost Faith |
See, this penitentiary mind state, is it my fate? |
For God’s sakes, why did I have to lose the case? |
I kept it real, and I ain’t never been fake |
I’m feelin' like Biggie when he lost Faith |
Look, there’s sixty seconds left, I’ma have to get back later |
Your boy chasin' this penitentiary paper |
Tell my momma stay on point |
Your phone hit her on three-way |
Then, fuck it, I’ma hit her on that other joint |
First term, nigga, but I did it like a vet |
Hung up the phone, and when I asked: «Who had next?» |
It was one of the lifers, all nest with no neck |
Gotta stay with my striker, no nigga is no threat |
I swipe my knife on the under |
But I can still hear it in my head |
When he said: «That's right, youngster |
Just stay focused, sleep with your hands open |
Beat 'em with a long-handled spoon |
When you deal with smokers.» |
I sag low when I walk the yard, hold my head high |
Yaddada to them Bay niggas; |
me, I’m from the Westside |
Lookin' for a gram to steal, ‘cause I’m tryin' to get high |
Thinkin' about my fake-ass bitch on the outside |
Out of sight, out of mind, shit, I don’t mind |
Long as a nigga make the paper when he doin' time |
Right, look… fuck it, I’m lyin', I’m just really tryin' to hold out |
Thought of some trick runnin' dick in my bitch mouth |
My penitentiary mind state, is it my fate? |
For God’s sakes, why did I have to lose the case? |
I kept it real, and I ain’t never been fake |
I’m feelin' like Biggie when he lost Faith |
Look, look, hold up, hold up! |