Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Pink 10s, artist - Babyface Ray.
Date of issue: 13.05.2021
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Pink 10s |
Coach me Joey |
Yeah, yeah, yeah, what up Babyface? |
Yeah |
Yeah, fifty-five hundred |
(I feel amazing) |
Big general |
Ayy, pink 10s, bring a friend, Burberry peacoat, wheat Timbs (Look) |
Thinking back to '08, street spins |
I done got grown now, fuck rims (Fuck 'em) |
Condo big enough to put a home in (Boy) |
Girl that pussy good enough to make the song, yeah (Ooh) |
Perky got us fuckin' like we on the slow jam (Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah) |
'Member I was fucked up so I hit the road then |
Nigga go and get it, you know I don’t hold hands |
What’s a grown man? |
Know I ain’t going broke like Joc, bitch it’s going down (Down) |
Know I’ma need a stick, ma I’m sorry, I can’t cut no rock |
Ghost is outside of the mansion, it’s a haunted house (What) |
Tell 'em I need a dime or I ain’t coming out (I ain’t coming out) |
Know how you met the plug 'cause he ain’t running out (Fuck) |
I went inside the club and made a money pile |
When money on they head, the gunners run 'em down |
Hit 'em up and go head and pull up, I got the money now, yeah |
Just let the counter run it, love the money sound |
Hand cock that shit in they face Ray, they actin' funny style, yeah |
Went through the money counter, let me thumb it now |
Yeah, yeah, yeah |
She drunk in love and I don’t even drink, wintertime mink |
Soul snatchin', man that bitch a thief, she done stole me |
If it ain’t money, it don’t move me, that’s the whole thang (That's the whole |
thang) |
Bitch I’m with the winning circle, we a gold ring (We a) |
Gold bottles, gold chains, feel like Master P (Uh) |
No limit to this shit so what you saying to me? |
(What you saying?) |
I seen my favorite rapper, he a fan of me (Fan) |
I’m blowing through Miami in an AMG |
Yeah I rap, but brody play the keys, make lil mama sing |
Niggas lame, they just got some money, you should fuck with me |
I want a better life for the fam, niggas wanna beef |
Still on the 'Gram, I done hit every one of these (Everyone) |
Countin' for everybody, break the lease |
Run the streets like dope boys, I got coppers chasing me |
Yeah it’s killers and robbers in the function, they with me |
I touched down, got it sold, in the morning I’ma leave |
See it’s tragic, said they got a hundred on E (A hundred on E) |
I was laughing all in traffic, out in Cali, in a sleeve |
I was fresh out of my teens with a hundred-fifty piece |
Fuck I look like signing for a hundred-fifty G’s? |
(The fuck I look like?) |
Listening to rappers, wasn’t much I couldn’t believe (Nothing I couldn’t |
believe) |
I ain’t into rap beef, and it’s an issue, drop the cheese |
I’ma hit her til she knock kneed off these RP’s |
We at top speed, who pulling over? |
Not me (Skrrt, skrrt) |
We gon' high speed, opps bleed, get you Swiss cheese’d |
Feel like eight bands, pocket full of pre-bag grams |
Look like Wheat Thins, black tar, whipped with Mannitol |
Make the H tan, niggas broke living in the past, they can’t think ahead |
Opps slid through the block and never slide again (And never slide again) |
I don’t send shots on Instagram, I shoot at nigga’s friends (Shoot at nigga’s |
friends) |
Geesky put the city in a twist, he tryna make a dread |
I’ma put some titties on that bitch and make an OnlyFans |
We at yo' mans and you jumped in and made a package deal, rich before my rapper |
deal |
Blue bands, this shit like a loose ten, I’m a made man |
And I ain’t gotta move another gram, on my mama |
Fifty-five hundred, EST Gee |
Big boss, pink 10, blue bands, you know wassup |
Big G nigga |