| She wanna dope boy, dope, dope boy
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| She wanna dope boy, dope, dope boy
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| She wanna dope boy, dope, dope boy
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| Hey yo, big Bern', what’s good?
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| We ain’t get up in these hills by accident, nigga
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| Lotta niggas talkin' it but ain’t livin', man
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| But we ain’t got nothin' to talk about
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| We see everything, nigga
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| Meet me at the dock, we gon' race for Yachts, nigga
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| Water wave
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| you move better, you do better (facts)
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| Dipset
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| (Kill, kill)
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| (Kill, kill)
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| Let’s go, uhh
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| I get to it, see I’m not the one to lollygag, body bag
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| You gettin' money, word? |
| Take a polygraph
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| I don’t believe you, the cars ain’t matchin' your stories
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| All startin' to bore me, I’m in the clutch like Horry
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| I was clickin' chicken and had the season like Lawry’s
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| You still sellin' three-point-five for the forty?
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| Please, outlet call me Felipe
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| Keys of courtesy of Enrique, my
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| That means Killa turned nerds into guerrillas
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| Turn wave right into skrilla, cocaine to chinchilla (yeah, I did)
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| I’ve retired but sometimes its still a hobby
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| You only drugged someone when you was on your Bill Cosby
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| Nigga
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| The ex made a million of a job
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| Wrapped it up and let it sit behind the sheet rock
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| Black bag bandits
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| I’m runnin' through these M’s
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| I’m sick from the dust, I’m naucious
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| These rubber bands around these twenties all stuck (it's old money)
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| I could fit a hunnid fifty boxes on the truck
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| Yeah, that’s forty-five plus if it get there untouched (forty-five mil')
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| Pick me up from when the jet lands
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| Black bags in my Louis bag fresh from San Fran' (straight from the Bay)
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| What’s a ticket? |
| Stop askin'
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| All three trucks pulled up, I’m try’na bring back Branson (what up, legend?)
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| Bust down dancin', never been platinum
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| No gold plaques but I got a gold handgun (handgun)
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| I used to lose boxes and struggled 'til I land one
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| Fuck it, send a half ton
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| I swear this is my last one
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| Yeah
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| She want a dope nigga that do numbers
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| She want a dope nigga that do numbers
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| She want a dope nigga that do numbers (facts)
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| She want a dope nigga that do numbers
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| She want a dope boy, told her I’m a dope man
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| Foreign cars I love those, whippin' 'em with both hands
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| Waitin' for the pack to touch, lookin' for the postman
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| We was in momma’s hut cookin' up the coke grams
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| Trips to the Bay comin' back with the load
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| Niggas from our gang, you know the mac will explode
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| If it wasn’t for the rap, I’d probably trap across the globe
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| These niggas say they gangsters, a star stackin' on the code
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| Had my '97's on runnin' through the housin'
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| We was still sellin' drugs through the early 2000's
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| I drop a few thousands on water and the peace
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| Ain’t nobody ridin' shotty, just my forty in the seat
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| She want a dope nigga that do numbers
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| She want a dope nigga that do numbers
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| She want a dope nigga that do numbers
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| She want a dope nigga that do numbers |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Dope Boy , by - Berner. Song from the album RICO, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп