Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Tell Them MF's We Made It, artist - Crooked I. Album song Apex Predator, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 29.07.2013
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Treacherous C.O.B
Song language: English
Tell Them MF's We Made It |
Now what the hell should I care about, nothing |
I’m Paramount, fuck it bring the Maclaren out |
She gets sky miles the way I air 'em out |
French connection, I Paris my whereabouts |
You still in your parents' house |
I’m with a vixen hard nipples and the cherry blouse |
No pants derriere is out |
I call it honeymoon without the marriage vows |
I fuck with some street killers and D dealers |
We out to market everything, even 3 wheelers |
I fuck with some blunt smokers and E-pillers |
You don’t like us, so what, the freaks feel us |
Onion booty and some yoga pants |
She got that 'won't you come bend me over stance |
I got paper and she over stamps |
I got a message for the haters man |
Tell them muhfuckas we made it |
Live good, still hood |
Grind hard like a real nigga should |
1hunnid, stay true |
Let 'em know, tell them muhfuckas we made it |
Yeah, tell them muhfuckas we made it |
Johnny Blue, tell them muhfuckas we faded |
Middle finger you and them mothafuckas who hate it |
Still sleeping on us, leave them suckas sedated |
By the time they wake up, probably flying to Jamaica |
On my birthday gettin' my cake up |
You dudes Hollywood, say what? |
I call you virtual sex, you fake fucks |
I don’t think you want a problem |
I’m Andy Warhol and on boardwalk |
I’m awesome when I draw guns |
Be somewhere in Boston when the law come |
With a bad bitch and she know it’s pimpin' |
Her accent is like Lois Griffin |
The Lord’s prayer over roasted chicken |
Some red wine, let’s toast to livin' |
Breaking news, we making moves |
You new niggas listen, pay your dues |
Don’t be a dive artist, or you play to lose |
Kick you while you down, in my favorite shoes |
Box me, you need a drug test |
Box full of shells, let’s have a slug fest |
Then I tell your ho put on her fuck dress |
Give me brains for fame, that’s success |
The best revenge and this is murder now |
You talk behind my back and I ain’t even turn around |
Ants to a giant, I ain’t even heard a sound |
Attitude up, I ain’t finna turn it down |
VH1 bitch in a black Carerra |
Gettin' Viacom pussy in this ratchet era |
Fuck her weave up and her black mascara |
Then pass by my haters blowin' Jack Herera |