Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song I'm Still, artist - DJ Khaled. Date of issue: 31.12.2012
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Cash Money
Song language: English
I'm Still |
| I know a lot of niggas in here prolly hate me right now |
| But I’ll drink to that, I’ll drink to that |
| That ain’t gon' change a thing (nooo) |
| Still gon' do my thing |
| I’m still yeah yeah |
| Still gon' go and get mine |
| Still gon' keep on winnin |
| Still gon' keep it one hunnid every time |
| (I'm still) I’m still eating when them niggas throw shots |
| (I'm still) I’m still still gon' end up on top |
| I’m still |
| (Pussy ass niggas stop hating) |
| Ralph, Uh |
| Niggas be women like hoes be women |
| Look at me close, there is no sympathy |
| Those with envy be throwing subliminal «es |
| I’d rather them warring with me |
| If only I hate them (word), like Tony Montana, except, no Manolo |
| She love me for another cuelo (word) |
| These dudes is snakes these women is vultures |
| Who am I to trust, who gon' ride for me |
| Who gon' light somebody’s body up when I be like «Yup», they squeeze |
| Comfortably (ohh), and that new custom piece |
| My Tisci t-shirt a couple of G’s |
| I talked to a bunch of G’s just like a frozen tundra speech |
| And the Lambo feel what a real nigga doin 110 skrr in it, yeah |
| And the world so ill when the boy get funny over money or a girl on ya, uh |
| Let it marinate, uh, what, let me correlate, uh, let them niggas hate |
| But never ever let a women tell a nigga «Wait"' uh, swag |
| Most of these niggas ain’t raw most of these ain’t poppin' (ain't poppin') |
| Most of these niggas ain’t balling most of these niggas they starving |
| Talking cars and, what the fuck |
| They don’t even got em |
| So high don’t see no problems |
| Bitch I’m on them trees like Tarzan |
| Aw man (aw man), I want all my cheese like Robin |
| Shrimp or calamari I’m a young nigga with options |
| Mm, and you close but you ain’t close enough |
| In the VIP call me the poster child from posting up |
| Top floor suite we going up; |
| D.A.F. |
| I’m dope as fuck |
| Woo, hundred bottles comin' that mean a hundred bottles gettin' opened up |
| Rolex face all frozen expect ya’ll to hate you ain’t supposed to love it |
| She backing up, like a Tonka truck |
| Fuck boy, I kept it real, came up |
| Wake up, feeling blessed, pockets full, no stress |
| At the shop, we the best |
| Cutting checks, eating good |
| Loving life, projects all night |
| (I'm still) I’m still gon' shine bright in that limelight |
| Ok now it’s no more Mr. nice guy |
| If you niggas couldn’t see me in the day time |
| Girl you got a better chance getting a day job |
| Your career wouldn’t blow away the napalm (boom) |
| Silly motherfucka, who knows how to win the game on the buzzer |
| I’m the type to make a whole lot of money |
| Buy a whole new crib cus I’m bored as a mother |
| And it’s still fuck hater |
| Still gon' ball like Kobe from the Lakers |
| Still we the best, and it’s still hood nation |
| And I’m still gonna smoke even if I’m on papers |