Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Gas! , by - Felly. Release date: 10.06.2021
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Gas! |
| 'Sup! |
| I’m smokin' |
| Plan, Plan B is like the worst shit |
| We’re smokin' if it ain’t gas |
| I stay turned up from these raps |
| Hope that chick that be countin' my cash |
| 'Cause I ain’t too good at doin' math |
| What you know about me and my mans |
| Hope to finish safe this new jam |
| Could say Hollywood with no fans |
| Still ain’t Hollywood so let’s jam |
| This my Jam |
| Ridin' solo, I be on my own, yo |
| Feel bad for my ex |
| She see me grindin' like I’m sposed to |
| Really can’t get blamed by shit |
| But livin' out these hotels |
| I could never change my friends |
| How could I ever slow down |
| Baby |
| Gotta get my shit in order |
| Gotta get a flight 'cause she’s hittin' my line |
| And she’s headin' to Lollapalooza |
| And she just my type, took the chick I like |
| And the pick she throw the deuce up |
| Young Fell still get the booze up |
| I swear I’ll go Dr. Dolittle |
| Haircut like a young Medusa, I swear |
| Rocky rolla', Up like pop |
| Gotta keep the toes up, sippin that shot |
| Throw out the top |
| Shoutout to dun duh duh, you don’t wanna |
| Play with the stoney boy you’ll get trouble |
| Man the bays above my blood vessels |
| Move to LA got cold as gun metal |
| Lately I’ve been in and out of dinner with the pressure |
| Found it kind of funny 'cause she couldn’t get no better |
| Stuff a couple hundred in the pockets of my denim |
| Makin' shit up (pop, pop) be on schedule |
| Really want my pieces, peace, and John Lennon |
| Movin' through the streets in premium raw denim |
| Said I wouldn’t do it but I had to do it better |
| Under the influence it’s somethin' in the ghetto |
| Girl it’s Saint Louis and nobody does it better |
| Want to be exclusive but I told her I got hella |
| From the truth |
| Searchin' for that shit |
| Worry 'bout the future, yeah |
| Livin' to passive, like forget right now |
| Gotta think of where I’m goin when I finish |
| All up in your brand new linens |
| I could’ve been a cop killa high up with the sinners |
| I should’ve been a dentist |
| I’m goin' back to Texas |
| Gotta gettin' my shit in order |
| Gotta get my shit in order |
| Gotta get a flight 'cause she’s hittin' my line |
| And she’s headin' to Lollapalooza |
| And she just my type, took the chick I like |
| Yeah, yeah and I fuckin love her |
| So I’ll see you tomorrow |
| Yeah swear Ima see you tomorrow |
| I swear |