Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Calling , by - GRM Daily. Release date: 23.11.2017
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Calling |
| Yo, yo, yo, yo |
| Ayy, yo |
| Ayy, yo |
| That’s the money calling me, ayy, yo |
| The haters onto me, ayy, yo |
| But I’ll bet the drum go off, ayy, yo |
| I know them boy dem soft, ay, yo |
| I’m so fly like Wayne Carter |
| Tell dem boy dere I’m their farda |
| Your boy clipping your baby mudda |
| That one’s a say nada, we got the gully Gaza |
| I tell them man park up |
| Don’t stall, the ting will spark up |
| Yo, I’ve got the .38 tucked |
| Don’t move or the ting will bust yeah, yeah |
| 'Cause ayy, they don’t wanna play no games |
| Rolling with the .38, them niggas won’t come my way |
| Ayy, they don’t wanna play no games |
| Rolling with the .38, them niggas won’t come my way |
| That’s the money calling me, ayy, yo |
| The haters onto me, ayy, yo |
| But I’ll bet the drum go off, ayy, yo |
| I know them boy dem soft, ay, yo |
| Chippy, yo, got the weed and blem |
| Judge, I’ve got me, I don’t need no leng |
| Get real money, that’s G-R-M |
| Redline true spitters from I dislike them |
| All fake friends fi get bun |
| See you flex online and wan' come |
| If they don’t support when you’re grinding |
| Don’t ever let 'em 'round when you shining |
| Red leather seat, but mi gone again |
| Get pussy automatic, girl not stall again |
| See, my life, might book a flight last night |
| By morn, money call so mi gone again, see |
| Too much sauce for dem |
| Just a pree, dem a pree, me nuh know wamp to dem |
| Chippy on a verse, too cold like (brr) |
| But (brr), that’s the money call again, see |
| That’s the money calling me, ayy, yo |
| The haters onto me, ayy, yo |
| But I’ll bet the drum go off, ayy, yo |
| I know them boy dem soft, ay, yo |
| Like oh wow |
| Man I’m smoking this green, it’s so loud |
| And the damn packs are sold out |
| How you, running these streets with no clout? |
| Yo |
| Like oh my |
| Man, it’s Kojo Funds from the East side |
| Two loaded waps when we ride |
| Man, I’m high in the sky, I’m so fly like a kite |
| My heart’s cold, it’s blatant |
| Grew up in these streets, these pavements |
| I’m still running from Satan |
| But these boys still act the same |
| It’s blatant |
| Grew up in these streets, these pavements |
| I’m still running from Satan |
| But these boys still act the same |
| That’s the money calling me, ayy, yo |
| The haters onto me, ayy, yo |
| But I’ll bet the drum go off, ayy, yo |
| I know them boy dem soft, ay, yo |
| Ayy, yo |
| Ayy, yo |
| Ayy, yo |
| Ayy, yo |