Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Lil Arrogant, artist - IDK. Date of issue: 10.05.2018
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Lil Arrogant |
| This is what you all been waitin' for, ain’t it? |
| What people paid paper for, dammit |
| This that goin' to the gun range with the click-clack-pow aiming |
| That boy from PG but D.C. still claim him |
| And I ain’t gotta act like I’m from there, I’m real |
| Some rappers magicians, they trick you, they Copperfield |
| Act tough as a gold medal, you link 'em, they daffodil |
| Meanwhile, I’m just runnin' back kick returns on the field |
| Where the Redskins be losin' but we gon' support 'em still |
| That’s how you know where our loyalty at |
| So place a bet against me, where your royalties at? |
| I bet I leave your ass streamed of your fourteen percent |
| Then fuck on your bitch, my dick named Mutombo, I’m lit |
| I rub on her clit, she drip, then I cum on her tits |
| How common is this to spit like a fuckin' attempt? |
| I’m murderin' shit, I flip, then I leave your ass flipped |
| I flip the script, then skip to your fuckin' event |
| I take the check and dip, moments later, it’s spent |
| You take the check and shit, it’s enough for your 'rents |
| So how the fuck you telling me that I ain’t good enough, prick? |
| Ah… I think that I’m top ten, top five |
| Top three, top two, top one, and I’m still not done |
| Trump supporters' daughters love me, so I still think we won |
| She on her knees for that black thing, no Kaepernick, I copped the neck |
| Yo |
| Yo, yo |
| Badmon! |
| Uhh |
| Here’s what you been waitin' for, ain’t it? |
| (Yep) |
| It’s a portrait, if you can see the picture, paint it |
| I ain’t got to explain it, this lane, I done paved it (Right) |
| I done paid my dues, now I’m just collectin' payments (Collect) |
| One verse, that’s gon' be your whole life savings |
| If I was you, I’d be makin' funeral arrangements (True) |
| These bars, I could leave your mind in enslavement (What else?) |
| And beat you with the bar that I’m raisin', I come in, gun blazin' (Facts) |
| We gon' see who get the last laugh (Hah) |
| It’s funny 'cause these niggas always trippin' off the past (Hah) |
| Think this shit a joke until somebody get smoked |
| Choked, off the very words that they spoke |
| Listen here, though, it’s gettin' near close (Yeah, huh) |
| 'Bout to blow your brains through your fuckin' earlobes (Earlobes, um) |
| This one, the kid been gone for a while, they missed him |
| Patient with the shot, when we blast off, won’t miss him |
| Somebody gon' die tonight |
| Rappers see me but don’t say shit like they don’t have vocals |
| And they be dissin' on the socials like they don’t have Pro-Tools |
| They big you up until you’re big enough |
| I guess the love was never real, as if I really give a fuck |
| I’m already eight figures up |
| Y’all are in the minors still, I’m Willie Mays |
| Y’all still jumpin' out of bed for 50K |
| I roll back over and continue fuckin' all y’all’s favorite |
| I’m the greatest, I’m not stoppin' until all y’all say it |
| I’m courtside, closin' multi-million dollar deals |
| Then we celebrate it, eat Italian, thousand dollar meals |
| I’m in Lake Como, you stay in NoHo, the hate is promo |
| I play solo, women take photos, ride me like they play Polo |
| My crew solid, new problems, my day ones deserve two commas |
| A few dollars moves nada, we still act the same, you not a— |
| Part of the formula that put me here, so fuck you |
| When the second album drops, watch who they all run to |
| Haha |