| This that shit that make you do that blicky dance
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| Got me gripping on my pants they so heavy from these bands, yo'
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| Clap it for me if you really wanna dance
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| Tell yo' shorty raise her hands
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| Know we all about them bands, yo'
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| She gon' twerk it while she do a hand stand
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| Bust my chopper like a fan, we be strumming like a banjo
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| Clap it for me if you really tryna buck
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| Got some bitches wanna fuck
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| So let’s keep the toolie tucked, yo'
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| Spanish Harlem nigga smoking on some runts
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| Smoke that big double Dutch
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| Grab some philies when it’s tough, yo'
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| Niggas always wanna run a nigga fade
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| Save the beefy shit for lunch
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| Keep the blicky case he punch, like, ew
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| I’m already rich but I need billions, ew
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| No I’m not a regular civilian, ew
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| 'Member we was in them project buildings, ew
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| Bust a bottle down with some Brazilians, ew
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| Then I took yo shorty down to Neimans
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| Marcus, I heard you was a narc, boy, you scheming
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| Fiending niggas mad the Rollie diamonds gleaning
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| But stop it you know I been that topic, we steaming
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| Hot boy, I think I’m hot, boy, I’m on the block, boy
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| 11:34 and I’m still sipping on some shots, boy, yeah
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| I ain’t mean to say I drop boys
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| No pop boys, soda pop, boy, it’s not, boy
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| Choppa pop, boy, uh, yo', it’s a Glock, boy
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| In Tokyo, I’m looking for some pussy, it’s a thot, boy
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| Lot of ex’s looking for revenge
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| This world is finna end so I don’t need no friends, but…
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| This that shit that make you do that blicky dance
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| Got me gripping on my pants they heavy from these bands, yo'
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| Clap it for me if you really wanna dance
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| Tell yo' shorty raise her hands
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| Know we all about them bands, yo'
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| Got a hundred bands stacked on a hundred bands
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| Shawty on my dick, she wanna fuck 'cause she know I’m the man
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| I need a percentage, you wanna sell some packs up in my land
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| Get a bag and then you get to fuck ho’s
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| My young niggas grimy savage, know they cut throat
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| I take yo' money and then I’m breaking down that lil' ho'
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| She on the blade, she make that Fendi, yeah, in pesos
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| I’m on the north, I’m somewhere cooling where you can’t go
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| I need a brick of white girl and that’s Alina
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| When I was in school, I was fucking under bleachers
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| Take the trip to Japan, go to Akina
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| I grew my dreads, now I’m feeling like a Rasta
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| Why that boy acting fake? |
| Yo', he impostor (Akachi in this mother fucker)
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| Copped a rollie, it cost me 'bout forty bands
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| I’ll slap a nigga even if my hand broke
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| Still that same nigga bouncing out with .44s
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| Ayy, tell that model in Boost Mobile, yeah, we trap bitch
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| Went and bought a house and some ice when I got rich
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| My lil' bitch bang the set with all her kids
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| From AOB to LA they know what it is
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| From New York to SD
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| You know how we rock
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| YBN, YRS you know how we talk
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| Flash back to been broke I was on the block
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| Now I’m nasty, but bet ya' shawty give me top
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| Ew, gross, ew |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song EW , by - Joey Trap. Song from the album Playlist for the End of the World, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп