Lyrics Numbers Don't Lie - Larry June

Numbers Don't Lie

Aye baby, hand me some green tea?
Check, good job
You’re doing good, bitch
Mmm, scrumptious!
Check, numbers
Aye aye aye
Bruce Wayne coupe, if I need we can get away
Fake niggas hate it when I rap, they feel some type of way
«June ain’t really 'bout that life"that's what they like to say
«He had that song Glock 40 but that was way back in the day»
Instead of pillow talking to the bitch, you should find a way to make it off
your mama couch and go and get some real K
You stuck in a record deal, I’m working on my seventh tape
And I own my masters lil' nigga, better get it straight
Merchandise crackin' off the dribble, had to make it shake
Niggas sell they soul for 100K, to me that’s crazy
Then drop 50 on a chain, that’s a damn shame
I see you got the Jays, but your son ain’t ate in days
Soft ass nigga, got the bitch on a fuckin' leash
Me, I’m lookin' at the 2020 while I smoke keesh
Touch down in ATL, lookin' for a Georgia peach
Taking pictures of my 'Vette but really I ain’t drove in weeks
I don’t got a million dollars yet but give me two weeks
OT, two free, just me, nigga yee
Dre touched down, now I’m looking at some real estate
Gotta put this money somewhere besides the fuckin' bank
Everything got a price tag, how much you tryna pay?
If you think you know everything, how you gon' elevate?
Bucket hat, dark shades, seven dollar lemonade
Make no excuses, go hard until your money straight
Almost bought a vintage 911 just the other day
Pap' pulled up, white fox, he was tryna race (numbers)
Should I keep going to be stoppin' but it’s goin' crazy
They like «goddamn nigga, didn’t you just drop a tape?»
I ain’t go platinum just yet but I got faith
Just a white tee and a chain but I got taste
They like «damn June, didn’t them Nikes drop in '88?»
(Aye aye aye, aye aye aye)