Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Crush A Lot, artist - Lil Baby. Album song Street Gossip, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 29.11.2018
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Quality Control
Song language: English
Crush A Lot |
I can’t fuck with shawty, no she didn’t tell |
Trim shit she look like Draya Michele |
I been goin' crazy givin' them hell |
She ain’t tryin' to go with me I’ma pay her |
I crush a lot, baby girl I’ma player |
Connect the dots then I plug up the scale |
If we get caught they gon' give me the chair |
Fuck the law, make them earn what they pay 'em |
Ain’t no back and forth with no bitches intended |
Rolls Royce truck, bitch it ain’t rented |
And they braggin' about bitches I’m probably hit ‘em |
I’ve flooded my wrist, let the bros split a million |
At this point I’m heartless, I ain’t got no feelings |
But every building in the hood for my children |
Like a Drake song, got your vibe feelin' groovy |
With no phone we can make us a movie |
I ain’t in my bag, I still got my feet out |
If we want to smoke with y’all, you can be out |
Free the bros, buy my shit out the kiosk |
I’m at the VIE with a spot just to creep out |
Lil' shawty suck it like she just took her teeth out |
5% tint on the whip you can’t see out of it |
Ready to 'Set It Off', Queen Latifah |
These niggas talk like bitches, see what they be ‘bout |
I can’t fuck with shawty, no she didn’t tell |
Trim shit she look like Draya Michele |
I been goin' crazy givin' them hell |
She ain’t tryin' to go with me I’ma pay her |
I crush a lot, baby girl I’ma player |
Connect the dots then I plug up the scale |
If we get caught they gon' give me the chair |
Fuck the law, make them earn what they pay 'em |
Ain’t no complainin', the money coming in |
Put it all up, do it all again |
First you get a mil', then it’s times ten |
Youngest out the crew, AMG Benz |
Stand up like a man, take it on the chin |
They got consequences in this life of sin |
Laugh about it, go in Gucci, spend a ten |
When you come home, we gon' all win |
Goin' in the club and make it thunderstorm |
This shit reckless, he gon' knock you off with his Rollie on |
Drive the Rolls Royce like a hotbox, really came from nothin' |
Only ride with my security because I can’t be armed |
Can’t get caught with another gun |
They gon' know me when I’m gone |
Hear my pain inside my songs |
It’s like a switch, I cut it off |
Pills kick in, gettin' in my zone |
Do my job and sing along |
I’m never talkin' on them phones |
Feds gon' try to do us wrong |
They ain’t got my nigga long |
Lately I just been alone |
My cup, my strap, this microphone |
Nobody know what’s goin' on |
I’m glad I made it off the road |
Granddaddy showed me life is a gamble |
Ever since I’ve been rolling dice |
They gon' suck it up like a bowl of rice |
I’ma give it to them niggas every time |
I can’t fuck with shawty, no she didn’t tell |
Trim shit she look like Draya Michele |
I been goin' crazy givin' them hell |
She ain’t tryin' to go with me I’ma pay her |
I crush a lot, baby girl I’ma player |
Connect the dots then I plug up the scale |
If we get caught they gon' give me the chair |
Fuck the law, make them earn what they pay 'em |