Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Million Dollar Mansion, artist - Lil Keed. Album song Long Live Mexico, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 13.06.2019
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: 300 Entertainment, Young Stoner Life
Song language: English
Million Dollar Mansion |
Yeah |
Yeah, yeah, yeah |
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah |
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah |
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah |
Yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah |
Woo |
They think they all fly (Yeah), we a different fly (Yeah) |
Yeah, we private flight it (Yeah), no need for autopilot (Yeah) |
Know we get the highest (Yeah), know y’all all dyin' (Yeah) |
Lift the doors up (Yeah), my wrist is froze up (Yeah) |
My neck get colder (Yeah), thought I told ya (Yeah) |
We in the fast lane (Yeah) |
In a Hellcat (Yeah), or in a Mulsanne (Yeah) |
If he bounce back (Yeah), a hundred shots ring (Yeah) |
Ain’t got no dogtag (Yeah), how you gangbang? |
(Yeah) |
He not 'bout that (Yeah), he ain’t insane (Yeah) |
Give him thirty shots (Yeah), shoot him Curry range (Yeah) |
Finger flooded (Yeah), cost more than Audi rings (Yeah) |
Yeah, we bossy (Yeah), shit be saucy (Yeah) |
Costy |
You said you want a wedding ring, that’s when you lost me (Lost me) |
Go big on big, I’m irritated with your mouthpiece |
I drove a G6, took three bands to the nosebleeds (Skrrt) |
Yeah, I’m her boss, see, see I’m so flossy |
Lil' mama said she want a Benz with the Rolls seats (Want a Benz) |
I took a helicopter down to the show freak |
I told her private jet, we goin' shoppin' overseas |
I can go brazy like a shotta, ayy (Brazy like a) |
I got some Mansions on the Southside, ayy (I got some mansions on the South) |
I’m servin' chicken, but not Popeyes, ayy (I'm servin' chicken, but not Pop') |
Pay the tuition, not a shotta, ayy (Pay the tuition, not a shotta) |
I told lil' mama, «Bitch, it’s our time,"ayy (Our time) |
We got the juice, we got the Wi-Fi, ayy (Wi-Fi) |
We fuckin' on top our Carter, hey |
I just might pass her to my brothers, hey (Just might pass her to my brothers) |
Hundred bands on a seat (Hundred) |
How the fuck I make a half a million in a week? |
(How? How? How?) |
Yeah, shawty suck me out my sleep |
I don’t know just how the hell I woke up with a freak (How? How?) |
Goddamn, I got millions with no piece (Damn) |
Different bustdown every fuckin' day of the week (Fuckin' day of the week) |
Livin' easy breezy, we fuck on designer sheets (Woo) |
I had me some Henny with my Act', now I’m deceased (I'm deceased, nigga) |
Million dollar nig', whip a Maybach out of town (Skrrt, skrrt) |
Patek worth a mink, up in the Benz right now (Skrrt, skrrt) |
Keep designer kicks on my bitch all the time (Skrrt, skrrt) |
Paris Hilton mansion in the hills, I see stars (Skrrt, skrrt) |
Abercrombie birds with the doves, we get money (Skrrt, skrrt) |
Lambo' hit the curb, when it dark, it look sunny (Skrrt, skrrt) |
I put neon lights in the penthouse for my mommy (Skrrt, skrrt) |
Wake up, take a piss, drink a seal every morning |
Spendin' all these goddamn funds |
I just put some slimes and some bands on your son |
Choker shackles outshine the goddamn sun |
John Wick shooters, we not scared of James Bond (Woo) |
Talkin' game to get out her panties |
Different Chanel, different occasions |
I got hood ratchet shit and she Asian |
Whippin' slime Lam' truck, it’s Caucasian |
Yeah, her cat Tigger |
She got damn whiskers |
Her ass soft as pillows |
Give her nut like brittle |
Louis duffle bag, F&N and bands in it |
Yeah, I wore it, left the tag on my expensive drip |
She not talkin' bad, I go pimp and pop them lips |
Oh yeah, oh yeah, oh yeah |
Oh, oh, oh |