Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Black Excellence, artist - Philthy Rich. Date of issue: 22.11.2018
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Black Excellence |
| Yeah, it’s Philthy, nigga |
| Uh-huh |
| I go by the name of ALLBLACK, all caps, one word |
| Thank you |
| Look |
| Hottest niggas from the East, ALLBLACK and Philth' (Swear to God) |
| Asian plug on the Tech, tryna crack a seal (Syrup) |
| Free Jakori Smith, original STI (Ayy, free my nigga) |
| Five-nine on my neck, call me 25 (Bust down) |
| Rest in peace Jimmy Wopo, gotta keep the wop, though (You know I do) |
| Hundred bitches in the stable like I run the brothel (A hundred of 'em) |
| Exclusive game in Atlanta for this custom drip (Designer) |
| Angola facin' life, free my brother Dip (It's Philthy) |
| Tell Dream Doll I had a wet dream about her (Ayy, tell that bitch) |
| No pistols in my pics but never seen without it (I keep it on me) |
| Ain’t a nigga in the Bay, whole team icy (Uh-uh) |
| Man, them niggas in the way, it really seem like it (Suckers) |
| Ask your bitch where I’m from, I bet she tell you nigga (Seminary) |
| I left this dick on her tongue, oh she ain’t tell you, nigga? |
| (Oh she ain’t |
| tell?) |
| They always want to hold you to a higher standard (Is that right?) |
| And if you make it where I’m from, them niggas can’t stand you (Philth') |
| My ex-bitch watchin' all my IG snaps (Bitch) |
| I called her from a blocked number and told her, «Relax» (Hello?) |
| When I shout niggas out, they bring it up in court (Is that right?) |
| Point guard on my team, I bring it up the court (Funk Or Die) |
| I took a pay cut so I could win later (Double back) |
| Niggas showin' fake love because they real haters (Pussy) |
| Niggas think it’s rap beef until they get whacked (Ayy, do that) |
| Let you niggas kill yourself off and sit back |
| Put your motherfuckin' hands down |
| 'Fore I get mad and start ping-pong slappin' you around |
| Talkin' all this big cash, yet scrapin' up nickels |
| When all you got left is change in a jar that hold pickels |
| Molly and a whole fifth of that dog, upgraded my mental |
| Strap on his face like a teenager with thirty pimples |
| Smash, I got that Glock in the rental |
| Freeway skit on A-80, had to exit on Whipple |
| Runnin' for miles, call me Forrest, but I’m not crippled |
| It’s a moon roof in that Range, they keep turnin' up |
| Big dice game on Twado carpet, watch me clean it up |
| Four ounce of that tan in that duffle, that’s twelve thousand bucks |
| Lost it all on the dice, I walked home that night |
| Finna rob the hood truck, I ain’t finna think twice |
| Eighty round spit out this fully, disconnect your life |
| And I’ll still knock your bitch with no ice |
| Ain’t even run a whole lap and they already spooked |
| Thought I was done, I came out speakin' pure facts off the tooth |
| Talkin' guns but won’t ever shoot |
| I bet a dub, you hit Foothill, we gon' flip a coupe |
| Everybody say I changed and switched lanes, just for show I did |
| I can’t hang around no lames simpin' to a bitch |
| Fuck Instagram, pull up on me, we can get it in |
| Keep runnin' from me, I’ma pull up at your mama’s crib |