| Yeah, ayy, bitch
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| What’s up with that motherfucking mouth?
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| On God, look
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| Ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy, ayy
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| (Helluva made this beat, baby)
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| Usually do a white Benz, but this black one
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| Got a bad bitch with a fat one
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| She like bitches more than me
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| So on Fridays, we do captions
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| She like Uzis, not MAC-10's
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| She like Mac Dre, I like Andre
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| I’ma ball hard like DeAndre
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| Need a paycheck like Beyoncé
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| Not tryna be your fiancé
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| My sister’s boyfriend lightskinned, his name Keyonte
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| Told him if he hurt her, I’ma hurt him, on my papa (That's on pops)
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| Pull up to his mama house with that big chopper (Brrah)
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| Ayy, forty racks to put that jet in the air (Let's get it)
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| I’m like fuck it, let me go up on the Snap since I’m here (Turn up)
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| Put that on my daddy grave, ain’t no man that I fear (No)
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| I ain’t talking, when I say, «Clap at his hair» (Go get it)
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| Niggas showing their true colors, get my Clorox (Get my bleach)
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| Your favorite rapper chain always in and out the pawn shop (He fucked up)
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| Fat nigga, make a nigga bitch cook some pork chops
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| I used to hear shots, now I ain’t gotta keep my doors locked (We in the 'burbs
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| with it)
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| With they baby mama only time they acting tough (Boy, you a bitch)
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| Heard I had a shootout, ain’t nobody died, wasn’t us
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| Can’t reach, say you want about them Glock 9's (Baow)
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| Even if it’s slippery, can’t let an opp slide (Never)
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| In a foreign, yeah, that shit with the frog eyes
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| Bad bitch, on the 'net she be doggin' guys
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| I’ma dog that bitch like some leftovers
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| In a big boy house, call the chef over, bro whip a Range Rover, huh
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| Look like a lick to say the least
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| Fifteen thousand on a fleece, blue and red like police
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| Got a bad bitch with a ten year old son, damn
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| Nigga half a nigga age, buy a PlayStation
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| Put him to the side, fuck his mama in the back
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| Bend her over, hold her mouth
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| Told her, «Take it like a real bitch,» then she went south
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| Sucking dick like a pro (Like a pro)
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| Swallow nut like a taste tester on a GoPro (On a GoPro)
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| Bitch, bought the crib, fuck the bank 'cause I don’t want no markings (We gon'
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| cash out)
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| Yachty still got the money from that one endorsement (That's some M’s)
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| Hellcat, red key, that’s too many horses (Uh)
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| In the club with all Franklins, throwing George’s (Catch 'em)
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| Walking through the airport, hoping they don’t call the dogs (Got the bag)
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| Froze than a bitch, I’m just hoping that I thaw (Ice)
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| I’m beefing with your mans, here go fifty, take his head off (All twenties)
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| Bankroll so fucking sloppy, I can’t spread it all (Wait, wait, wait)
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| Who that creeping in the car? |
| They windows down (Who is that?)
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| That might be bro, he 'posed to pull up with some loud (Ah, he good)
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| They started shooting, tell them kids go in the house (Bah, bah)
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| They heard the AR, make them niggas turn around, gang
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| Fuck his bitch in a pretty ass nightgown
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| She get drunk off the Tito’s, believe that
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| Fuck that bitch from the back, grab her weave tracks
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| Why these bitches want Boat? |
| Mind your beeswax
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| Make your bitch taste my kids just like D, facts
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| Put a crease in her back like some work slacks
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| Pussy wet, got me feeling like a merman
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| AR’s, AK’s like the Taliban
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| Tell a friend, niggas getting money like the Wheel of Fortune
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| Used to ride around crackin' cards
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| With no AC, man, that shit was really scorching
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| Send my bitch, talkin' bout you don’t replace the teeth with the Porsche
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| Now she badder than some old milk
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| Niggas talkin' 'bout what they 'bout to do, ayy (Talking 'bout what they finna
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| do)
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| Boy we already in motion, ayy (Boy, that ball already rolling)
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| Fuck with us, we crack that melon, ayy (Fuck with us, we crack that head)
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| We ain’t aiming at abdomens, ayy (We ain’t aiming at your body)
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| Try me if you feeling heroic, I’m strapped like a Trojan
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| You know I ain’t sparing shit when I start striking, no bowling
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| He say, «Grizzley, you don’t fuck with me,» get out your emotions
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| Blocko’ll tell you, 'fore we really got to this shit, we spoke it, nigga
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| Now them prices is the lowest, ayy (Prices is the lowest)
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| But them show prices the highest, ayy (Show prices the highest)
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| Man, my heart probably the darkest, bitch (Heart probably the coldest)
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| But our ice probably the brightest, nigga |
Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Once Again, artist - Quality Control. Album song Quality Control: Control The Streets Volume 2, in the genre Рэп и хип-хоп