Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Weed Bank, artist - QUE.. Album song Can You Digg It 2, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 02.03.2017
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Weed Bank |
| Pull up to the bank, nigga smelling like weed |
| Hop out the truck, I deposit the cheese |
| Half in Ralph, half in Ps |
| Some this shit dirty and some this shit clean |
| Mixing it up, Burberry Chucks |
| Pockets on clumps, chunky as fuck |
| Bales of mid, too much to scale |
| You ain’t coming big, then fuck it oh well |
| Two extra pounds in the bale, that’s all you |
| Can’t come inside unannounced, gotta call through |
| She gon' suck the soul out a nigga 'til her jaws blue |
| Nigga just blew a band like I won a lawsuit |
| Lord have mercy, thousand perkys, shippin' bales of Albuquerque |
| Will not talk to workers, I’m the boss, I talk in third person |
| Circle tighter than a virgin |
| Sippin' purple like it’s bourbon |
| Half a P wrapped in a turban |
| Just in case they try to search it |
| Watch your step when you pass me |
| Fuck that bitch, this last week |
| These bitch ass niggas drag queens |
| Two hoes with me playing tag team |
| Unload 100 bows, snuck 'em through the front door |
| Got 'em off, now I got a bankroll |
| Blowin' on some good dope, fuckin' on a hood ho |
| Hell yeah, 'fore the bank close nigga I’m a |
| Pull up to the bank, nigga smelling like weed |
| Hop out the truck, I deposit the cheese |
| Half in Ralph, half in Ps |
| Some this shit dirty and some this shit clean |
| Mixing it up, Burberry Chucks |
| Pockets on clumps, chunky as fuck |
| Bales of mid, too much to scale |
| You ain’t coming big, then fuck it oh well |
| I just doubled up on a brand new plug |
| Now a nigga got one for every single drug |
| You pour Ciroq, nigga we pour the mud |
| She think I’m a pay for the cat, that’s a dub |
| I rock Chanel, your nigga rock love |
| I just bought a new stick and filled it with slugs |
| Don’t say none' but I just fucked on what’s her name |
| That bitch in fuckin' chain, dancin' hard like Usher rain |
| This shit here a dirty game |
| My wrist is a hurricane |
| Pull up to the bank smelling like a pound of mary jane |
| I’m inside your bitch, she say she riding with me right or wrong |
| She gon' hop on top and ride this dick until her ties gon' |
| Bought me a Rollie off of dope money nigga |
| Now my wrist look like a snow cone |
| Got half things, whole things, QPs |
| Young nigga sellin' ice cream like Coldstone |
| Pull up to the bank, nigga smelling like weed |
| Hop out the truck, I deposit the cheese |
| Half in Ralph, half in Ps |
| Some this shit dirty and some this shit clean |
| Mixing it up, Burberry Chucks |
| Pockets on clumps, chunky as fuck |
| Bales of mid, too much to scale |
| You ain’t coming big, then fuck it oh well |