Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Put It on My Tab, artist - Quilly
Date of issue: 20.02.2017
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Put It on My Tab |
See, when you know the line, like I know the line line |
(I know the plug), not the middleman, I know the line |
Haha, I know the plug, you heard? |
Fuck you talkin' bout? |
I got all these niggas' mad, I got all these bitches sad |
When I pull up in that JAG, yeah, I’m finally in my bag |
And my credit; |
A1, Prolly put it on my tab |
She gon' give that pussy up, I told her «put it on my tab» |
I got bands, I got percs, Auntie, put it on my tab |
I got work, I got percs, Unc, put it on my tab |
I got coke, I got dope, Papi, put it on my tab |
Yeah! |
(put it on my tab) |
My ambitions as a rider, shorty, she a slider |
Only fuckin' wit me cuz she know I’m bout a dollar |
Pull up in an Audi, engine soundin' like Mufasa |
And, I know these niggas' lying, they ain’t never tote no chopper |
I be stinkin' up the kitchen, smell like Onion Powder |
Popcorn in the pot, it look like over red and bocker |
She gon' shine the chopper, find a nigga hotter |
I want David Beckham money, so, I’m in the field like soccer |
Junkies gettin' lockjaw, they be soundin' like Chewbacca |
I got scripts on top of scripts, I’m politicking wit the doctors |
Hold up, wait, I got weight, bag it up, don’t sell no weight |
He gon' throw me what I want cuz I can get it on my face |
Give em «I» «O» «U"s, I got my smokers hooked on phonics |
Talk to my connect over the phone, he speak e-bonics |
Quilly push the rock like Gary Payton for the Sonics |
Drive through like the sonic, all I serve is Sani |
Get me out the trap like «when the fuck is they gon' sign me?» |
Got it on consignment, used to drive the Bonnie |
Now a days you see me in them hot wheels like a «Johnny» |
Trap 24/7, I ain’t got no job like Tommy |
Switchin' the flow, I’m fuckin' the beat up |
I see the cops, I’m liftin' my seat up |
Droppin' a whole bag on my «Re-up» |
I’m never comfortable, they got their feet up |
I play the county, they never see us |
I’m in the field, I’m fuckin' my cleets up |
I’m on my Franklins; |
word to Aretha |
Ain’t bout a dollar, I’m chuckin' the peace up |
See ya! |