Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Profit, artist - Rittz. Album song Next to Nothing, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопDate of issue: 08.09.2014
Record label: Strange
Song language: English
Profit |
| I got my buddies on the corner |
| In the back of the club with a sack |
| And they rolling up a jointer |
| Smoking that country stash |
| You ain’t never seen a bull rider bumping UGK |
| Nah homie, you ain’t never seen that |
| Fuck it, pete, like a bucket seat |
| Hip hop make 'em all lean back |
| Make a ping pong ball jealous of the bounce |
| Chevrolet sitting tall like a cloud |
| Yeah, pick another trailer park girl up |
| Dirty blonde digger, ding dong, get out |
| Yeah, Imma let the lid out |
| Bud fuck puffing in this jar, lightning bug |
| Southern hospitality, but I hospitalize you 'cause I’m nice enough |
| To spot a punk like a homophobic |
| I’m on it, my opponents know it |
| Get your money up D-boy |
| I ain’t a D-boy, but my folks they grow it |
| Done clipped the bud and done sold it |
| I been sipping Bud, you ain’t noticed? |
| I’m in the bible belt like a church, in the lobby |
| Where they offering trade for that profit |
| Yep, yep, yep, bitch I’m all about my (profit) |
| Yep, yep, yep, don’t even try to count my (profit) |
| Yep, yep, yep, so stay the fuck up out my (profit) |
| Yep, yep, yep, yep, yeah |
| Let me get started |
| Targeting artists, ain’t no dodging em, lodging them |
| Cause they fraudulous, yeah, my ho might been sporting shit |
| No tours and shit, no super Nintendo, but I got cartridges |
| Cartman shit, working my big old tool like I know carpentry |
| Pardon me it’s the, nigga you know me, the hottest commodity |
| Probably catch me posted at penny province in poverty |
| Cause they copping it, stopping me, nope |
| No? |
| Copping me, nope |
| P O T B E L L, why the hell they riding my tail yeah |
| I’ll slow it down a minute (what?) |
| Cause I ain’t been around a minute |
| These niggas feeling themselves cause I let em borrow the crown a minute |
| And I’ll admit I get beside myself sometimes |
| Only 'cause I know I got dope rhymes |
| And my punch lines will fuck wit yo mind, I’m bucking, bout my |
| Yep, yep, yep, bitch I’m all about my (profit) |
| Yep, yep, yep, don’t even try to count my (profit) |
| Yep, yep, yep, so stay the fuck up out my (profit) |
| Yep, yep, yep, yep, yeah |
| I am a real Slumerican |
| Told Yelawolf he can swear me in |
| I got a heavy double barrel in my box Chevy |
| When my album drop, everybody scared again |
| And I’m prepared to win at all costs |
| Y’all talk a lot of shit, tryna tear my skin |
| And rumor has it I’m crazy, I need to see a therapist |
| Well if the shoe fits, fuck it Imma wear it then |
| Cause I’m a go getter, I would swear for ten |
| I’m bout to turn up like a sombrero rim |
| I’m kinda like a modern day Larry Flynn |
| It’s Slum shit, baby fuck Katy Perry fans |
| I rep Atlanta, I ain’t never been to Paris, France |
| I switch lanes, crossing over like I’m Jeremy Lin |
| You can’t admire me, don’t let me catch you staring pimp |
| I’m like a great white shark in this aquarium |
| When I was young, I knew kids out caroling |
| Around the holidays, they were pistol carrying |
| In the spare, getting paper was imperative |
| I’m reaching in my pocket, only thing there was lint |
| Well I compare with then, don’t want to spare a cent |
| We suited up in all black, in a pair of tens |
| I ran up in a local baller’s house, I lay it down |
| Motherfucker, show me where it is, I’m bout to take that profit |
| Yep, yep, yep, bitch I’m all about my (profit) |
| Yep, yep, yep, don’t even try to count my (profit) |
| Yep, yep, yep, so stay the fuck up out my (profit) |
| Yep, yep, yep, yep, yeah (profit) |