Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Volley Express, artist - Stalley. Album song Songs by Me, Stalley, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 28.02.2012
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Milq
Song language: English
Volley Express |
GMC trucks with the extended cab |
This year I extend my cash |
Vast wages for these raps |
These hating niggas get the straps no debating it’s just that |
No more Mr. Nice guy |
My nigga just tatted tears under his right eye |
Unremorseful souls for that Porsche and Rolls |
A couple golds and some nice diamonds |
And they taking it all from you, now my niggas shining |
So think before talking homie this ain’t just rhyming |
I came from that cold hole, I’m my city’s diamond |
So it’s natural for that street to get to firing |
If you niggas try and play me boy |
Or knock me out my Penn state 'cause I don’t play with boys |
I play with toys with the big wheels |
is how that truck feels |
Leathr seat, wood grain steering wheels |
Captain of the Silverado, morning brakfast in the Tahoe |
Lunch in executive suites, dinner at beauty and Essex |
That’s how bosses eat |
Kiss the ring or kiss the cheek before you lame niggas speak to me |
Before you lame niggas speak |
To me |
Used to ride up in my truck thinking something’s gotta budge |
Getting dough didn’t have enough to make it through when times got tough |
Trying to be patient praying one day I was gonna make it (Gonna make it) |
Now I’m being driven around, feeling like I own the town |
Still get to blow with the baddest hoes, thankful for the life I chose |
Made 'em so anxious if I want it it’s mine for the taking |
GMC swanging |
Nowadays I travel like a president |
Black SUVs with the darkest tint |
Every city I’m in, I’m in the heart of it |
Campaigning, champagning, my cigar lit |
Fitted hat with the crooked C |
Smiling through the window with my gap teeth |
Three fingers up, you know what the motto be |
Everywhere I go it’s like they honor me |
So all hail to the honorable (Me) |
And raise our glasses high to the common folk |
This grind was kinda slow but now it’s picking up |
A real American dream |
Used to be behind the wheel now I’m getting pushed |
Riding through the state like a black Bush |
Ohio state plates, no Reggie Bush |
Just some purple kush and some large Trojans |
For these boppers trying to be chosen |
And sit back seat with me chain smoking |
Presidential bar shit, I told her keep rolling |
Been Lewinski for the ride then I’m kicking her to the side |
And I’m back on my grown man |
Rolling |
Rolling for that blue collar dollar American dream |
Looking back on my my life from where I used to be |
Used to ride up in my truck thinking something’s gotta budge |
Getting dough didn’t have enough to make it through when times got tough |
Trying to be patient praying one day I was gonna make it (Gonna make it) |
Now I’m being driven around, feeling like I own the town |
Still get to blow with the baddest hoes, thankful for the life I chose |
Made 'em so anxious if I want it it’s mine for the taking |
GMC swanging |
Once upon a time I used to dream |
Working 9−5 steady on the grind, this would be temporary |
Now look at me now |
I’m on top of the world |
Paid to feel me |
GMC swinging |
GMC banging |
While I blow out my smoke |
Out the window |
While I blow out my smoke |
Out the window |