Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Real Addresses, artist - Tory Lanez. Date of issue: 22.03.2016
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Real Addresses |
| Whipping all this dope up in the trap house |
| We fuck all you bitches at a trap house |
| I can’t trust you hoes, can’t give you real addresses |
| I can’t trust you hoes, can’t give you real addresses |
| It don’t mean to be like Jerry Stackhouse |
| I might fall in love with my trap house |
| I can’t trust you hoes, can’t give you real addresses |
| I can’t trust you hoes, can’t give you real addresses |
| Whipping all this dope look like I’m selling phony |
| All that nigga want that Rarri with the bezel on it |
| I see niggas change from friends into them telling on me |
| I see niggas go from friends to getting jealous on me |
| I see niggas call their shooters and their felons one me |
| I see niggas get religious when their heir was coming |
| I had to trust the plug sometimes, ain’t have no scale up on me |
| Whip a couple liters now |
| Trap house got too hot and now I’m trapping out my fiend’s house |
| Had to break the lease tho |
| And I pay my little nigga just to watch out for police now |
| Cause it look like a four in my kitchen |
| It look like I’m cooking with them zoes in my kitchen |
| I’m water whipping, whipping four with my kitchen |
| My nigga Trey he pack a four for you niggas |
| When my grandma kicked me out the house |
| I said fuck it dawg, I’m bout to bounce |
| I said fuck it dawg, I gots to make it |
| I said fuck it" |
| Started hustling and got that six |
| My nigga Shadow he come with that ladder |
| I know some scammers that come with that data |
| Gotta ask em how we pull up in a Lambo |
| Shout go out to Dream that Bape and… Camo |
| Flexing bitch, I’m in the latest |
| I put all my baddest bitches in their favorite fragrance |
| I might fuck a country bitch that got that diner, diner |
| I might make a movie with em like I’m Damon Wayans, ya feel? |
| I might whip the four with my kitchen |
| It look like a nigga selling O’s in my kitchen |
| I’m whipping, my wrist it feel cold in this kitchen |
| And I’m flipping again, where it goes in this kitchen? |