| Thou I pull up my lollipop, he let it lick the rapper
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| And I never kiss her after
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| I pass her to my dawgs
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| Shit is like lottery numbers
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| Girl you have to hit the most
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| First they start to choose and now probably pass his Uzzy
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| In the sink I might have her naked like Marcus Huston
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| Yeah, you missin' with the bastard, use to
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| Roabbin' David in my car so let’s start this all now
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| And I don’t need no hood for this chick
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| She gonna let me win, (she gonna let me win)
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| Yo she gonna let me hit x 2
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| Ok, let’s try to take your clothes off
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| Then I’mma hit, I’mma hit it til the dose out
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| And when we wrack it, I’mma hit it til the dose out
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| She say her pussy is the stoppin'
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| And I’m like if that’s the case I’mma beat it like Jordan got it
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| I’mma rock it like I’m use like when I lean in
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| And now between me and you but this for me and you
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| But can I take it off you, drive my type approach yeah
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| I do it so right, she call me an author
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| But I am just a gatter, yeah I’m just a gatter
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| Straight to the power, yeah it’s what I roll on
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| Yeah I swear I’mma her cheer like hit and hit
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| Showty, showty you can be _______(?)
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| And I don’t need this shit
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| I try to hit it, hit it
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| And I don’t need this shit
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| I try to hit it, hit it
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| Like if you try this like before
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| I play you like a toy
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| I know I pray you like but no I’m not a leader, I’m not a leader
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| No, I got to ball and fall for me and you
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| Let’s take this shit for the top
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| Let’s keep this shit West Coast
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| Let’s rollin' down the street, all my fan up
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| Sippin' and cookin' that tunes
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| Count stacks, cu I’m gettin' every dollar and my chicken top model
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| Young tricks to the mess up
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| Come on that top floor, when they start
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| Nigga have cigars and the minibar
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| Soon as he take it off, sure I’ve been see ‘em gone
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| Soon as she put it on, sure or sure they in the guard
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| I’m like the porn star but without the _____(?)
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| Check up, every check I got the bruve off
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| My bank account lookin' sumethin' like the cookies are
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| I put the hands in only if it’s gonna involve
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| But when they saw me they just scream for more
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| Young tigers skinny, skinny baggy I’ve been tighter
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| Make letter, come together, human type righter
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| Don’t bose if you can’t show
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| Cuz I show roll like fans when it’s free roll
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| I get so much cheese, they call me cheater
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| And these others nigga crash, fingers
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| [Rollin' down the street, all my fan up sippin' up, cookin' that juice
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| Count' stacks, cuz’I’m countin' every dollar and my chicken top model ] x 2 |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song A Voice 4rm Heaven Pt. 2: Michael Jackson , by - Tyga. Song from the album Fuk Wat They Talkin Bout, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп