| Me and my niggas bout to kick it with some bitches, and you know we bout to
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| roll some trees
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| I’m feelin' it… you feelin' it
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| I’m feelin' it… you feelin' it
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| M.O.E., M.O.E., music over everything
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| Taking my time to perfect the beats
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| And I still got love for the streets, king gold chains
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| And my nigga Wiz Khalifa, got trip in a drink
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| Couple bad bitches, they just want VIP
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| You a playa fo real? |
| Don’t bring around me
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| Got girls left up in the backseat
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| Runnin like attract me, that’s me, leather on the 6th speed
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| Love it when she got her own shit together
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| Got shit to lose, then she with whatever
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| Always out of town, she my distant lover
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| Only pull in driveways with tints and better
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| Gold rims, we ghetto, on the chase for cheddar
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| From a jet runway, I can land wherever
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| Make more in a day than your salary
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| Nigga why you mad at me? |
| Talk cheap, I don’t lose sleep,
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| Man I…
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| I roll up that Mary J, my favorite song playin'
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| My clothes from the runway, my kush come from the land
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| You’s a baller or a hustler then you know what I’m sayin'
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| Them haters they talkin, hear em talk, I don’t care
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| I’m rollin'
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| Probably do a 95, smoking getting mighty high
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| Rolling weed since '99, smoke so much I’ll probably fly
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| If I don’t smoke I’ll probably die
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| I’m holdin'
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| Grippin' on the steering wheel, listening to my favorite jam
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| Ridin through Hollywood, I’m feeling like the fuckin man
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| Hundred grand to see me, kinda fore I go to sleep
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| That’s why I…
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| Drive fast til I’m out of gas
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| Getting money like this, can’t look back
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| She a one night stand, tryna make it last
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| But I be out of town soon as I hit that
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| 15 stacks runways, living lavish, big carrots
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| You ain’t getting money like that
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| I put rhymes on the beat, T-Rawws on the feet
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| Don’t hate me 'cause I’m where you wanna be
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| I do mostly what the minimum do
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| So my girls might be yours times 22
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| Ride 22 2's and I chunk up the deuce
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| Everything great like a nigga Babe Ruth
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| Translucent roof, but her dress seem through
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| She just tryna make it, guess you gotta do what you gotta do
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| Shit I ain’t gonna judge you
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| But don’t expect me to love you, feelin it? |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song M.O.E. , by - Tyga. Song from the album Hotel California, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп