Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song 327 , by - Westside Gunn. Song from the album Pray for Paris, in the genre Рэп и хип-хопRelease date: 16.04.2020
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Griselda
Song language: English
327 |
| I’m rockin' old Nashes, on the runway in my coke fashion |
| Anybody move, we toe-taggin' (Boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, boom, |
| boom) |
| My 327s was blessings, leather Vuitton vests |
| Keep a loaded firearm in Mercedes armrests, Lord stressin' (Skrrt) |
| Twenty-two with grays, twenty-five left in the cage |
| I told him hold your head, it’s worse in a grave |
| I threw coke in the pot, watched it bloom residue and consume |
| He started wavin', had a lighter and dope spoon |
| A nigga try to kill you for your recipe |
| My shooter nasal drip flowin' heavily, duckin' my third felony (Ah) |
| Take your shine, two for five, me and mines |
| Runnin' from suit and ties, you say you the flyest, then who am I? |
| Balenciaga with the heel, lemonade a popular drink still |
| VLONE jean jacket rockin', so be real (Ah) |
| Over pots, I’m too exquisite |
| On the dancefloor tryna finger fuck on every visit |
| Some niggas’ll never risk it |
| Hoppin' in BMs, I’m proud of my position (Skrrt) |
| They never had a pot to piss in |
| Body parts on Cavalli dishes |
| On Mulholland in the drop Porsche wildin', my loafers crocodile |
| Stylin', I be havin' greater visions (Ah) |
| You can tell by the way I whip it |
| You gettin' money, then the haters with it |
| It ain’t dry, I told 'em wait a minute (Ah) |
| Praise both for the way I did it |
| I swear Paris will be prayed for (Prayed for) |
| Unreleased Off-White to the ankles, ayy (Ankles) |
| I’m in them places that you can’t go (That you can’t go) |
| Don C, Nigo in the same row, ayy (The same row) |
| I swear Paris will be prayed for |
| I need Casablanca by the caseload (Caseload, Badmon) |
| Silks with the oranges and the mangoes (Mangoes, yeah, yeah, yeah) |
| I’m a model now, baby, got the face for it, ayy (Face for it, yeah, yeah, yeah) |
| I swear Paris will be prayed for |
| I’m from an era of hard knocks and quiet storms (Shh) |
| Rap songs about crack rocks and firearms (Bah, bah, bah, bah) |
| In the stash spot on some Money Mitch shit (Woo) |
| Adjust the AC, conceal the biscuit (Yeah) |
| It’s your life, you can choose to risk it if you wanna |
| These niggas don’t want smoke, they want some marijuana |
| I used to get kicked out of class just for my aroma |
| I went to school high, forgot to pick up my diploma (I was high) |
| That’s way back when we used to cypher Arizonas (Uh-huh) |
| Now I’m in that Maybach, I’m with Puff and Hova (Facts, woo, woo) |
| We bendin' corners in the six-deuce |
| Talk about last night’s ten thousand dollar bottles of Pétrus, sip it like it’s |
| juice, homie |
| How could I lose? |
| The shit that these fools’ll do to be in my shoes, I’m done playin' by rules |
| Learned from OGs, I’m retirin' the jewels |
| Everything is plain jane, different day, the same thing |
| I mean, it’s usual |
| Everything that’s new to you be the type of shit I’m used to |
| I could give a fuck about the hater shit, I’m used to it |
| If it’s fuck me, then know the feeling is mutual (Bitch) |
| I swear Paris will be prayed for (Prayed for) |
| Unreleased Off-White to the ankles, ayy (It's young Bada$$, ankles) |
| I’m in them places that you can’t go (Yeah, yeah, yeah, that you can’t go) |
| Don C, Nigo, in the same row, ayy (The same row) |
| I swear Paris will be prayed for |
| I need Casablanca by the caseload (Caseload) |
| Silks with the oranges and the mangoes (Mangoes) |
| I’m a model now, baby, got the face for it, ayy (Face for it) |
| I swear Paris will be prayed for |
| If you feelin' good |
| Then everybody say yeah, yeah (Yeah) |
| Yeah, yeah (Feelin' good) |
| Yeah, yeah (I'm on my Gunn shit) |
| Bitch, I’m all that, all that, Kenan, Kel (Kel) |
| When I walk in, niggas ring the, ring the bells (Bells) |
| Roses at my feet, niggas kneel, bitches yell |
| Glitter on my neck match the glitter on my fingernails (Ayy, yo) |
| Niggas always got something to say, well fuck 'em |
| Same guys was mighty 'til they got to duckin' |
| We got the pucks and we chuckin' |
| They playin' chicken, we cluckin' |
| I’m Colonel Sanders to you motherfuckers |
| Niggas trash and we dumpin' (Uh), I been rappin' and fuckin' (Yup) |
| He 6'5″, I’m a munchkin, and we speed to the disco (Dance) |
| This car came with a driver, I’m in the back playin' «Frontin'» |
| I ain’t cryin', the wind is flyin', stop makin' assumptions |
| I ain’t lyin' or nothin' |
| Yes, I’m is, I’m so happy |
| I turned nothin' to somethin', skin glowin', my hair nappy |
| My health good, my mama good, my niggas too |
| And they only wanna have good times like Josh Safdie |
| We eat good, long way from Maccas burgers |
| Long way from that metro bus taxi service |
| Long way, loco gangs tried to taxidermy (Where you from, nigga?) |
| We would run until our motherfuckin' backs was burnin', uh |
| But anyway, the shorts short and the socks high |
| And the emeralds shinin', them GQs and them pot pies (Bling) |
| And I spy with my private eye that you tried |
| You cannot pull this look off, nigga, you’re not I |
| I swear Paris will be prayed for (Prayed for) |
| Unreleased Off-White to the ankles, ayy (Ankles) |
| I’m in them places that you can’t go (That you can’t go) |
| Don C, Nigo, in the same row, ayy (The same row) |
| I swear Paris will be prayed for |
| I need Casablanca by the caseload (Caseload) |
| Silks with the oranges and the mangoes (Mangoes) |
| I’m a model now, baby, got the face for it, ayy (Face for it) |
| I swear Paris will be prayed for (Prayed for) |