Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Standin On a Coner, artist - Wiz Khalifa. Date of issue: 20.09.2013
Song language: English
Standin On a Coner |
| Big blunts in the air, I dont even care |
| Spilling Ace of Spades on my all white airs |
| Stuntin in my J’s |
| I got every pair, they put out since '85 |
| Cus a nga bout his gear |
| Hoes all up in my ear, cus im stylin' |
| Try to go bottle for bottle with us |
| Can’t do it, money we runnin through us |
| So competition throw the towel in |
| We over here, with fireworks up in the air |
| Bitches with good hair, cus you know we about to spark |
| Bobby Ray just walked in, Wiz about to park |
| The party bout to start, jewelry glowing in the dark |
| We got all the bitches wet, Skylar Diggins from the? |
| And you know your boy is sharp, cus she in my bed |
| I tell her take her clothes off, and open her legs |
| Keep them Louboutins on when she giving head |
| Cus you already know my favorite colour RED! |
| Im gettin bread while im |
| Standing on the corner |
| Watching my logo |
| I got my dime in the crib, iron in my Polo |
| Soon as your boy hit the streets, you know that I’m clean |
| So fresh and so clean, Outcast know what I mean |
| I throw that Andre 3000, one in the changer |
| And I dont ride through the hood, with out one in the chamber |
| You know i used to be broke but now nga im getting it |
| As I roll up up, I sit back and laugh in amazement |
| As how this all started in bottom of a basement |
| Back when i got started, nga saying «your shit is basic» |
| Now when you mention me, you must say Grammy nominated |
| All these haters drunk of hate, they basically wasted |
| Call a cab for these ngas, cus they ain’t gon make it |
| Can somebody please tell me just where Bobby Ray is |
| Well he’s prolly faded, prolly in a spaceship |
| Prolly outside of his mind, cus you know he crazy |
| But I kind of dig his style, its pretty contagious |
| Man them prolly doing him all kind of favors |
| I mean, it’s gotta be absolutely outrageous |
| Well, I couldn’t tell you what it is |
| More people tell me that they down, the bigger that I get |
| But I just keep doing my thang, cruise control in my own lane |
| And let these suckas complain |
| Im standing on the corner, watching the world go |
| I got my dime in the crib, holding up their dolo |
| Soon as your boy hit the stage you know the screaming |
| Its that pandemonium, if you know what i mean |
| I throw that Eastside up, Compton to Decatur |
| And on the Westside, I hit the homie Game up |
| I used to be letting on, now the ngas listening |
| Big money talk, big joint to spark |
| These Jordans on my feet, that’s hoe big money walk |
| Shawty give me head, like she don’t need body parts |
| Running my city like the King of New York |
| Poppin' champagne, hit him with the cork |
| Eating so good, nga need a fork |
| And i ball hard, nga need a court |
| The way lil mama give me brain, i swear she must have been a dork |
| Durrrrrr, you know me i keep one rolled up |
| Smoking with my bitch from overseas, where my Porsche from |
| And these hating ngas get no love |
| I be rolling weed, getting rich, fucking they bitch |
| Letting you spend all of your m, sending her on trips |
| I meet her there, you know, 'cus you smell the weed in her hair |
| You worried bout me keeping it player, instead you failed |
| Treated her fair, don’t need to look, she in the air |
| Standing on the corner, talking that shit |
| You ain’t really saying nothing, just hating of him |
| Every time i’m in my car i’m smoking that green |
| Even though this real life, its like a movie scene |
| I ain’t in the club if I Don’t Blaze Up |
| It don’t matter where I go, I’m throwing my gang up |
| Nobody used to know me but but |
| Now a nigga famous, now a nga famous |