| Pipe that shit up TnT
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| Dmac on the fuckin' track
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| I say, uh, oh, yeah, look
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| In the back of the Benz, I just got it painted
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| The grill gold-plated, my crib still gated
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| But we ain’t used to have not a dollar, who gon' take it
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| Robberies in Grand Theft Auto, I can’t fake it
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| They told me don’t be trippin' about it, I can’t save it
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| A whole lotta money bring problems
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| But if a nigga play, we gon' get him murdered tomorrow
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| Wanna see me demonstrate?
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| '87 T top Cultey, put it on the interstate
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| Solitaire Dior bucket, they can’t even see my face
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| These hoes they want me to chase
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| I don’t keep my sneakers laced
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| I don’t ride straight A my key can’t go to no valet
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| Flew my cars out to LA
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| I saw so many balls in this bitch we gon' need to vacate
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| We been off for some decades
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| Look, smokin' grade A, but its cool I got low grade
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| Get that boy a box of perfume, he got hoe way
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| Look, throw that boy a 7.62, we don’t throw shade
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| I hope everyone don’t hit you, not partly
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| Look, I’ma die, in these Cuban links, I feel like rod wave
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| Walk through 'em, want me to call through, that’s a role
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| Look, what you gonna do when the money through, shorty
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| Don’t keep tellin' me what you gon' do for me
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| Okay, yeah, only talk about shit that I go through, I ain’t phony
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| You gon' do, what The Who, I ain’t homie whore
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| Lab man, he got Trac cam by the homie
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| I ain’t no cappin', I spent you advance on little homie
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| We gon' get it address we don’t land til the morning, huh
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| Matter fact, gon' hit 'em up while I’m performin', huh
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| I just got another grill, call me George Foreman
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| I just got another mil' and I ain’t even hungry, huh
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| All you niggas do it, bitch you worser than a woman, huh
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| Anybody get it nigga, show me my opponent, huh
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| I be in the newest shit, I introduce you to this
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| I put you on my shooter list, fuck it, let me do the bitch
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| I been goin' through some shit, flip out, give the Juul a hit
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| On the one like Chris child, we don’t sip on no Christ style
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| I remember ridin' 'round in that bucket
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| When we was in that Nissan, they didn’t give me nothin'
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| When I was fucked up my own bitch wouldn’t even love me
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| When I ain’t have my swagger right the hoe wouldn’t even fuck me
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| I be on some feed the fam shit, I know my momma proud of me
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| I know that cut real good, I just can’t put down the shit
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| I do it real big, but they don’t acknowledge it
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| Look at where I live
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| You know I cash that on it, a condo and a crib
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| I pay more than 1.5 for it
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| Every day I spend some shit, every thing I’m in be lit
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| Everytime I think about it, I be tryna spend some shit
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| Long live all of my niggas where we done came
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| Hater, I gotta talk to you in the graveyard |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song 7.62 , by - YFN Lucci. Song from the album HIStory, Lost Pages, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп