Song information On this page you can find the lyrics of the song Turner Field (Stadiums), artist - YFN Lucci. Album song 650Luc, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп
Date of issue: 19.06.2019
Age restrictions: 18+
Record label: Think It's A Game, Warner
Song language: English
Turner Field (Stadiums) |
Too many real ones locked up |
I want them niggas to hear this from stadium to stadium |
Free Major Grams |
Free Shell |
Free Poochie |
Gangsta Grillz |
Free Pookie-Pook |
Free my nigga kenny |
Free 20 Dog and free Maro |
Free the whole Edison gang |
Free my nigga Q Money |
Look, two cups of Promethazine got me faded |
Big boss worth a couple mill, bitch, I made it |
Uh, Super Bowl ring and my cup look like the stadium, yeah |
I remember we used to hustle by the stadium |
Bendin' blocks and runnin' from the cops, yeah, uh |
I remember ridin' in hotboxes, yeah, uh |
Ay, we were somewhere tryna pop and lock |
We spot it out then we gon' pop the top |
Made eighty thousand on the auto mall on that boy |
I can’t fuck with none of you lil' suckas, you niggas lollipops |
And we good at poppin' Glocks |
My lil' brother Jay caught a body, he don’t know how to stop |
I’m trappin', bitch, I might run off |
Uh, we be in the 'partment, uh, we got hard and soft, huh |
Used to pull out, get a ten, come back and break you off |
Now my leather real soft, now I’m prolly at Weezy house |
I put VVs in my mouth, my potna cold clean you out, yeah |
We made it this far, nigga, we stars (Uh huh) |
Plus I hold the chopper like I hold a guitar (Yeah) |
Now I pull strings like a guitar |
That lean got me throwed off, BG just like O-Dogg (Yeah) |
Look, two cups of Promethazine got me faded |
Big boss, worth a couple mill, bitch, I made it |
Uh, Super Bowl ring and my cup look like the stadium, yeah |
I remember we used to hustle by the stadium |
Look, two cups of Promethazine got me faded |
Big boss, worth a couple mill, bitch, I made it |
Uh, Super Bowl ring and my cup look like the stadium, yeah |
I remember we used to hustle by the stadium |
Ay, you think we just gon' sit here and starve |
Fuck wrong with y’all? |
(Nah) |
Think we ain’t gon' play by my dawg, what wrong with y’all? |
We ain’t got no pressure slangin' gun, fuck the law, huh |
If we ain’t got no paper we gon' go sell the raw |
Call my youngin, they pull up with stick, sell 'em somethin' |
Only for the money, they tryna take holmes head off, uh |
From where we comin', you know we so hard head, y’all |
I lost my cousin to a bitch and my cousin wasn’t even involved |
I’m thuggin', ready for war (What else?) |
They ain’t care about my nigga, why the fuck should I care about y’alls? |
Fuck it, go kill 'em all, uh |
Raised up in public houses |
With no room on the bed, we had to sleep on the couches, yeah |
Now we in the club, I got my foot on the couch and shit |
My nigga dead, we gotta shoot up they house and shit |
They like, «We train with the feds, we don’t know how to miss» |
Only med sippin' red, I don’t know how to quit, yeah |
Look, two cups of Promethazine got me faded |
Big boss, worth a couple mill, bitch, I made it |
Uh, Super Bowl ring and my cup look like the stadium, yeah |
I remember we used to hustle by the stadium |
Look, two cups of Promethazine got me faded |
Big boss, worth a couple mill, bitch, I made it |
Uh, Super Bowl ring and my cup look like the stadium, yeah |
I remember we used to hustle by the stadium |
Yeah |
Rest in peace, Gino |
I remember we used to hustle by the stadium |
Yeah, yeah |