| Ayyy
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| It’s Dolph!
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| I do this shit for real, my nigga
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| That 2 seater, fully loaded. |
| This Swisher Sweet, fully loaded
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| This wrist piece, fully loaded
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| So this four five, fully loaded
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| Them young niggas, I can’t control em. |
| Pull up with a thirty thousand dollar
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| motor
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| Eyes low, cuz I’m never sober, cuz I’m a mud drinker and a strong smoker
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| Got a little bitch that get money out Pure Passion and out Stroker’s
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| My old head nigga said, «You get too much money, young nigga stay focused!»
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| Had an out of state plug when I was nineteen nigga, so I ain’t ever been local
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| Jumped in this rap game, spent a little bit of change, brought the streets with
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| me, now it’s time to take over!
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| That’s that Paper Route Empire shit. |
| Got a white girl that like to twerk,
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| and she on that Miley Cyrus shit
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| Don’t need no pen, don’t need no paper. |
| Just give me a track, and I’ll demolish
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| it
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| I’m on the other side of the country, with fifty p’s in my closet, bitch!
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| I have the bread in the house
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| In the bed, in the couch
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| I came up with a multi-million dollar plan at the house
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| I don’t trust these hoes, so I don’t get head at the house
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| I just woke up out a nightmare, fucking feds ran in the house
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| Press up CDs at the house, weighing Ps at the house
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| Hell nah, I ain’t never had no keys at the house
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| Lotta pistols, a hundred thousand dollar wardrobe at the house
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| Fresh as fuck and strapped up, every time I leave the house
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| I got no cable at the house, just plenty paper at the house
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| I ain’t talking hoes, when I say I got flavors at the house
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| Stack my paper to the ceiling, went and bought Mama a house
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| Said, «Mama, do me a favor, and keep yo ass up out the South.»
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| Now Mama waving at her white neighbors, just chillin at the house
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| But Daddy just like me, that nigga still running in and out
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| What you doing in the hood dad? |
| «Young nigga watch your mouth»
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| My Mama just called me tipsy, say she brought me in and she’ll take me out
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| Damn, what the fuck? |
| Yeah I’m still dealin' with this
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| Daddy just like me, south Memphis nigga, that’s real nigga shit
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| Hood nigga run through a couple hundred bands while I’m eating on a box of
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| Popeyes
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| I’m connected like Wi-Fi
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| Nigga that’s why I…
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| I have the bread in the house
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| In the bed, in the couch
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| I came up with a multi-million dollar plan at the house
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| I don’t trust these hoes, so I don’t get head at the house
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| I just woke up out a nightmare, fucking feds ran in the house
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| Press up CDs at the house, weighing Ps at the house
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| Hell nah, I ain’t never had no keys at the house
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| Lotta pistols, a hundred thousand dollar wardrobe at the house
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| Fresh as fuck and strapped up, every time I leave the house |
Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song At the House , by - Young Dolph. Song from the album Cross Country Trappin, in the genre Иностранный рэп и хип-хоп