Song information On this page you can read the lyrics of the song Expensive Taste , by - YoungBoy Never Broke Again. Release date: 27.01.2022
Age restrictions: 18+
Song language: English
Expensive Taste |
| Fuck them racks, I keep a card, I got the Glock in the middle |
| Know I’ma spin 'bout my nigga |
| I told her hit me on the way, when she headin' home |
| I’ma have it lookin' nice when she get here |
| Real hitta, band nigga, expensive bottle for bitches |
| Made nigga with' millions, straight from the bottom my nigga |
| Gravedigga' and you know he don’t tolerate mentions |
| Dirty choppa if he ever got a problem with niggas |
| Big issues, he ain’t trippin' cause his sack thicker |
| Wonder how she feel that she finna get married to that nigga |
| Got to know I’m ready, she know I been waitin' plenty minutes |
| And she too bad for them jeans, can’t do no skinny dippin' |
| Ain’t never worried 'bout these niggas, I do the realest pimpin' |
| Mink coat, styrofoam dope, how I walk up in it |
| From off the porch, they’ll never know how these diamonds glistin |
| Made it out, young nigga been on suicidal mission |
| I got on gang attire nigga, this be the best of linen |
| Ride in a Lincoln, with', no I don’t need your lendin' |
| She think she got one up on me |
| I blew a bag on my homie |
| I got a chance and I boned it |
| Think all these niggas are phony |
| Wake up and smoke in the mornin' |
| I rep that flag with my blood |
| These niggas know that I’m on it |
| I let off shots in the club |
| And these bitches wanna be my mommy |
| But you know you not my girl |
| Flood her finger with diamonds |
| No, I can’t turn up your world |
| This a new, better have your shit together when you see me |
| Nigga know I’m covered down in green |
| But for a fact, I’m bleedin' |
| Nigga knowin that I’m strapped |
| You better clap soon as you see me |
| Won’t buy her anything, but flood my sister for any reason |
| Cocaine white like I’m sellin' drugs |
| That’s a new foreign off the lot for my thug, why? |
| Cause he been with' me way before I even knew who I was |
| Lil shorty with' me and she got me, she don’t care 'bout no buzz |
| 1942 get her drunk, she gon' leave with' a buzz |
| The feds on me, watch how I talk, I think they planted a bug |
| What the fuck wrong with' me? |
| Spent a couple million, wake up then the label sent another million |
| Ain’t no slippin', on my pimpin', got it on me know I’m grippin' |
| Every time I sent a blitz they zipped 'em, rare they fail a mission |
| Cause they know we get it done, as usual, how we come |
| Let 'em keep thinkin' I’m dumb, I’m never done |
| Check how my pockets, got them mumps |
| Check how them draco’s got them drumbs |
| Make a beat like a band, flood her with' bands |
| Make her so hot, they gon' think she got a tan |
| Nigga know I’m known to buss my gun |
| For a fact I ain’t never ran, this who I am |
| Better speak clear or I can’t hear what you sayin' |
| Fuck them racks, I keep a card, I got the Glock in the middle |
| Know I’ma spin 'bout my nigga |
| I told her hit me on the way, when she headin' home |
| I’ma have it lookin' nice when she get here |
| Real hitta, band nigga, expensive bottle for bitches |
| Made nigga with' millions, straight from the bottom my nigga |
| Gravedigga' and you know he don’t tolerate mentions |
| Dirty choppa if he ever got a problem with niggas |
| Dirty cutter, crazy how it chop and clean up the block |
| Won fights inside the hood |
| Lost fights inside the block, it never stop |
| Come from the ground, I ain’t use a crane, I rushed to top |
| Play with' them glizzys like Shmurda, they know that lil nigga hot |
| And I got ten cars, I ain’t never showed the shit that I got |
| I could have ten broads |
| But ain’t nothin' worth the bitch on my side |
| Could be the best one recordin' |
| But ain’t nothin' worth Jason spot |
| I get in, then hit it hard, then I cum on her twat |
| He can be a robber, bet that nigga won’t stick his hand in my pot |
| Cut off his arm, bet he won’t say that he took off on AI |
| I had it hard, I walked on feet, but now fly on a G5 |
| Hope he don’t think he could Gee me, I ain’t goin for no G, five |
| And that my blood, he get it brackin', he got to war when we firin' |
| Yea, that my 10 to then end, we gon' spin |
| Got Dior on my glasses, and got Nick behind the lens |
| Just me, my sister, my momma and girl, no I don’t need no friends |
| I don’t got a gun, I got a knife for when they kickin' in |
| I’m sleepin' lightly throught the night, just incase Casper in |
| I got them capsules in New York, and they got molly in it |
| Imagine every friend with' the shit, just don’t let holly in |
| Fuck them racks, I keep a card, I got the Glock in the middle |
| For to buy a flight and get away after I pop me a nigga |
| I take a flight and get away cause I can’t tolerate niggas |
| Got to get mine, straight out the gate |
| Hustlin' for more than eight figures |
| Fuck that money, got a black card, my Glock in the middle |
| Know I’ma spin 'bout my niggas |
| He this and that, but tell me how the fuck do they figure |
| He worried 'bout any one these niggas or these bitches (How, how) |
| Fuck them racks, I keep a card, I got the Glock in the middle |
| Know I’ma spin 'bout my nigga |
| I told her hit me on the way, when she headin' home |
| I’ma have it lookin' nice when she get here |
| Real hitta, band nigga, expensive bottle for bitches |
| Made nigga with' millions, straight from the bottom my nigga |
| Gravedigga' and you know he don’t tolerate mentions |
| Dirty choppa if he ever got a problem with niggas |
| It’s Slimeto, Lil Top, AI |
| YoungBoy nigga, Kentrell |