a b c d e f g h i j k l m n o p q r s t u v w x y z 0 1 2 3 4 5 6 7 8 9 #

hypebeast - crybaby cash & lawson vladimir lyrics

{verse 1: crybaby cash}
she just wanna go to the club and shake her ass with her partners
make a junkie watch the amg for a couple dollars
my leather soft like birdman when he was on that stunna island
corey in the house, i always knew it like that’s so raven
your favorite rapper like cedric, he ain’t nothing but entertainment
that stupid b*tch for everybody, this lame n*gga gon’ claim her
them hoes gone really do anything, i’m really scared to be famous
in the frenzy i ain’t like how i look so i had to rearrange it
and i’m feeling like this music sh*t ain’t nothing but see who the lamest
and i told you top ain’t far from the bottom, watch how a n*gga really make it
you could ask a bad ass b*tch right now, i bet i’m in her playlist
f*ck with them real b*tches, they got the natural body and pretty faces
they say pressure gon’ bust pipes, watch when i press her, she gon’ cave in
i can’t give me another charge, i need that house with a 12 garage
s600, that b*tch so wide, it look like a tv up on the wall
put that sh*t on just to sit in the house, i remember stealing out the mall
yeah, my phone got good ass service, but i told her, still don’t call
when you back up on the wall, they ain’t gon’ call your ass at all
i was dreaming bout mclaren’s, i sat in it, that b*tch too small
my only goal in life to crash that b*tch ain’t got insurance at all
n*ggas cherishing that money, you can’t take it when you gone
told her get ready, been three hours this b*tch taking too long
and i knew his ass was hypebeast when i seen him wearing vlone

[verse 2: lawson vladimir]
ballin’ out the bando, this b*tch foreclosed we ain’t even get a lease
she got too much makeup, tryna take pics f*ck up the seats
don’t try to be a aggie, baby i’m quick, block, delete
i know n*ggas crashing bout hoes, you stupid b*tch, that hoe a freak
bottles of the rose
i’m gon’ call them mexicans to come mop up the floor
i f*cked up the check again, i’m finna get some more
i ain’t tryna bless the b*tch, cause i don’t really know her
acting fake humble b*tch i’m really in my mode
i’m in my mode and my shoulder cold
b*tch, she want get close i think she bogus
she won’t prove me wrong, we swing open doors
said they closed, but they ain’t really closed
he said he got clothes, but they ain’t clothes
he don’t put it on
you don’t pay attention, i don’t do the feelings
i think n*ggas b*tches, they be in they feelings
n*ggas don’t want to talk it out, they jump quick to k!lling
and b*tch why you play the victim and play me like a villain
only a few n*ggas i know really see sh*t for what it is
i gotta respect it
he ain’t know what to put on a chain
he put his name on his neck
i got this average lil thing, tryna come and cop a 7
oh, he gon’ tattle on the gang, he took wings from the detective
i took packs up on a plane, i can’t go back to that ever
got a fat hoe i entertain, but i wouldn’t never hit it ever
she got on khakis and it hang, i guess her shots just hitting better
i literally say anything, i don’t care, like what the f*ck

- crybaby cash lawson vladimir lyrics

Random Song Lyrics :

Popular