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 #

lirik lagu it appears – o’way

it appears lyrics
[hook]
on one and it appears i can’t seem to stop (i can’t seem to stop)
man, she doesn’t stand a chance when these p’s get popped (h*ll nah)
the kids yellin’ “that’s my car” when i swing the block (that’s my car!)
if this n*gga keep on he gon’ get his beezy knocked
f*ck the flat, i’m dragging luggage on the way out
thumbing threw it while two b*tches getting ate out (they lesbians)
politickin’ with some pimpin’ at the steakhouse
them suckas sweet, i got two b*tches on the same route (same route)

[verse]
i’m breakin’ on sh*t like o*zone
that money callin’, baby, hold on
gettin’ to it as soon as i put my clothes on
this is the truth, i’m the one that all these hoes want
[?] man, b*tch i’m in demand
filthy fetti, they placing it in my hands
up front, the payments is in advance (in advance)
take advantage, this may be your only chance
these n*ggas like my style as much as the b*tches
but they hate me for it too ’cause they want some attention (o’way)
this sh*t was never nothing to me but comfortable livin’
and n*ggas want it so bad that they f*cking with feelings
but we could never trade places, i remain gracious (never!)
i ain’t perfect, but it’s clear that i remain shameless
pay attention to the sh*t that people ain’t sayin’ (what he say?)
plus tax, we do a lil more than maintainin’
i like a b*tch that get money and don’t mind sharin’
but she’ll never introduce me to her white parents (never)
i checked in at the hilton tryna find paris (where she at?)
with the gucci shawl on lookin’ like a terrorist
i tell her what i need and she get it done
b*tch you talkin’ to the n*gga with the sl!ckest tongue
cocaine on the table with vanilla rum (okay)
they wish they woulda played it smart, now they feelin’ dumb
all my n*ggas keep it player but they into guns
enjoying fruits of my labor, i’m just picking plums
mama know all these p*ssy n*ggas wanna k!ll her son (sorry mama)
but i get caught with loaded pistols, i ain’t slippin’ nun
i ain’t worried about sh*t, i do too many drugs
boss chillin’, f*ckin’ b*tches on expensive rugs (on expensive rugs)
all that sucker sh*t you on, it don’t appeal to us (no)
emotional appeal, that’s not the way we deal with stuff
they hadn’t noticed me on my way in
i just broke on a b*tch and did the break dance
with my game there ain’t nothing that you can’t have
hoes love me like i’m prince wearing suede pants
[hook]
on one and it appears i can’t seem to stop
man she doesn’t stand a chance when these p’s get popped
the kids yellin’ “that’s my car” when i swing the block (that’s my car!)
if this n*gga keep on then he gon’ get his beezy knocked
f*ck the flat, i’m dragging luggage on the way out (way out)
thumbing threw it while two b*tches getting ate out
politickin’ with some pimpin’ at the steakhouse
them suckas sweet, i got two b*tches on the same route (same route)

[outro]
speaking of routes, i’m running my own. doing my thang. yeah, huh, i’ma pit maneuver a n*gga if he try to step in this lane. ya know what i’m saying? crashing and burning. ugh. alejandro, or big don alpha. which one?

- oway

lirik lagu lainnya :

YANG LAGI NGE-TRENDS...