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lirik lagu vultures (havoc version) – ¥$, kanye west & ty dolla $ign

[intro: ty dolla $ign & kanye west, dj pharris]
all eyes is on me
won’t tell no lies, won’t hold my tongue
don’t cry for me
(this chicago, n*gga)

[verse 1: bump j & dj pharris]
i don’t have no rapper friends, i hang wit’ the vultures
big*ass toaster, hit you with it, flip it over
big ol’ n*gga, he’s a big ol’ goofy, rudy gobert
jump off in that lane, you gon’ get put on a poster
laferrari f8, lamborghini roadster
i turn ten bricks into twelve, them birds had a growth spurt
we gon’ do some shoppin’ later, i’ma need some throat first
i just got some head in a ghost, then i ghost her
yeah, yeah, out of here, your boyfriend a gopher
i see him out with her, i pretend like i don’t know her
i can’t do no features with you, n*gga, it’s a “no, sir”
hardest n*gga on earth, i’m not really from earth
we don’t dial 9*1*1, i let off that chrome first
i put in my own work, better do your homework
i can hear that money callin’, i pick up the first ring
what you gon’ charge that old man for that p*ssy?
girl, don’t hurt me (this chicago, n*gga)

[verse 2: lil durk & dj pharris]
iced out all my scammer hoes, boost all they insurance up
iced out all my ghetto hoes who turned into influencers
smurkio, f*ck that b*tch and leave, i don’t care who she f*ck
air sh*t out her closet, it’s hot as h*ll, she got on yeezy uggs
i got moes with me, bump out the feds, mean i got foes with me
you got goofies with you, before i do that, i keep some hoes with me
askin’ for my gun when i’m in cali’, n*gga, this your city
why you dm’in’ my b*tch actin’ like we f*ck? these hoes below*semi
street n*ggas want ramen, i don’t like calamari
took her out that cheap sh*t, took her to bvlgari
never tell her, “sorry,” this car a ferrari
off set with this cuban link, you think she was cardi, go
(this chicago, n*gga, go)
[verse 3: kanye west]
three gang leaders with me all times
i don’t know who i f*cked last night, i got alzheimer’s
i don’t know who them hoes is, man, they all lyin’
brody, tell me who them hoes is, man, they all fine
runnin’ hooligans, and we with the foolishness
how i’m anti*semitic? i just f*cked a jewish b*tch
i just f*cked scooter’s b*tch and we ran her like olympics
got pregnant in the threesome, so whose baby is it?
whose baby is it?
my n*ggas puttin’ belt to ass, pull up with the switches
this ain’t jimmy butler, but the heat got extensions
this ain’t columbine, but we came in with the trenches

[verse 4: ty dolla $ign & kanye west]
she askin’ me to aim for her neck, ’cause her boyfriend bought that necklace
with the trenches, precious, with the trenches
f*ck it, i scratched another n*gga woman up off my checklist
with the trenches, i’ve been livin’ reckless
i wish takeoff wasn’t there that night in houston, texas (with the trenches)
wish i could bring g.ca$$o back, that was my best friend
chordz, i need you to give me somethin’ big, i’m talkin’ ’bout dollar signs
skinny pants flow, tell the ho, “no, i don’t wanna f*ck”
she can suck*suck*suck it ’til she suck it dry
california n*gga with some european freaks
bad*ass b*tch from the middle e*e*e*east wanna l!ck on me
stick on me, even though i got security
even though she got a man, she know he ain’t as pure as me, seriously
soon as i get back, tradin’ in my urus for the puro’ keys
couple grey hairs up in my beard, that’s showin’ my maturity, yeah
ayy, shoutout to my symphony
9th ave, sp*ced out, we did that sh*t so differently and brilliantly
dolla $ign, iggy, and we birth yg
fades in the backyard, no talkin’, take flight instantly
ayy, nate 3d, boot up my n*gga, james koo
my n*gga, that’s d.r.u.g.$
she snortin’ that p out the d
she want me to put some of this coke in her b*tt, ugh
she russian, i beat up the p*ssy for ukraine
bought her a bag and i filled it with loose change
just like my exes, she told me that, “you changed,” yeah, yeah, yeah
dolla’d done rather be f*ckin’ it up
still screamin’, “free tc, melly, and thug”
f*ck the police, the da, and the judge
way out in saudi, i found me a plug
don’t wanna go out, she’d rather do drugs
can’t be my main if we met in the club, ooh
[outro: 2 eleven]
give me somethin’, b*tch, i’m talkin’ ’bout dollar signs
look it here, ho, i don’t wanna f*ck
here’s a buck, but a buck, buck, buck
i’m shootin’, game to light that
give me somethin’, b*tch, i’m talkin’ ’bout dollar signs
look it here, ho, i don’t wanna f*ck
here’s a buck, but a buck, buck, buck
i’m shootin’, game to light that
game to light that—
game to light that—
game to light that—
game to light that—
game to light that—
perfect

- ¥ kanye west ty dolla ign

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