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lirik lagu that go! – young stoner life, young thug & meek mill

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[intro]
(ayy, yung, boy, he got that talent)
(yo, nick papz, make it slap)

[verse 1: meek mill]
yeah, this 20 a pill, ran up a check
this patek baguetty, made twenty more mill’
drop on the opp, and then jump on the chopper and go to the hills
my youngins go call of duty with that chopper and he wanna k!ll
yeah, sh*tted on a n*gga, did it on purpose
i tell my other b*tch, “go with my other b*tch”
just to get my other b*tch a new birkin
pretty white toes, p*ssy was perfect
f*ck in the back in the bach with the curtains
f*ck from the back, and this b*tch started squirtin’
no, you didn’t get this sh*t on my persian
ooh, go get this b*tch a new purse, cool
i drive my car, how i’m feelin’? shе outta lane, she healin’
now shе on a plane, she chillin’ and she post a pic on the ‘gram, you feel it?
i know that n*gga wanna k!ll it ’cause she in a villa, going ham with tequila
made it my plan to get richer, i pull up, i jump out the lamb’, me and jigga, woah

[chorus: t*shyne & meek mill]
woah, this that go sh*t (yeah)
lil’ b*tch tryna act smart with me, but she don’t know sh*t (yeah)
7*eleven, i bought all the backwoods, sodas, and trojans (yeah)
it’s like five hundred b*tches at the crib, but we still lettin’ more in
woah, this that go sh*t (that go sh*t)
this that stunt on them n*ggas, might put two watches on both wrists (let’s go)
my trap boomin’, these n*ggas out here ain’t havin’ no motion (no motion)
back in the day we was hoppin’ in whips and ridin’ it stolen (skrrt)
[verse 2: t*shyne]
rolls*royce truck with the freak of the week
chasin’ the dreams, i’ma pass her to meek
n*gga, i’m a wolf, can’t hang with the sheep
water on my neck, wear my chain at the beach
pull up to your block with a motherf*ckin’ thotty
every n*gga with me down to go and catch a body
y’all n*ggas trappin’ out the hotel lobby
wipe a n*ggas nose like that motherf*cker snotty
i’m in the trap with a thick b*tch
yeah, i used to hustle, had to risk it
most you n*ggas fried like a fishstick
if he a snitch, can’t kick it
i’m with the gang and we deep
just like a dog, put a n*gga to sleep
bad lil’ b*tch try to send me on the sneak
no tlc, but a n*gga gotta creep
shoot it like jj (jj), spin a n*gga block like a beyblade
if i hit the block that’s a payday, hurricane ap, a bay bay
made it my plan to get richer, i pull up, i jump out the lamb’, me and thugger (slime)
k!llin’ the crib with no cutter, feelin’ like ving rhames, it’s guns and b*tter

[chorus: t*shyne & meek mill]
woah, this that go sh*t (yeah)
lil’ b*tch tryna act smart with me, but she don’t know sh*t (yeah)
7*eleven, i bought all the backwoods, sodas, and trojans (yeah)
it’s like five hundred b*tches at the crib, but we still lettin’ more in
woah, this that go sh*t (that go sh*t)
this that stunt on them n*ggas, might put two watches on both wrists (let’s go)
my trap boomin’, these n*ggas out here ain’t havin’ no motion (no motion)
back in the day we was hoppin’ in whips and ridin’ it stolen (skrrt)
[verse 3: young thug]
abracadabra, my b*tch way badder, my wrist out the motherf*ckin’ batter (slatt)
fish parquet, i smoke on her face, green diamonds, i f*cked up my bladder (yeah)
motherf*ck a trend, i been with my kids in the spot ’cause family matter (on god)
everything else you speakin’ about, might get your ass whooped like a paddle (slatt)
yeah, fishscale, no scale, weigh it up
i spent twenty mil’ on a crib, pay it up
in dubai but the b*tch from israel
call my phone, you fine as h*ll
in designer, but i will k!ll
you done sipped you a pharmacy, i can tell, yeah*yeah, yeah*yeah (yeah)
my b*tch, wrist clean, i flex, don’t bend, i am the king (the king)
hundred bands can clean up the scene (on god)
had your wife and you thought it was a dream
n*gga kicked through the door with the bling
i took off in a foreign machine (s*x)

[chorus: t*shyne & meek mill]
woah, this that go sh*t (yeah)
lil’ b*tch tryna act smart with me, but she don’t know sh*t (yeah)
7*eleven, i bought all the backwoods, sodas, and trojans (yeah)
it’s like five hundred b*tches at the crib, but we still lettin’ more in
woah, this that go sh*t (that go sh*t)
this that stunt on them n*ggas, might put two watches on both wrists (let’s go)
my trap boomin’, these n*ggas out here ain’t havin’ no motion (no motion)
back in the day we was hoppin’ in whips and ridin’ it stolen (skrrt)
[outro: t*shyne]
big racks, spendin’ big racks, that’s big business
pull up to the club with a pole on me, n*ggas thinkin’ i been fishin’
find me on a yacht full of bad*ass b*tches like, “ho, i’m really pimpin'”

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