TROLLZ (with Nicki Minaj)
6ix9ine
(Sad Pony)
Watch, mhm, Glock, mhm, cocked, mhm, got it, mhm
You need that? I got it, this cash, my pockets
The 'Cat one hundred, you need that? I got it
Need it, got it, cash, pockets
Bands on me, sticks on me
You need that? I got it, this cash, my pockets
The 'Cat one hundred, you need that?
Yeah, she like how I throw them racks, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Keep on throwin' that cash, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Keep on throwin' that ass, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Benz truck in the back, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
I know you don't like me, you wanna fight me
You don't want no problems at your party, don't invite me
I don't worry 'bout you niggas, please stop talking 'bout me
Always talking 'bout me 'cause you looking for the clouty
6ix-nina, the 9ine-nina
Riding in a two-seater with two ninas
Baby got that Aquafina, it's cocaina
Smoking on that OG reefer, no TMZ-a
Forgiatos on a Benz truck, make her friends fuck
Told her she could get Chanel if she let my friends fuck
Stars shining in the Rolls Royce, it got red guts
Wait, hold up, nah, I still don't give a fuck
Vroom, vroom, G5, vroom, vroom, we high
You the type of nigga that I never wanna be like
You a type of bitch that will never get a reply
Hi, hater, bye, hater, vroom
Yeah, she like how I throw them racks, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Keep on throwin' that cash, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Keep on throwin' that ass, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Benz truck in the back, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Dollar, dollar bill, come get her
Even your man know Nickis do it better
I know you don't like me, you wanna fight me
Always on my page, never double-tap like me
Baddies to my left and my right
Never chase a corny nigga, put that on my life
Just put it in his face, all this cake, he wanted a taste
We sippin' on that Ace, itsy-bitsy waist, pretty face
Yeah, eat it, Cookie Monster (Ooh)
He a slave to this pussy, call me master
Real wet, I said, "Slurp it like it's pasta"
They get nervous when it's Nicki on the roster (Rrr)
Somebody usher this nigga into a clinic
My flow's still sick, I ain't talkin' a pandemic
I write my own lyrics, a lot of these bitches gimmicks
They study Nicki style, now all of them wan' mimic
Talkin' 'bout snitches when it's snitches in your camp
Never stand alone, you always itchin' for a stamp
Me, I'm still money, wrists light up like a lamp
They gon' have to send they best fighter for the champ
Racks, I got 'em, Mary, I'm poppin'
They keep hatin', but still watchin'
Check the boards, I'm still toppin'
Bustdown or plain jane, I got options
It's a bunch of mini mes, I'm the one they mockin'
Showed you how to get a bag, now you goin' shoppin'
When I come out, all the sneak bitches start plottin' (Plottin')
When I come out, it's a sweep, bitches start moppin'
Yeah, she like how I throw them racks, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Keep on throwin' that cash, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Keep on throwin' that ass, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Benz truck in the back, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Watch, mhm, Glock, mhm, cocked, mhm, got it, mhm
If he like, I throw it fast, real fast, fast, fast
He singin' my old song, yellin', "Ass, ass, ass"
They be speedin', tryna beat me, then they crash, crash, crash
Still a hundred like the number on my dash, dash, dash
That real ass ain't keep your nigga home
compositores: Aaron Clarke, Andrew Green, Daniel Hernandez, Jahnei Clarke, Jeremiah Raisen, Onika Maraj
Você é fã de 6ix9ine? Gosta da letra da música?
Compartilhe com seus amigos.
Watch, mhm, Glock, mhm, cocked, mhm, got it, mhm
You need that? I got it, this cash, my pockets
The 'Cat one hundred, you need that? I got it
Need it, got it, cash, pockets
Bands on me, sticks on me
You need that? I got it, this cash, my pockets
The 'Cat one hundred, you need that?
Yeah, she like how I throw them racks, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Keep on throwin' that cash, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Keep on throwin' that ass, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Benz truck in the back, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
I know you don't like me, you wanna fight me
You don't want no problems at your party, don't invite me
I don't worry 'bout you niggas, please stop talking 'bout me
Always talking 'bout me 'cause you looking for the clouty
6ix-nina, the 9ine-nina
Riding in a two-seater with two ninas
Baby got that Aquafina, it's cocaina
Smoking on that OG reefer, no TMZ-a
Forgiatos on a Benz truck, make her friends fuck
Told her she could get Chanel if she let my friends fuck
Stars shining in the Rolls Royce, it got red guts
Wait, hold up, nah, I still don't give a fuck
Vroom, vroom, G5, vroom, vroom, we high
You the type of nigga that I never wanna be like
You a type of bitch that will never get a reply
Hi, hater, bye, hater, vroom
Yeah, she like how I throw them racks, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Keep on throwin' that cash, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Keep on throwin' that ass, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Benz truck in the back, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Dollar, dollar bill, come get her
Even your man know Nickis do it better
I know you don't like me, you wanna fight me
Always on my page, never double-tap like me
Baddies to my left and my right
Never chase a corny nigga, put that on my life
Just put it in his face, all this cake, he wanted a taste
We sippin' on that Ace, itsy-bitsy waist, pretty face
Yeah, eat it, Cookie Monster (Ooh)
He a slave to this pussy, call me master
Real wet, I said, "Slurp it like it's pasta"
They get nervous when it's Nicki on the roster (Rrr)
Somebody usher this nigga into a clinic
My flow's still sick, I ain't talkin' a pandemic
I write my own lyrics, a lot of these bitches gimmicks
They study Nicki style, now all of them wan' mimic
Talkin' 'bout snitches when it's snitches in your camp
Never stand alone, you always itchin' for a stamp
Me, I'm still money, wrists light up like a lamp
They gon' have to send they best fighter for the champ
Racks, I got 'em, Mary, I'm poppin'
They keep hatin', but still watchin'
Check the boards, I'm still toppin'
Bustdown or plain jane, I got options
It's a bunch of mini mes, I'm the one they mockin'
Showed you how to get a bag, now you goin' shoppin'
When I come out, all the sneak bitches start plottin' (Plottin')
When I come out, it's a sweep, bitches start moppin'
Yeah, she like how I throw them racks, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Keep on throwin' that cash, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Keep on throwin' that ass, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Benz truck in the back, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah, yeah
Watch, mhm, Glock, mhm, cocked, mhm, got it, mhm
If he like, I throw it fast, real fast, fast, fast
He singin' my old song, yellin', "Ass, ass, ass"
They be speedin', tryna beat me, then they crash, crash, crash
Still a hundred like the number on my dash, dash, dash
That real ass ain't keep your nigga home
compositores: Aaron Clarke, Andrew Green, Daniel Hernandez, Jahnei Clarke, Jeremiah Raisen, Onika Maraj
Você é fã de 6ix9ine? Gosta da letra da música?
Compartilhe com seus amigos.
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