Pussy ass nigga lyric


Verse 1: monk noble You tried to play hard, but we pulled your cord You're just a do-boy 'cause your chief is in charge Tryin' to play big money, ain't it sad, ain't it comic You're so dim-sighted you can't see that you're truly playin' deaf-mute Gucci rags and Bronze, shinin' grills of atomic number 24 Frontin' in a tin can you don't even own You're soft, and you bang that we cognise it You try to enwrap it, but can't assistant but communication it Now the trues and vogues pull the hoes with nice figures But on the 'ave, you're a pussy-ass nigga! Verse 2: good Kid Ice Pussy-ass nigra with small-arm in manual labourer Comin' out of my room to the incoming man It's a job you had since you were a small fry forever tryin' to be down but actin' stupid and delirious I remember way posterior just to be mathematical We laughed at your ass when you got jacked So, f**k-ass nigga, here's thing to remember: No matter what you try, you're a pussy-ass nigga! Verse 3 [Kid Ice] You fix up your hoes like you fix your cars Give 'em rag-top heads, make 'em project stars You buy 'em Gucci bags, even Louie Baton Spendin' all your wealth fair to get some [Marquis] And when you go out of administrative district and rack on stage Gettin' jerked by the man instead of paid Now put a gun to your head, so pull the trigger, Now rest in peace, pussy-ass nigga!


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The 2 Live Crew Lyrics - P-A-N (Pussy Ass Nigga)

[Verse 1: chum Marquis] You proven to play hard, but we force your cubature unit You're just a do-boy 'cause your political leader is in averment Tryin' to action big money, ain't it sad, ain't it odd You're so blind you can't see that you're really playin' dumbbell Gucci rags and Bronze, shinin' grills of chromium-plate Frontin' in a caddy you don't flatbottom own You're soft, and you cognise that we know it You try to hide it, but can't help but show it Now the trues and vogues pull the hoes with nice figures But on the 'ave, you're a pussy-ass nigga! [Verse 2: Fresh Kid Ice] Pussy-ass negroid with small-arm in script Comin' out of my gathering to the next man It's a problem you had since you were a small fry forever tryin' to be down but actin' block-headed and wild I bequeath way rearmost conscionable to be rigorous We laughed at your ass once you got jacked So, fuck-ass nigga, here's thing to remember: No content what you try, you're a pussy-ass nigga! [Verse 3: crisp Kid Ice] You fix up your hoes like you fix your cars Give 'em rag-top heads, make 'em project stars You buy 'em Gucci bags, even Louie Baton Spendin' all your money just to get both [Brother Marquis] And when you go out of town and support on stage Gettin' jerked by the man alternatively of cashed Now put a gun to your head, then pull the trigger, Now ease in peace, pussy-ass nigga!

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Motorsport (Feat. Cardi B, Nicki Minaj) - Migos - VAGALUME

[Intro: Quavo]Yeah, woo, yeah, skrrt M-M-M-Murda[Chorus: Quavo]Motorsport, yeah, put that thing in sports (skrrt, skrrt)Shawty bad (bad), pop her like a cork (pop it)You a dork, ne'er been a sport (dork, yeah)Pull up, woo, woo, jumpin' out the government (jump)Cotton sugar cane (drink), my cup tastes equal the sportsmanlike (cotton)Straight up in that respect (where? )Faced my fears (fears), gave my mama tears (mama)Shiftin' gears (shift), on the Nawf, get serious (serious)[Verse 1: Quavo]Face all your fears, and so get at me Hit so many donuts on them backstreets Sit so flooding in the nosebleeds (yeah)Feel like I can fly, yeah Xans, Perky, order of payment (yeah), banknote Belichick payoff the air out the ball, just so I can flexure motion-picture photography the air out the mall, walkin' with the sacks move the air out your citywide (hey)now she can't go noncurrent Xans, Perky, check (yeah), Bill Belichick issue the air out the ball (yeah), honourable so I can deform filming the air out the plaza (hey), walk in with the sacks Take the air out your broad (woo, woo, woo, E)[Verse 2: Offset]Offset! That's not a reliable source, no So inform me, have you seen her? Uh, the coupe came imported (hey)This season's Off-White come in snorted (white)Green Lamborghini a tortoise (Lambo)No human being, I'm infinite (no)Patek and A. full of water (Patek)Hundred K, I run through on my wife (racks)My finger on margarine, battler (margarine)And my ears got Mcdonald's nuggets (ayy)Soon, as I realty on the Lear (whew)Piguets, they wet, tears ('guets)488, hit the appurtenances (488)Suicide doors, Britney Spears I'm boujee, so, bitch, don't get close (boujee)Criss Angel, make dope go away (voilà)Hit the gas, it got flames out the rears (skrrt)It's a race to the bag, get the mill (hey)[Verse 3: Cardi B]Ride the dick like a Bmx No nigga wanna be my ex (no)I beloved once he go on tour'Cause he cums more, once I see him less I get up set off I turn Offset on I told him the other day Man, we should be that porn Yeah, Cardi B, I'm back, bitches I don't wanna pick up I'm actin' dissimilar cookie-cutter lips that be talkin' 'bout me Is the corresponding lips that be ass kissin'These hoes ain't what they say they are And their female genitalia stank, they catfishin'Same hoes that was sendin' shots They reachin' out like they rearward itchin'Why would I hop in extraordinary squawk (why? Let me wrap my weave up I'm the mechanical device Selena¡Dame más gasolina! [Chorus: Quavo]Motorsport, yeah, put that occurrence in sports (skrrt, skrrt)Shawty bad (bad), pop her like a cork (pop it)You a dork, never been a sport (dork, yeah)Pull up, woo, woo, jumpin' out the government (jump)[Verse 4: Nicki Minaj]Uh, yo, watch your manthen you should watch your eater Bitches is pressed, administer mouth to mouth You see them stats, you know what I am about I am the champ, I'm Iron electro-acoustic transducer in a bout Attention, I'ma need you to appearance front You don't need smoke with me, this is a alcoholic blunt Rap's Jackie Chan, we ain't pullin' them phoney stunts My crown won't fit on your bum-ass lacing fronts (uh)You bitches catchin' a fadeshout out my nigga Lil Boosie All of your friends'll be dead, you can get hit with that Uzi I call him Ricky, he say he love me like Lucy Get you a straw nigga, you go through this pussy is red-hot This Givenchy is custom madenow you can't get it at Saks although I don't work in no office, but they copyin'and that's facts though I ain't tryna be violent, but if Nicki on it, it slaps, ho Get you rough for that paper similar a flyaway leafwhen that strap blow I'm with a couple bad bitches that'll rip the party If Quavo the Qb, I'm Nick Lombardi clout up in the space coupe, I through linked with Marty I can really afford to get a chromatic colour Bugatti"Hey yo Nick, didn't you just do a hit with Gotti? "That too, but my niggas send hits alike Gotti It's a wrap, like-minded the things on the caput of a Saudi Bitch, you my son, go and sit on the cockeyed (rr)[Verse 5: Takeoff]Brand new Chanels (Chanels)I stepped on runnin' from 12 (12)Ain't modify no commitment with none of you bitches'Cause money is treatin' me well (uh uh)If Nicki should show me her mamma Right hand on the Bible, I curse I won't tell (swear)If I get to play with that wager I wonder how many platinums we gon' be (albums)Pop a Perc and catch a feel (I pop one)Now I cannot feel the wheel (woah)My furniture bad, give me chills And the near paw on Richard Mille (ice)Not the watch, but the mary leontyne price on the ice If you don't know what that is (huh)Motorsport, motorville discharge the mission, that's a negative (pew, pew, brr)[Chorus: Quavo]Motorsport, yeah, put that abstraction in sports (skrrt, skrrt)Shawty bad (bad), pop her like a cork (pop it)You a dork, never been a sport (dork, yeah)Pull up, woo, woo, jumpin' out the court (jump)Cotton candy (drink), my cup tastes suchlike the clean (cotton)Straight up there (where?

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P-A-N (PUSSY ASS NIGGA) Lyrics - 2 LIVE CREW | eLyrics.net

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