Super Bowl Lyrics
Big rings 2 of those, super bowl Super Bowl, yeah
Lot of money lot of hoes yeah, lot of money lot of money woah
Big 40 n**** play wit me, feelin’ like I won the AFC,
Lamb truck to get from A to B, I’m still winnin’ what they hate to see
Yeah, yeah, got the 40 on the stage wit me,
Never lackin’ n**** wait and see, never lackin’ n**** play and see
Yeah, yeah, fuck her good she wanna stay wit me,
But I could never be faithful to a bitch I don’t live my life faithfully
I’m only faithful to the cash yeah, straight forward to the bag uh,
I don’t wait for it I don’t ask, nah/
I’m a take all of it, I take all it, I’m a take off I’m finna blast
Play my tape for them and they say nah the n***** spazzed, got spades pouring in a glass
All my bitches ratchet, they like drinkin’ out the bottle… the bottle… the bottle yeah
All my bitches ratchet, they like drinkin’ out the bottle…. The bottle.. Yeah.
Still on go, on mission, still keep a Draco wit beam and extension
Still gon air it if tension, told them I’m really like that but they listen/
Shoot it quick I ain’t missin’ scope on the top of it hit u from distance
I just won my division, championship rings on my fist glisten/
Big rings 2 of those, super bowl Super Bowl yeah,
Lot of money lot of Hoes yea, lot of money lot of money whoa/
Big 40 n**** play wit me, feelin’ like I won the NFC
Bulletproof truck to get from A to B, I’m really what you n***** claim to be/
Super bowl ring out the rim stack
Went cooper cup bouta cop me a big bag
Jugg Jaylen Ramsey on the corner on a bitch back
Girl I’m a P I don’t move pounds of nick sacks
Boy take a Tic Tac, talkin’ that shit get you shitbagged
Boy you a slave with a chain you got whiplash
Sippin’ slow soda but still drive the whip fast
Name is Jerome but I Bettis won’t hit back
Escalade bulletproof
Talkin’ dog in a van just like Scooby Doo
She got ass like a hippo up out the zoo
But she still gotta pay if she comin’ through
Yeah, lil’ mama a star and a comet too
She can fall out the sky and land in my coupe
Turning models to millions, it’s nothing new
Baby girl bought me Prada, I’m Prada you
Congratulations
Put her on stage, it’s a graduation
Bitch, I’m the dean of the college and I’m glad you made it
Nowadays rappers so fabricated
I got all the numbers in the books, I’m the yellow papers
Showtime the wrist shouts Javonte
I done got rich off the streets with the Conway
I’m from the home of the queen, that’s Beyoncé
But I done seen Destiny’s Child die from gunplay
(I got you mane)
(Let’s go)
Juice havin’ motion, don’t get mad
Just like groceries, your hoe get bagged
Young wild n*ggas wanna smoke shit bad
Any disrespect and the toe get tagged
Still ain’t retired, guess I ain’t finish yet
I got more rings than Brady, I get a check
BBL will deflate just like Belichek
No back n’ forth with a hoe, I don’t get in that
Still rolling loud, way before the concert
Trick on a bitch
I’d rather die first
Pockets fat like Chuck no Converse
White hoe, black hoe
Gotta keep it diverse
Pimpin’ ain’t dead, gotta try it first
Anything ratchet is my verse
She want me to put my meat on the grill
She gon’ eat the dick up like a bratwurst
Bitch you can pull your pants up
Who told you we was finna fuck I want top first
Hollywood address, all types of access
But I had to get it off the block first
Pretty bitch in my bed, paint the city red
Paint the same color on the opps’ shirt
If you ain’t finna gag on the tip
And make your eyes water up
This dick will not work
(It won’t work, you know what I’m saying)
(Shut the fuck up)