Categories
Lyrics

BoBo Norco – Childish (feat. YG)

[Chorus: BoBo Norco]
DJ Ghost
Why you mad, cause I’m rich?
Or you mad cause I might be fuckin’ yo’ bitch? (Nigga)
It ain’t my fault that you love that bitch (Nigga)
It ain’t my fault that she love my dick (Nigga)
Why you trippin’ on me, that’s childish
Why you trippin’ on me, that’s childish
Why you trippin’ on me, that’s childish
Why you trippin’ on me, that’s childish

[Verse 1: BoBo Norco]
I cut class for the red Giuseppes
Tryna double up like the price is right
Then I whipped up the raw for the Mulsanne Bentley
Dropped a bootleg like a rodeo night
Your boy got the bitches in a bidding frenzy
They boyfriends act like Miami Vice
I got more knocks than a Jehovah’s witness
And I keep it more lit than the Church of Christ
First things first, imma mack regardless
This french rosé got me acting heartless
They throwin’ shade but I disregard it
I’m way too smooth to be catching charges
I picked her up in the Aston Martin
Dropped her off in a black Delorean
Spritz Clive Chris on my Mason Martin[?]
Cause your bitch smell just like the Asian market

[Chorus: BoBo Norco]
Why you mad, cause I’m rich?
Or you mad cause I might be fuckin’ yo’ bitch? (Nigga)
It ain’t my fault that you love that bitch (Nigga)
It ain’t my fault that she love my dick (Nigga)
Why you trippin’ on me, that’s childish
Why you trippin’ on me, that’s childish
Why you trippin’ on me, that’s childish (4hunnid)
Why you trippin’ on me, that’s childish

[Verse 2: YG]
I know you heard me on the radio (True)
I know you hear me everywhere you go (True)
Your girlfriend game me all yo’ attention
Aw damn, that’s some shit I shouldn’t mention (uh-oh)
I do shows, I got dough, I got freaks
I got a – sex tape that might leak
If I don’t – fuck with you we got beef
Thats why I move how I move in these streets
His bitch on my dick so he checked her
He don’t know we go back like Sean John and Mecca
He searchin’ through a phone he’s a presser
Found out his bitch a late night texter
He’s trippin’, cause she’s wildin’
But she grown, he act childish
All those trips she was taking a pirate [?]
She ain’t had no money, now she understand it

[Chorus: BoBo Norco]
Why you mad, cause I’m rich?
Or you mad cause I might be fuckin’ yo’ bitch? (Nigga)
It ain’t my fault that you love that bitch (Nigga)
It ain’t my fault that she love my dick (Nigga)
Why you trippin’ on me, that’s childish
Why you trippin’ on me, that’s childish
Why you trippin’ on me, that’s childish
Why you trippin’ on me, that’s childish

[Verse 3: BoBo Norco]
I’m dipped off lean, OG, and Bombay
Bitches get fucked like I’m Rico Suave
Blunts get wrapped like a RICO statute
I spit like Pac at the Paparazzi
Im a problem, my label refuse to drop me
The club like a coop and the pigeons flock me
Revenge of the hood, nerds tryna stop me
Middle finger pig [?], that’s enough to block me
Got a gold lucky charm like a Mayan
It look like I hit a lick on a pirate
Dope dick will leave a drip in your sinus
My video will leave your phone with a virus
One night stand, that’s the shit my clique’s on
My dick’s in her mouth and I tell her to get gone
Babysit the kids while a fuck the kid’s mom
In love cause I’m rich and she knows the dick’s bomb

[Chorus: BoBo Norco]
Why you mad, cause I’m rich?
Or you mad cause I might be fuckin’ yo’ bitch? (Nigga)
It ain’t my fault that you love that bitch (Nigga)
It ain’t my fault that she love my dick (Nigga)
Why you trippin’ on me, that’s childish
Why you trippin’ on me, that’s childish
Why you trippin’ on me, that’s childish
Why you trippin’ on me, that’s childish
Why you mad, cause I’m rich?
Or you mad cause I might be fuckin’ yo’ bitch? (Nigga)
It ain’t my fault that you love that bitch (Nigga)
It ain’t my fault that she love my dick (Nigga)
Why you trippin’ on me, that’s childish
Why you trippin’ on me, that’s childish
Why you trippin’ on me, that’s childish
Why you trippin’ on me, that’s childish
DJ Ghost

Categories
Lyrics

Futuristic – Futuristic or Die Lyrics

[Chorus (x7)]
It’s Futuristic or die, nigga

[Verse 1]
Futuristic or die, no lie
Nigga fuck with the gang or get hanged by your own tie
Skydive with no parachute
I dare a nigga or his crew to ever say he so fly
Did it by myself, know why?
Independent nigga with a really cold mind
Hit the goal line
When it’s showtime I show out, it’s sold out
Lyrics, everybody knows mine
Snow White don’t kiss hoes just bros
Niggas couldn’t see me even if they on they tiptoes
Crisp flow so cold that my lips froze
Never took shortcuts, niggas using CliffsNotes
Been broke for a minute should forget it
I’m living off of this music, I swear to God I’m a young Sean
WTF gang apparel had a Rocawear so I said I’m never sporting Sean John
Get it, got it, good
I ain’t in the hood
I’m riding around and I’m getting it with white friends
They see the kid, reckon that’s what I did
I swear that I get it in til the motherfucking night end
5’5 but I’m 9’6
Kids looking up to me because they see how I rhyme with it
I took my time perfected my only passion
No spazzing when I be rapping man I’m so out of my mind with it
I be going berzerk
Ya’ll suck, I bet your knees hurt
Like teen mom’s you’re so dumb
I’ve seen your ass with [?]
Could you get any weaker?
I kill shit and don’t try
It’s Futuristic or bungee jump with dental floss and die

[Chorus (x7)]
It’s Futuristic or die, nigga

[Verse 2]
It’s Futuristic or OD
I am not your homie, nigga
The one and only so please don’t act like you know me
I’m the truth you ain’t nothing but a phony nigga
You say you cold bro show me, nigga
Your chick wanna blow me, nigga
I’ve been rising from the bottom I got ‘em
I be the hottest on top you below me, nigga
Ya’ll cracking me up
I try not to say shit
All I do is let my damn talent show
You on stage with a whole bunch of lames cuffing the mic looking like a high school talent show
Let my talent grow
I’m the one taking these hits ain’t that a bitch
Fuck the nigga who made it, most underrated
No debating, I’m slaying your operation
You so famous and I ain’t even made it, nigga
I’m not hating or maybe I am
There’s some things I just don’t understand
Elementary lyrics that you be spitting I’m not really feeling
So please tell me how the fuck you got fans
I was in the band crowd surfing in the stands
You rapping about the liquor and moving a couple grams
But I’m rapping about my life on this mic
How I do so nice so I can take care of all of my fam, nigga
Futuristic that young dude that’s making moves without a thing to lose
Pay my dues and I bang a thing or two in this fucking booth
That’s all I do
Ask about it in the future that’s all I knew
See the benefits but I do it all for you
Or die be the line and all that’s true

[Chorus (x7)]
It’s Futuristic or die, nigga