Paroles de la chanson G.Y.L.O. par Goldlink

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Paroles de la chanson G.Y.L.O. par Goldlink

Get your freak on, (x3)
Yeah yeah yeah oh yeah yeah

What the fuck you a snitch, Fuck with me read the lick
Gorgeous body with a pretty ass face
I don't give a fuck bitch I'll be hittin' anyway
Get the bag, get the work, squirt the gat, no actin' up
Rich rapper nigga really want to start a problem
Pissed off a nigga wanna solve him
Pow pow roll nigga I'm ballin'
Bitch ass niggas be like you ain't ballin
Cause I'm a real nigga and we ain't never been to college
Real niggas stay in the ghetto we came from

Teachin' them little mother fuckers how we came up, stayed up
Gotta a little rich, gotta a place to get laid up
These wack niggas, trill niggas, on the rise
New bitch told me she spits on the cum now
Thats your nigga well your my bitch
Bust down on the couch bust that bitch
Fuck that fuck that, fuck that
Hallelujah to my niggas who made it all alone now
Aiming when we shootin' and we shootin' a few rounds
And we stay low, keep em goin' for a few rounds
Get our money up and never say a word
Smoke that shit and collect them birds

I peaked my cellular I see your chick she callin' me
I swerve in Benzs windows tinted, she wanna swallow me

If you a basic bitch, then girl don't even bother me
Bitch I'm grown Bitch I'm grown, 20 years hit the floor
Throw that ass for manager, throw that ass for my D.J
New bitches in my passenger, west side my neighborhood
Bitch I'm grown Bitch I'm grown, 20 years hit the floor
Bitch I'm grown Bitch I'm grown, 20 years hit the floor

Bitch niggas be lying, dying for nickle bags
And bitches still be callin' me ugly and say they wouldn't fuck me
Still got that flare I got that juice
When I first pull that trigger

Real magic sticker no fifty but bet that nine hit cha
I call my homie like "Homie" ("What Up?")
"I need a couple grams, so I can be the man solely" ("I gotcha")
See I ain't into pictures, I ain't into fucking hoes, (Not Really)
See I am just into women stripping, taking off their clothes
I suppose I'll speed it up, and still I beat it up
Pussy the tree for us I'll beat it up
D-wade three way act, Bill Withers you ain't on us
I clean shit up, bitch you on my bus, bitch you on my bus
You get this work, flip that work for dirt, you know whats's up

I peaked my cellular I see your chick she callin' me
I swerve in Benzs windows tinted, she wanna swallow me
If you a basic bitch, then girl don't even bother me
Bitch I'm grown Bitch I'm grown, 20 years hit the floor
Throw that ass for manager, throw that ass for my D.J
New bitches in my passenger, west side my neighborhood
Bitch I'm grown Bitch I'm grown, 20 years hit the floor
Bitch I'm grown Bitch I'm grown, 20 years hit the floor

"Oh my fucking god Royal, we did it, we fucking did it."

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