Still Wavy (Feat. Max B)
๐ต 2616 characters
โฑ๏ธ 3:25 duration
๐ ID: 25161774
๐ Lyrics
A grand slam, this a curve ball
I put the wicky wicky wax on my shirt boy
I could bring the city back on my shirt boy
I let you niggas piggy back on my shirt boy
I let the people hear the wave and they ain't even know
I let 'em use the studio and they ain't even blow
Even booked some night clubs to pay me for my flows
I put the love, they ain't even show
See I know that you was never mistreated in the past
I want the truth, beat it out ya ass
Damn, baby cheated in my stash
But it never really mattered, she needed it in cash
It was just a couple dollars, 3 to 4 hundred
See I ride my own waves, I need it, never want it
So what you say, I could plead it in the summer?
Nigga 3 Gs on my sneakers, keep 'em comin'
Cop the GG Porsche and drive it off the lot
I make a bitch detour, I'ma ride to the top
I hit the club, niggas hungry, let's hit the ah-ha
I want the top, solidify the spot
Only wavy ass beat you could find me on
I could make ya shit sound like an R&B song
I could make a 2Pac and Satur beat on
Come on, yeah, come on, yeah, come on
Young nigga greedy for the cash
I trade the Buick for the Benz and speed it right past
You know a nigga always good, where you seein' me at?
I never needed the attention, just needed these bags
I'm on the block movin' the O's, I needed these packs
That money turn niggas to hoes, I seen it in the past
And everything a nigga know I seen it on the ave
Hood fave, came from bands in the mattress
We trapped in the cold with no jacket
Took some losses and get past it
They talkin', they use me for captions
They wish I'd fall but we still live in action
My Harlem bitch stay tryna hold on the ratchet
Double R truck, countin' up all the bright bills
And they never get it so they don't know how the life feel
My diamonds is shinin' like my shit came with a light bill
Said she got it done but the shit feelin' type real
These niggas not one hundred, these niggas is type real
Tell all of them niggas get gone with the iffy shit
One false move, shoot a draw, he ain't missin' shit
Lotta green money, some dirty, what's the difference?
And I had my back to the wall but I'm gettin' it
Money was talkin', we the only ones listenin'
Brodie bring that pack to ya door, he deliverin'
Had to make it back through the storm in my Timberlands
Cop the GG Porsche and drive it off the lot
I make a bitch detour, I'ma ride to the top
I hit the club, niggas hungry, let's hit the ah-ha
I want the top, solidify the spot
Only wavy ass beat you could find me on
I could make ya shit sound like an R&B song
I could make a 2Pac and Satur beat on
Come on, yeah, come on, yeah, come on
I put the wicky wicky wax on my shirt boy
I could bring the city back on my shirt boy
I let you niggas piggy back on my shirt boy
I let the people hear the wave and they ain't even know
I let 'em use the studio and they ain't even blow
Even booked some night clubs to pay me for my flows
I put the love, they ain't even show
See I know that you was never mistreated in the past
I want the truth, beat it out ya ass
Damn, baby cheated in my stash
But it never really mattered, she needed it in cash
It was just a couple dollars, 3 to 4 hundred
See I ride my own waves, I need it, never want it
So what you say, I could plead it in the summer?
Nigga 3 Gs on my sneakers, keep 'em comin'
Cop the GG Porsche and drive it off the lot
I make a bitch detour, I'ma ride to the top
I hit the club, niggas hungry, let's hit the ah-ha
I want the top, solidify the spot
Only wavy ass beat you could find me on
I could make ya shit sound like an R&B song
I could make a 2Pac and Satur beat on
Come on, yeah, come on, yeah, come on
Young nigga greedy for the cash
I trade the Buick for the Benz and speed it right past
You know a nigga always good, where you seein' me at?
I never needed the attention, just needed these bags
I'm on the block movin' the O's, I needed these packs
That money turn niggas to hoes, I seen it in the past
And everything a nigga know I seen it on the ave
Hood fave, came from bands in the mattress
We trapped in the cold with no jacket
Took some losses and get past it
They talkin', they use me for captions
They wish I'd fall but we still live in action
My Harlem bitch stay tryna hold on the ratchet
Double R truck, countin' up all the bright bills
And they never get it so they don't know how the life feel
My diamonds is shinin' like my shit came with a light bill
Said she got it done but the shit feelin' type real
These niggas not one hundred, these niggas is type real
Tell all of them niggas get gone with the iffy shit
One false move, shoot a draw, he ain't missin' shit
Lotta green money, some dirty, what's the difference?
And I had my back to the wall but I'm gettin' it
Money was talkin', we the only ones listenin'
Brodie bring that pack to ya door, he deliverin'
Had to make it back through the storm in my Timberlands
Cop the GG Porsche and drive it off the lot
I make a bitch detour, I'ma ride to the top
I hit the club, niggas hungry, let's hit the ah-ha
I want the top, solidify the spot
Only wavy ass beat you could find me on
I could make ya shit sound like an R&B song
I could make a 2Pac and Satur beat on
Come on, yeah, come on, yeah, come on